#the yellow eyes may not be canon but they are dear to my heart so.

[viscericorde]

serpent of silver plumes

only just now drawing real fanart for something i have read and loved for 15 years but better late than never

[liminal-zone]

courage, dear heart

i wrote a thing! 

AO3 fic link: atomic blonde

fandom: Narnia/LOTR crossover | ship: Susan Pevensie/Éowyn, background Haladriel

rated: mature | tagged: crossover, canon compliant, pining, Gender Politics with Clive Staples and John Ronald Reuel, post The Horse and His Boy, bittersweet

Summary: It’s not the first time a power beyond understanding ripped Susan away from her home to fight in another world’s war. And in this strange country, she will find her courage.

Set as Frodo becomes the ringbearer, set after Susan returns from Tashbaan and the Battle of Anvard is won.

a/n: Written for @thenarniaficexchange 2023 for @syrena-of-the-lake. Is this fic just a string of references from all seven narnia books, at least five lotr books, various narnia and lotr films, a lotr tv show, Churchill’s “we shall fight on the beaches”, and Shakespeare? Maybe so.

Two canons in a blender, my favorite scene in this is when the Dark Lord Sauron comes to Queen Susan in her dreams to take her apart and finds something he didn’t expect. And my heart aches to answer an unanswered question in the fic about magicked memory loss and the Problem of Susan, perhaps in a sequel. 

Excerpt:

Her hands are dirty from drawing the circle, fingers burned from the blue fire.

The bright magic ring she wears is cold, very cold; cold as the bottom of the sea. And it sings of power, not of the flesh, but over flesh. The power of the Unseen World.

In her mouth is the language spoken before the dawn of time. Before the Deep Magic was written. Before the Sun and the Moon were made. “Call her up.”

*

It’s quite sudden – the searing sound in her ears and then a great pop – and she’s no longer riding alongside her sister in the wilds of Galma but in a strange, alien land.

She stills her horse, and is surprised to find it not the dumb Galman beast who was a pleasure to ride along the sands of the ocean, but a great stallion fit for a warrior of renown. The shabby islander saddle is now richly ornate, covered in symbols she does not recognize. The windswept sea of grass smells sweet; rich earth beneath and a warm yellow sun in the endless blue sky above. Massive forests and towering mountains in the distance, and far off to the south, clouds of smoke. No recognizable landmark of any kind.

This curious little girl from Finchley has experienced travel between worlds before, but she does not quite remember the first time. Something about a mother who loved her and a great stairwell and the numbing horror of nonstop destruction; all faded in memory and deemed unimportant, lost. She is now queen of a great country; taller than her brother, the High King, and a remarkable beauty sought by highborns across the known world. Her raven-colored hair and red lips, haunting the dreams of many. Her gracious kindness, a balm to her loving subjects once subjugated by winter and a witch.

More importantly, she still remains curious.

For she is Susan, by the gift of Aslan, by election, by prescription, and by conquest, Queen over Narnia under the High King Peter, the Lady of Cair Paravel and Protector of the River Rush, Blessed by the Radiant Southern Sun, Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion, Daughter of Eve, the Gentle.

And this strange country, unknown to her, is Middle Earth.

*

Her magical horn came with her, tied to her belt. There is no hesitation as she raises it to her lips. Father Christmas had said “–wherever you are–,” so she blows it, calling for help in this alien place.

The full velvety sound rings out across the grassy plains, ringing up through the nearby mountains and reaching forests unknown and reaching foreign ears in their towers of stone. (Perhaps even reaching the power that brought her here.)

A rider appears in the distance. Susan narrows her eyes, considering if this is friend or foe. She only has a dagger and her wits, which may be enough.

It is a warrior with a shield on his arm. He rides a white steed and golden horse hair flows out of his helmet. He shines bright like the famed white stag and Susan feels an intense urge to chase this rider at once, to put an arrow in his heart and drag him to the ground.

To demand wishes? Perhaps. The urge is unknowable.

But no: this is no white stag, nor a magical creature of any sort.

And Susan does not yet know that this is no man.

Susan called for help, and help has arrived in the form of Éowyn, the Lady of Rohan.

*

It is a cautious meeting and neither dismount.

The rider’s gaze is appraising, obviously noting Susan’s foreign dress. There’s the uncommon length of her raven hair, adorned with the lush island flowers of Galma. The dagger and white horn at her side, and the ease in which Susan is managing a stallion. The queenly posture; a regal confidence undoubted. (This is learned behavior. Pevensies can trace their lineage to poor fishermen in East Sussex and poorer soldiers from Normandy.)

Susan’s assessment is this: the young rider is a dangerous warrior, lithe and well-knit in frame, made all the more queer with his open courtesy to a stranger.

“What country, friend, is this?” Susan asks.

The rider tilts his head. “This is Rohan, my lady.” His voice ringing out clear.

And what shall I do in Rohan? Susan thinks, miserably.

“Are you in need some assistance, my lady?” the rider continues, a look of concern in his gray eyes. A pause. “I am Dernhelm, at your service.”

*

Dernhelm listens to her tale and “strange sorcery” is his response. He thinks a moment before: “Have you experience with witches?”

Susan gives a smile, but it is a bitter one. She knows more than some about witches.

After Susan explains, Dernhelm nods. “The way I see it is this: you have appeared here through magic, for what reason, I cannot say. And you have appeared in Rohan, for what reason, I cannot say. You are no servant of the Dark Lord, there is something true and honorable about you.” He stops there for a moment before a continuing in a most peculiar tone. “The wizards have no interest in queens; what is a woman to the affairs of air and earth? So, the Lady of the Golden Wood, she must be behind this and her reasons could have promise in them.”

“The Lady?” Susan echoes quietly. There are hags that called Her “the White Lady.”

“She is a great sorceress. An elf-witch of terrible power who dwells in Dwimordene.” Dernhelm looks grave. “It is said that all who look upon her shall fall under her spell and are never seen again.”

Susan shivers, thinking of the horror of Jadis’ castle. Of Tumnus’ look of terror, frozen in stone.

Dernhelm continues. “My brother believes she is a myth, and–” he pauses as if pained by a memory unspoken. “My king’s advisor says webs of deceit were ever woven in Dwimordene.” He raises his chin, and his eyes are shining bright. “But I believe differently. There is an old, old tale of this elf-witch helping my annointed forebear, the first of our kings. I choose to believe that tale. I choose to believe that in our time of need, the Lady came to our aid. High honor to protect the king and his men, and dread magic too. And perhaps, perhaps if she is behind this, she can be reasoned with and you can return home. Should you have the courage, you seek her out.”

“Then I shall go to find this Lady of the Golden Wood,” Susan says. “If you will take me there, sir. For I do not know the way.”

The man sucks in air and holds it a moment before: “For this journey, you have my sword, your grace.”

[thiefbird]

WIP Name Tag

Tagged by @trans-ruffboi !

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

I will sort these by fandom because. Wow I have a lot of WIPs

Aubreyad:

high priestess whump jack/stephen prompt

"jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you” jack/stephen prompt (may end up SLLT)

Diana/Stephen Came Back Wrong fic

Jack/Diana/Canning pwp

Stephen/Diana insane pillowtalk regarding The Naming Of Tortoises AKA Stephen/Diana Torture Machine

Diana/Stephen/Jack Threesome From Hell (name order is Important)

HDM AU

Mass Effect AU

Sedoretu AU

Soulmate AU but get weird with it

The Time That Passes By (SLLT)

Something Blue (SLLT)

Untitled Fic Regarding Sophie's Pregnancy With The Twins (SLLT)

Untitled Mauritius Fic (SLLT)

Untitled Desolation Island Fic (SLLT)

Untitled Fortune of War/Surgeon's Mate Fic (SLLT)

Untitled Ionian Missions/Treason's Harbour Fic (SLLT)

Untitled Far Side of the World Fic (SLLT)

Untitled Reverse of the Medal Fic (SLLT)

Untitled Letter of Marque Fic (SLLT)

My Heart and Eyes Have Erred AKA The Wives Find Out (SLLT)

Deh vieni non tardar (SLLT)

Untitled Thirteen Gun Salute fic AKA The Wives Have Unionised (SLLT)

Untitled Nutmeg Fic (SLLT) [note: apparently THIS is the one I didn't want to type out in full? Despite so many absurdly long titles]

Clarissa my beloved (SLLT)

HERE IT IS THE LESBIANS CAN FINALLY HAPPEN finally we beat the Beschdel test (SLLT)

Untitled Yellow Admiral Fic (SLLT)

Hornblower:

Hornblowergender Genderflu AKA Hornblower Torture Machine

The Great Kingston Debauch

Pellew Being Moody

“aren’t you tired?” “i’m fine. don’t worry about me.” stephen maturin/hornblower prompt

The Terror:

Time Loop But Evil/Canon-Compliant Time Loop/Crozier Torture Machine

Weird Fitzgender Character Study

Space AU

Temeraire:

TemSummer Exchange(I can't give info about this one sadly ;-;)

laurence sick in australia laurence/tharkay/granby prompt

"'i feel like shit.' 'you look like it, too.' *they bump shoulders*" laurence/granby prompt

"this is not something that can be fixed by simply wishing it away" laurence/tharkay prompt

"you know, if you’re trying to make me feel guilty, you’ve succeeded" laurence/granby prompt

"and the job gets done, but you worry some, i know" jane/laurence prompt

shibari tharkay/laurence prompt

Holy Mother Of Crossover Fic Aubreyad+Hornblower+Temeraire

Dragon Age:

Darkspawn!Justice/Nathaniel Howe

"I could make you feel better" nanders prompt

Kinloch-era Kanders <3 prompt

"I cannot change my feelings for you, believe me I fucking tried" fenders prompt

Nanders+Justanders+Fenders+Nate/Justice Mother Of All Complicated Soulmate AUs

JustSolAnders Inky!Anders AU

Sanctuary

Tagging @glowing-blue-feathermage @aurpiment @sere-allwehaveisnow @marthielsmain @kerfanna and YOU if you would like to do it <3 please tag me, my dears, if you decide to play, so I see and can send you asks!

[levis-coffeecup]

chapter 26| Promise

WC-4.0k

Summary

The underground is filthy and dark. Dim lights, dull alleys, and desperate hearts. A place Levi knows as well as the back of his hand, and a place he would do anything to get out of.

Chapters of life roll by and with the turn of a page, things drastically change. In front of him is the opportunity to live on the surface. And the flimsy bridge that he has to cross. From an uncivil criminal to a disciplined soldier.

But life on the surface seems tougher amidst all the mockery, civilities, and the gaping hole left in his heart, after the demise of his dear friends Isabel and Farlan.

Content/Warnings

canon- compliant, canon-typical violence, spoilers for No Regrets OVA, descriptions of PTSD, grief, depression, heavy angst and themes, strong language, self-hate, physical assault.

Author’s Note

Hiiii,

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in the fic. Had this chapter in mind, ever since I was coming up with the idea of writing this fic.

Hope you enjoy it, as much as I enjoyed writing it! Song for this chapter is Aaj Jaane Ki Zidd Na Karo by Arijit Singh.

Chapters

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Masterlist | Playlist | Other Works

MAY 850

The harsh summer sun is waning, and the clouds part to reveal a gradient of pink and purple in the sky. The incoherent chatter of passers plays like white noise, and Levi walks through the narrow lanes of Trost. 

He finds the evening sky is calming. 

He was here, just a few days ago too. Busy running away from Kenny and protecting Eren from the clutches of the royal family.

But things are different today. The stress on his mind has reduced immeasurably. There is a slight bounce in his gait, and he almost smiles, as he sees two kids run past him, with a kite in their hands.

Things have started falling back into normalcy. From the capture of the Female Titan to the false breach of Rose. Humanity is slowly healing.

And to Levi, the humdrum of a mundane life has always felt comforting .

Mae’s house appears at a distance. It doesn’t look the same as before, but the repairs made by the government are functional. Mae seems to be comfortable.

And Levi smiles as he sees a candle, flickering through the window. She’s home.

He picks up his pace, the beat of his heart picking up as well.

The yellow walls that he once looked at with distaste, have now found a place in his heart. And a simple slab of wood has never seemed so welcoming. It feels like he hasn’t seen her in forever.  

His knocks on her door almost seem urgent. And he taps his foot to somehow contain his excitement.

Then he hears the sound of the latch being opened. And he’s just about to make a comment about her taking a crap for too long. But her voice reaches him first, taut from all the crying. 

When the door finally opens, Levi is taken aback by the sight of her..

Her hair is disheveled, her cheeks are tear stained. And her eyes sing of the tragedies and woes of all mortal beings.

The picture is hauntingly similar to the time when her parents died. 

“Levi.” her voice frays. The sound tugs all his heartstrings, and he steps inside, closing the door behind him.

Her composure breaks the moment she meets the gray in his eyes. And her hands tremble as they cradle his face. Staunch disbelief makes her eyes go wide, and a single tear falls from her waterlines. As if millions haven’t fallen before already. “I-I thought you were dead,” she croaks.

The pain in her eyes is just a glimpse of what she’ll go through, the day he actually ends up dying. And Levi gulps at the sight. The possibility of that happening is higher than he’d like to tell her. 

It’s a happy day though. He should think of happier thoughts.

“Come here,” he opens his arms wide, welcoming her in a hug. And she jumps into his arms desperate to feel the pulse inside his chest.

Her shoulders quake with an intensity that makes Levi queasy. Her restlessness gets the best of her. And her grip around him doesn’t loosen, even when he carries her to the couch, and sits on it.  “Where were you?” she cries. “ So m-many people were t-telling me t-that you were k-kiled by the government.”

He rove his hand over her head. “ I’m alright… I’m right here, aren’t I?” And the pads of his finger are gentle as they wipe the tears slipping down her face. “I’m going to be safe now… Historia is the new Queen.”

He speaks with logic, but he does not make sense to her. 

Her hands still tremble against his skin. Scared that he will disappear into thin air.

She looks like she hasn’t slept for days. And his heart breaks, unable to comprehend the turmoil she’s been through this past week, while he was busy with his undercover mission.

In an attempt to distract her, he bends and takes out the knife he keeps strapped to his ankles. “Here..” he holds it out to her. “Sasha stitched this wound for me,… but it must have healed by now… mind, taking the stitches off?”

“Wound?” She panics. It’s something that completely slipped past her mind. “ Oh my god! I didn’t consider that, and I just jumped on you.” Her hands start frantically roving over his frame. “Are you hurt anywhere, did you-”

“Sweetheart, “ a rare laugh slips past his lips, and he cuts her off by putting his finger on her lips. “Wouldn’t I walk differently if I had an injury that serious?”  

He takes off his shirt and turns his right arm towards her.  “See, one wound is, that’s all… not a scratch anywhere else.”

And Mae gulps, as she takes the knife in his hands. 

No matter what she thinks of, the facts, the wins, the strength of Levi Ackerman, the tears don’t stop. They rage like the walls of a dam, left abused and broken. And every part of her still trembles. Her fear still holds her in a vice grip.

It all started when she heard a few distant gunshots. Then the fight between Levi and the Military Police became the talk of the town. People saw him dash through the roads, with the police hot on his tail. Some saw him surrounded by armed men in a Tavern as well.

In the next few hours, the government was arresting the  Survey Corps, Erwin was going to be prosecuted, and Levi was nowhere to be found.

And all Mae heard all day long were rumors about his disappearance, and the thoughts of his dead corpse. She couldn’t sleep, she couldn’t eat. Completely consumed by the anxiety of losing him.

Next thing she knew, there were wanted posters with a drawing of Levi on every wall. He had a huge bounty on his head, and she even heard people conspire ways they would find him.

As it is she faced the fear of losing him with every mission he went on. But now he wasn't even safe inside the walls? The one place she thought he'd be safe…

Days came and went.

The long line of patients at her clinic somehow kept her busy during the day.

But the nights were the same. With her tossing and turning in bed, helpless.  She physically felt her heart rip to pieces, at the thought of never seeing Levi again.

The knife in her hand quivers as she brings it closer to the bandage wrapped around his upper arms. She hasn’t lost him yet, the thought leaves a bittersweet aftertaste.

Then Levi cups both of her cheeks, and looks into her eyes.

The knife is so close to his skin. Unsheathed and sharp. And yet he stills for minutes. And yet he closes his eyes as he presses his forehead to hers.

It's a different kind of intimacy, not one he even registers now. All his are instincts pushed to the side

And as he keeps her in his palms, foreheads pressed and eyes closed, his love conquers. And he wastes no time to claim her, pressing his lips onto hers.

She melts with every little kiss. And she finds herself, settling into his warmth . Losing herself in the feeling of his lips against hers. It's so strong, that it pulls her out of her fears, and tethers her back to the world.

He angles her face, as he pulls her closer. And she finds home, in the erratic rhythm of his heart.

When they part, all their worries scurry away, even if it’s just for a fleeting moment.  And Levi puts his head on Mae’s lap. Tired from all the happenings of the week.

So much has happened, and much more is bound to happen. The mystery of the titans is only unfolding. And so far it has been taxing. His eyelids start drooping shut, and his breath evens out.

When he looks up he sees Mae. And she smiles, still teary-eyed. Holding him with such tenderness, it makes him feel delicate.

He lets the warmth of her eyes wash over him.

“Mae,” he reaches an arm up to touch her face.

And Mae nods, pushing away the hair that falls on his forehead.

“Kenny… “ he gulps. “Keny didn’t leave me because I wasn’t good enough…”

And she tucks a strand of hair behind his earlobe “I always told you, you were perfect, didn’t I?”

A rare smile traces on his lips. And even though his cynical mind wants to run off with more questions , he lets that part of him rest. The last thing he remembers before sleep comes to him is Mae telling him she’ll make a mask for his hair in the evening.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

AUG 850

The night treats Mae cruelly. 

It's cold, heavy, and dark. The lights are dimmed out, and people sleep peacefully in the illusionary safety of these walls. Forgetting that there is still a war to be fought, an enemy to be conquered.

Days have passed by in a flash. 

And restlessness has conquered her thoughts. Peace has eluded her. And she can only try to comfort herself, as she looks at the tall walls that surround Trost.

Levi goes past them tomorrow. Tomorrow he goes to conquer Shinghansina again.

And yet he isn’t beside her.

She decides to not read into it. She knows how he can be sometimes. And she knows how stressful the nights before a mission are. Especially for a mission as tough and risky as this one.

The Survey Corps is going to go all out.

The wind blows in her face. And her lips tremble as she looks over the sleeping city. The uncertainty of tomorrow’s mission has captured her entire heart. And its claws dig in. Slicing gashes across her skin, and making her heart bleed. 

She feels dizzy, and a single tear slips past.

His memory haunts, night and day. She wishes he was here, spending a few moments with her before he puts his life on the line again. 

But her job is to make his life easier, not to burden him with her desires. And she can only hope that he finds the time to come meet her, before he leaves for the mission tomorrow.

She can only hope she’s being good to him.

And Levi sits in the dark corner of a desolate shop. With a bottle of whisky by his side, and his hands touching the filthy dust on the floor. 

Outside, the sound of Eren, Mikasa and Armin fills the quietness. They chatter about all that is lost and all that they still look forward to.

In them he sees Isabel and Farlan. After all they too were naive, young kids who were forced to grow up a little too young. 

Armin concludes that he wants to see the sea. The enthusiasm woven in his voice is infectious.

And Levi gulps. Isabel wanted to see the sky too.

And yet he is the only one who gets to see the sky everyday. It’s unfair, something he doesn’t deserve after all the times he’s fucked up.

Tomorrow is a big day though. He hopes he can make them proud. And he hopes he can avenge all his fallen comrades.

The thought makes him feel content yet also nervous. They’ve come a long way. And yet they stand at a place where everything is uncertain. 

No one knows how many shifting titans wait for them out on the battle ground. No one knows the type of terror might be hauled onto them. And for the first time, Levi is failing to understand Erwin’s motives as well.

The thought itself makes him furious. And he plops open the cork of the bottle, and gulps down its contents. 

The alcohol burns his throat and bleeds into his bloodstream. Ushering him to the brink of a collapse, that he is dangerously close to.

Every time he shuts his eyes close, his heart begins to race. Wrecked by the weight of the world and the cynicism in his head.

He brings the bottle to his lips again. Gobbling the liquid until the bottle is half way done. It’s a good distraction.

A good distraction from the people that will inevitably die tomorrow. A good distraction from Erwin, who despite his pitiful condition is hellbent on going to the mission

Mikasa, Eren and Armin get up, and Levi doesn’t try to hide in the shadows. He’s a little too absorbed in his grief to even think of that. Fortunately for him, they don’t notice either.

He drinks, he drinks, he drinks up his misery. It's one of those days, where every loss he has ever endured comes crashing towards him.

His eyes ache, tired. His brain throbs, numb. And his entire body hurts, but it doesn’t stop trembling from restlessness. He’s exhausted, but sleep can’t grace him. He’s hungry, but the stress of the mission also takes his appetite away.

The night gets colder, and he shivers, sticking closer to the musty wall he rests his back on.

He fears he’s a little too close to self destruction. Shrouded by darkness, surrounded by doubts. A little too far away from everything and everyone.

And with his tattered soul, he carries himself to the only home he’s ever known.

━━━━━━━

It's 1 in the morning when Mae’s door rattles open. And she can’t help the tears that spring up in her eyes as she takes in Levi’s form. 

Levi’s eyes give away. Distressed underneath the expectations he has for himself, and tormented by the uncertainty that comes along with the mission.

His breathing is heavy and she rushes closer to him. Taking the empty bottle of whisky from his hands and hauling him inside. “Where have you been all this while,” she reprimands. 

Not an answer. It's often like this with Levi. He still hesitates to open up, to show where it hurts.

To him it's still a mere weakness.

Little does he know, she loves him the most when he’s weak and vulnerable, yet strong in his resolve and ambition. So beautifully human.

She makes him sit on the couch and snakes an arm around his waist, to hold him still. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“Tch,” he scoffs and pushes her away. “Of course I’m alright, I know my limits with alcohol, I’m not going to drink when there's a mission 12 hours from now.” His tone is confident, but his eyes remain vacant.

His body is here, physically present. But he is somewhere else, a distant place where she can’t reach no matter how hard she tries. And she feels lost in all the darkness he resides in.

“I’ll run you a warm bath to clean you up, or would you like some tea.” She pleads, hoping something helps. The last thing she wants is for him to go on the mission in such a miserable state.

But he doesn’t answer again. He just sits, quietly fluming, and overwhelmed as hell.

And Mae rushes to bring a wet washcloth, to wipe the dirt gathered on his knuckles. 

The cooling sensation of the cloth brings him back to this earth. And he watches as she takes his hand in hers, and gently rubs the filth away.

His eyes drop to her lips, and he blinks. The strings of his heart tug at him, feeble when she’s with him.

Her love alone has the strength to make him surrender. And he leans in, pressing a gentle peck on her lips. It’s a sweet distraction.

A couple moments pass by in stifling silence. And as she gets up to put the cloth away, his hand latches to her wrist.

“Sit…here.” There’s an underlying agony in his voice, that makes her break a bit. 

He can never see how sad he looks from her perspective.

And whilst Levi struggles with the criticality of tomorrow’s mission, Mae struggles with something too.

The possibility of losing him.

Turmoil has weighed heavily over her the past few days. From one thing to another, she’s hardly gotten any rest. And now Levi leaves again tomorrow. It feels like sadness looms over them like a heavy cloud ready to rain.

“Come let's sleep, honey… “ She sits next to him again. “You have a mission tomorrow.” Her voice almost frays at the cruelty of the moment. The condition he’s in breaks her to pieces.

“No I don’t want to sleep,” his answer is immediate. Maybe he’s having it a little too hard with his nightmares. “You go and sleep. I’ll just stay here for a while.”

“I slept already… in the afternoon today,” she lies. Deciding that Levi needs her more, than she needs her sleep. “How about we put a mattress on the terrace, and watch the stars?” 

And Levi follows, always working well with orders. 

He helps her take the mattress up the stairs. 

The night has turned colder and the cold bites at his hands. He shivers as he sits unusually stiff.

Soon Mae brings a set of blankets and pillows, to keep the both of them warm. And they lay down, watching the stars twinkle above.

The stars always made Levi feel better, a constant reminder of where he had begun and how far he has come. And Mae hopes that today they remind him of how proud she is of him.

She holds his hand first, and then she turns towards him. Shifting close.

And Levi gives in, defeated and exhausted. She takes her time to gently kiss the creases between his brows. Until they fade

Their feet mingle under the warm blanket. And they snuggle up, arms wrapped around each other.

Moments trickle by in silence and the effect of the alcohol fades away. The only thing that remains now is the warmth of her arms and the steadiness of her breath.

And Mae is a reminder that whilst there isn’t much positivity in this cruel cold world, there is always warmth.

He takes a deep breath. The sound of which is loud in the silence.

“My mom…” He exhales heavily. “I don’t remember much of her, but she would say that the stars are nothing but the souls of all the people that have left the world. Scattered across the darkness, so that when we look up at the sky and remember their stories.”

And Mae frowns the longer she looks at him. “A lot of people are going to die tomorrow, aren’t they?” She speaks with sadness.

“Death is the only thing that’s certain,” he jokes.

And Mae doesn’t understand whether Levi needs to be comforted, or to be heard.

“You’ll do your best… I’m sure of it. And that’s all you can do Levi, that’s all that’s in your control.”

His eyes flit from the stars to her. And he feels a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’re so good to me.” His tone softens and he pulls her closer. And she doesn’t know whether it's the alcohol acting up, because Levi hardly gets drunk. Or if it's all the stress that's taking a toll on him.

A beat of silence passes by. And as she looks into the soft gray of his eyes, she realizes how quickly time is passing by. Like dust flying in a sandstorm.

Slowly she places her hand on the crown of his head. And her lips find the arch of his cheekbone. 

She can feel the war on his skin. In his calluses and his scars, and the way his hardened eyes only soften for the bits when he’s with her.

Levi is his battle and half of that is hers.

She needs to be brave enough to let him go.

“Say Levi,” her voice lingers, uncertain with doubt. She questions whether the troubles on her mind should be picked apart now out of all times. 

But time waits for no one

And she might never see the gray in his eyes turn blue in the sunlight. She might not see the new scars on his body.  He might die tomorrow, erased from her life. Becoming a memory so distant, that she can only remember, never experience. 

And if Levi dies tomorrow then the words in her mind will never get the chance to settle in his heart. “If I ask you for something, will you do it for me?” 

He parts away from her, taking in the destruction on her face.

A thickness settles in his throat, and he frowns the longer he looks at her.

Because he knows he can’t give her anything other than his heart. 

Hell, he can’t even assure her that he’ll come back alive. Because this mission will be dangerous, and if his death becomes important for victory, then he’ll have to sacrifice himself for the greater good.

“That depends on what you ask of me.” His voice comes out wispy. He feels like such a failure. These might as well be the few last moments he spends with her, and yet he has nothing but his own misery to share with her.

“If you die -” her lips shudder, pressing into a thin line. Words fail her, not able to slip out of her mouth without a sob.

“If you die… tomorrow, or whenever.” Tears fill her lash line, and she tries to blink them away.

She needs to be strong. She needs to be strong enough to convince him

“If you die tomorrow…, d-do you promise me that you’ll d-die happy? Will you think of how far you've come, instead of all your failures and regrets?” Her eyes sparkle, in the sadness they are trying to cage, but there is also so much love endowed in her gaze.

Because Levi stumbled into life, and then became her life. 

Her biggest fear will always be losing him. But Levi doesn’t need to know that. Not for his sanity at least.

And so she pulls out the sweetest, fakest smile. Betraying the tears lingering in her eyes. “ Most of all, I want you to know that I’ll be fine,” her voice cracks. 

“So…” Her fingertips shudder as they trace his jawline. “I don’t want you to feel guilty about leaving me behind if you end up dying.”

And Levi pulls her close. Letting her cry into his arms. After all, who is she trying to fool? 

And Mae breaks in an instant. He can feel the violent shudder of her shoulders and the wet patches that her tears leave on his shirt.

His fingertips card through her hair, and his other hand slips underneath her top. He focuses on the softness of her skin, and her scent. And the bitterness of life hits him hard, as he hears her trying to suppress her sobs.

In the 4 years that they’ve been together, he’s not given her much. Not a comfortable life, not sweet flirty compliments or a million gifts. Not even a reason to stay honestly.

And only they’ve known what an abnormal relationship it has been. With meeting her once every three months, to letters that have been delivered to the wrong person. He has missed her birthdays. He has responded to her letters very late. And he’s always walked so close to death.

She’s been through hell just to be with him. And even now, she tells him to not worry about leaving her behind, instead of begging him not to die.

He feels so loved and privileged.

“You’re so strong.” he whispers into her hair. It’s his way of praising her selflessness.

“Really?” she manages to mutter despite her hushed cries. And he finds it so sad that she still doesn’t see herself the way he sees her.

“Mhmm,” he hums. “Humanity’s Strongest is telling you that. Are you doubting him?”

“To me he’s always been Humanity’s Cutest.”

“Tch,” He clicks his tongue. Somehow the nickname still annoys him.

The next day brings hell for both of them. And with gentleness, Levi picks Mae’s head up and forces her to look at him.

“Mae…” The conflict in his voice is palpable, but there’s also a strong resolution hidden underneath. “I can only make the promise you’re asking for, if you make a promise to me as well.”

“What promise?” Her brows furrow, and she looks up at him through her clumpy lashes.

And his lips morph into a bittersweet smile, as he holds her in his eyes a moment longer. “If I die tomorrow, or in the future…, then find another-”

“WHAT! NOOO.” Mae interjects, knowing where he’s headed with this.

“Find another man,” he mutters heavily, as he pushes her hair behind her ear and presses a kiss on her upper lip. ”A man who can make you happy and give you stability and security. Find someone who can give you a normal life… a family.”

“Levi noooo,” she whines, and as she looks up at him, fresh tears crowd her waterlines.

The sound of her sobs fills the emptiness of the night. She can’t love anyone the way she loves Levi. It has captured her entire being, and the man who comes into her life next, will be only left with the remnants that Levi leaves of her.

She shifts to her side, turning her back towards him. Maybe she’s childish, but Levi is being unreasonable too. How dare he ask her to find someone else, when he knows how much she loves him?

“I am yours and I only want to be yours,”she speaks with sternness. And Levi places her hand on the dip of her waist, but she picks it up and pushes it away.

“Mae..” his voice teeters at the edge of a plea. “I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

“You don’t have to give me anything Levi,” she turns towards him, almost furious. “I make my own money. All I want is your heart and your companionship… I knew the risks I took when I decided to be with you… And I'd rather be alone, than to find someone else.” she concludes.

And Levi has been alone too. But Mae has taught him how wonderful companionship can be. 

He doesn’t want her to be lonely.

"Seeing me with another man, will that make you happy?" she taunts.

"Seeing you happy will make me happy…" he whispers with tenderness, as his fingertips wipe her tears away.

"If I tell you to find another girl after I die, would you do it?" 

"No,” he answers, without pondering for even a millisecond.

"Then why should I?" She retorts.

"Because this relationship was something I never expected in my life. I am grateful to have experienced having one, and that is enough for me, but can you confidently tell me that you have never dreamed of getting married? Of having a family?"

His questions are met with silence. Instead Mae glares at him, too slack jawed to find her reasonings. And resolve slips so easily from her features, as she thinks about what she wants for once. 

She’s always dreamt of getting married and starting a family. 

The bitter truth hits home, and she curls into herself.

“But Levi…” her voice comes out feeble. “ I want all of those things with you… I want to live the rest of my life as your lover… and your lover only.”

A bittersweet smile finds Levi’s lips. He hopes she can experience the love that she’s made him feel. He hopes  she finds someone who pampers her and gives her all his time in the world. And unfortunately that person can never be him. 

"You're always going to be my only lover, the only woman I have ever laid my eyes on," he coos as he places a kiss on the crook of her neck. "You-you'll always be m--my girl," His arms around her tighten, and her cries get louder.

Destiny has made their love too strong, yet the world so cruel.

"Sweetheart," his voice quivers. He’d rather have a bullet in his stomach than to hear the painful sound of her sobs. "Please."

He feels like he’s only seen her cry these past few months.

And so kisses her, relentlessly, wholly.

It might as well be the last time he gets to do it.

Morning comes closer, and the stars start to fade.

And when they part, they rest their foreheads against each other. Stealing a moment’s heaven before hell falls on the earth again.

"If I keep my promise, will you keep yours?. Even if it seems incredibly hard.” She speaks against his skin.

"I will." he affirms with unwavering confidence. Their pinkies intertwine.

The world falls into the brink of dawn, slowly waking to the day that’s in front of them. But Levi and Mae remain still, not ready to move on yet. With their eyes shut and their foreheads pressed.

"When I die, look up to the stars for me… I'll be watching after you.” Levi breaks the silence. His voice is wispy, but awfully sweet.

"Will you be smiling at me?" Mae questions back with utmost innocence.

And he smiles in response, "only if you smile at me first."

The sunlight catches her features. And her eyes sparkle, both with pain and love.

His heart pounds, and he takes his sweet time, holding her in his gaze. If he were to die now, it would be a sweet death.

I don't have much to say hehe. But I would love to know what you thought about the chapter! I'm open to feedback as well!

See you next Saturday!

Taglist: @keijikunn @evas-leslas @leviackermanmyhero245 (message me if you want to be added)

[mirkwoodshewolf]

I am the Celestial of Death Chap. 2; Bilbo Baggins’ 111th birthday

*Author’s note*

Okay so these author notes may be cut short cause I want you all to enjoy the binge reading I’ve got for you all for this sequel. Again this is the opening to FOTR with Bilbo’s 111th birthday so nothing to really give warning about, next couple of chapters there may be some warning beyond the canon violence that’s in here (nothing too graphic just maybe some horror/PTSD elements but I’m getting ahead of myself).

For now enjoy the best birthday chapter in the world!

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@byersboys​

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Fireworks exploded in the night sky, music played nice and loud, and everywhere Hobbits of every age were dancing or sitting down having a bit of cake and a mug of ale, or sitting in groups smoking their pipes.

I was maneuvering my way through the crowd by dancing alongside them when I noticed Frodo push Sam into the dancing circle, right into the arms of the hobbit lass by the name of Rosie Cotton.  Dear Sam had always had a fancy for Rosie ever since he was but a young Hobbit lad.  I came over by Frodo and said to him.

“Guess he tried to chicken out again?”

“You know Sam. But Rosie eagerly accepted his dance and doesn’t seem to let him go as a dance partner.”

“One of these days he’ll work up the courage. But he’s lucky to have a matchmaker like you.” I said nudging his shoulder.  He laughed softly as I went to reach for my bracelet only to remember I didn’t have it anymore.  Even after all these years I sometimes forget that I gave it back to Haldir, gods the look of heartbreak and rage in his eyes at the time.

“Hela? Are you alright?” I turned to see Frodo looking at me concerningly, his blue eyes emphasizing his worry for me.

“I’m fine Frodo. Tis nothing you need worry about. Come on, care to dance with a Celestial?”

“It would be my pleasure.” He said with a pop off his seat and graciously bowed before me.  I stood up and curtsied and took Frodo’s hands and we skipped together into the dancing circle.  

After a little while, Frodo and I parted ways so that he could find Bilbo and I could go find the little Hobbits who I knew were going to want to hear my stories of adventures and thrills after Bilbo’s story time.  He always did like telling the story of our encounter with the trolls (even I’ll admit out of that entire quest, it is probably the most entertaining because those trolls truly were idiotic and slow in the head).

A few of the children came over to me demanding to hear some of my stories.

“Hela tell us a story!”

“Tell us about your people and your powers!”

“No, no tell us about how you slayed down dragons and goblins!” I smiled at them before turning to the light of the moon and smiled.

“How about this, ever hear the tale of the Celestial that sees through the moon?” I asked them.  The children all shook their heads no.  “Then sit down my little Hobbits and Lady Hela will tell you the story.”

I sat down on the grass alongside them as they all gathered around me.  A couple of young hobbits sitting on either side of me as they all waited patiently for me to tell the story.

“Long, long, long ago. There was a Celestial of Starlight. He was brave, strong, loyal and a fearsome warrior. But he also had a kind heart and a friendly smile. Those that did wrong in the world faced his mighty Starlight wrath, but to the innocent, he always had a gentle hand.” I poked a young boy hobbit’s nose and he giggled.  While I grew a yellow flower, picked it up from the ground and turned to the little hobbit girl who sat in front of me. “And gave out flowers.” She took the flower and smelled it.  “But he held a great sorrow in his heart. For his family had been taken away from him, taken by a monster of Shadow and Flame.”

I then used Sprite’s illusions to create a constellation of a Balrog.  It’s great wings opened up and it let out a roar.  The children all coward in fear at the beast as I made it disappear.

“The Starlight Celestial vowed to slaughter the great beast that took his family away from him. He had to go through many trials and dangers to find the great beast.” I then made an illusion of Cain (although I didn’t use his full face. I made him appear the way I first met him but in the traditional Starlight Celestial uniform).

I made armies of orcs and goblins, dragons and great beasts appear as Cain battled them all.

“Until finally he came face to face with his greatest foe.” I made the Balrog appear before Cain, with the whip in its clawed grip.  “With a mighty flash from its whip, the Celestial fought against this great beast when suddenly—” as I made the Balrog whip Cain’s face, a sharp and loud screech was heard and I saw a great big firework shoot up into the sky and it morphed itself into a dragon.

The kids all hopped up and were in awe of the mighty dragon that shot up into the night sky, it’s wings starting to open up and fly back. Soon the excitement and awe in the crowd turned to horror as the dragon got a little too close to everyone.  I gathered the children and told them to stay together and not be afraid.

I told them to get down and they did just that while I shielded as many as I could with not only my body but Thena’s shields as well.  The dragon firework flew over the lake before briefly disappearing and then going off with the biggest boom I had seen a firework make.

“Are all of you okay?” I asked the children dropping my shields.  They all nodded and choired out.

“Yes Miss Hela.” I stroked as many little hobbit heads as I could before standing up to investigate just what—or I should say who caused that dragon firework to go off.  And it seemed I wasn’t the only one wanting to know.

“You too huh?” I asked.

“Mmm. And I’ve got an idea of just who the mischief makers are.” He said to me.

“I believe you and I are thinking the same thing Gandalf. But just where are they is the question?”  Gandalf tapped my shoulder and we saw smoke just a few yards away from us as well as a missing tent.  I looked to him and he decided to make the first move while I followed behind him.

“That was good.” Said one of the two mischievous hobbits behind the mayhem.

“Let’s get another one.” Said his younger counterpart. Gandalf snuck up behind them and gripped both their ears tightly which made them groan in pain as they looked up.

“Meriadoc Brandybuck. And Peregrin Took. We might’ve known.” I crouched in front of them and I said.

“What say you Gandalf? What punishment befits these wee devils? For nearly scaring the little ones I say turn them into mice and I can morph into a cat. See how they like it?”

“Oh please Hela don’t do that! We didn’t mean it!” Peregrin aka Pippin pleaded to me.

“Yes, yes it was all just a bit of fun! I told someone to stick it in the ground outside of the tent, but someone lit the fuse too early.” Meriadoc aka Merry said to me.  His eyes gesturing over to Pippin as he kept saying ‘someone’.

“It was in the ground and it was your idea!”

“Enough bickering!” I snapped at them lightly which got them to be quiet.

“No need Hela. I’ve got something else in mind.” Gandalf said.

Washing dishes.  A fairly decent punishment, at least it’ll keep them out of trouble.

“Once you both are finished, you both are to go to the Hobbit families of the children I was entertaining and apologize to them for nearly scaring them with your antics.” I told them as I took a bite of my cake.

“Yes Hela.” They both said in a trance-like response.  It was then the crowd went in an uproar praising Bilbo to make his birthday speech.  Bilbo at first just drank away at his ale before finally giving into the crowd’s demand.  He walked over and climbed up on top of a barrel, the cheering grew louder as Bilbo began to greet every Hobbit family.

“My dear Bagginses and Boffins, Tooks and Brandybucks.” With each family name he proclaimed, a proud cheer came from those families. “Grubbs, Chubbs, Hornblowers, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, and Proudfoots.”

“Proudfeet!” exclaimed an elderly, chubby hobbit in a snappy tone correcting Bilbo’s name proclamation which made everyone laugh.

“Today is my 111th birthday!” I clapped along with the hobbits and raised my cup to him giving him an affectionate wink.  “But alas, eleventy-one years is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable Hobbits.” Some of the crowd clapped while others aww’d at Bilbo’s compliment.  “I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.”

Wow, whether that was a compliment or an insult even I couldn’t tell and neither could any of the Hobbits.  But it still made me slightly grin at the corner of my lips.

“I uhh….” Bilbo trailed off as he pushed the right side of his jacket aside, his fingers going down into his waistcoat pocket like it always does.  “I ha-have things to do.” I noticed a gleam of something gold go into his palm as his hand went behind his back.  I turned to Gandalf to see that he too, was suspicious about Bilbo’s strange behavior. “I’ve put this off for far too long.” I saw his lips say as he whispered it.  “I regret to announce this is the end.” He spoke louder. “I’m going now. I bid you all a very fond farewell. Goodbye.”

And just like that he disappeared and the crowd went in an uproar of shock and bewilderment.

Oh my gods it-it couldn’t be…..I turned to Gandalf worriedly and saw his eyes had grown wide but held a sharpness to them.  He turned to me gesturing with his head for me to come with him and I used Makkari’s speed to get us back to Bilbo’s home before he could.

We stood by Bilbo’s fireplace waiting for him to arrive. I turned to Gandalf and signed to him.

‘You don’t think….’

“I do not know yet Hela. But we mustn’t jump to any conclusions. Not yet at the very least.” He said as he signed back to me.  Bilbo soon came walking by with his walking stick and a couple of candles in hand as Gandalf said to him. “I suppose you think that was terribly clever.” Bilbo slightly jumped before he told us.

“Come on Gandalf. Did you see their faces?” I dropped Makkari’s power and spoke.

“There are many magic rings in this world Bilbo Baggins, and none of them should be used lightly.”

“It was just a bit of fun Hela.” He told me as he began packing. One raise of my brow at him and he dropped the act and said, “Oh, you’re probably right. As usual.” He walked over to his fireplace to grab his pipe. “You both will keep an eye on Frodo, won’t you?”

“Four eyes.” Gandalf answered for the both of us. “As often as we can spare them.”

“I’m leaving everything to him.” Bilbo continued as he gathered up all his belongings for his trip to Rivendell.  

“What about this ring of yours?” Gandalf asked. “Is that staying too?”

“Yes, yes. It’s in an envelope over there on the mantelpiece.” Bilbo told him.  But as Gandalf went to search for it, Bilbo paused and said in a distant tone. “No….wait, it’s…..here in my pocket.” He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

Already I could sense something dark radiating in the room, and it was all coming from that little golden ring.  A familiar dark power.

“Isn’t that….isn’t that odd now?” Bilbo started off as he kept his eye on the little ring, fiddling with it between his fingers staring down at it in a weirdly, possessive way.  Like a starving man to some fresh meat.  “Yes, after all, why not? Why shouldn’t I keep it?”

“I think you should leave the ring behind, Bilbo.” Gandalf suggested.  “Is that so hard?”  Bilbo snapped out of his lustful trance turning to us.

“Well, no….and yes.” His tone at first sounding innocent before going harsh and possessive.  “Now it comes to it, I don’t feel like parting with it. It’s mine I found it! It came to me!”

“Now there’s no need to get angry.” I reassured him.

“Well if I’m angry, it’s your fault!” he snapped at me. My eyes twitched and my heart skipped a beat in fear.  Never before has Bilbo acted this way before, even when he would lose his temper it was never like this.

And then he said a phrase that has not been uttered but by only one creature.

“It’s mine. My own……my precious.”

“Precious?” Gandalf and I both questioned.

“It’s been called that before, but not by you.” Gandalf said. Bilbo then turned to us with a sharp turn of his head and snapped at us animalistically like a rapid animal.

“What business is it of yours what I do with my own things?!”

“Bilbo I think you’ve had that ring for long enough.” I told him in a firm tone.

“You want it for yourselves. Both of you!”

“BILBO BAGGINS!!” Gandalf and I both proclaimed.  My hands glowed with my Celestial power, my hair standing on end like sails in the wind as I slightly levitated over the ground, my eyes glowing pure white.

While in Gandalf’s case he grew larger and the room grew dark just like it once did in the company of Thorin Oakenshield when he tried to convince the dwarves to allow Bilbo to join in the Quest to reclaim Erebor.

“DO NOT TAKE US FOR SOME CONJURER OF CHEAP TRICKS!!!” Gandalf’s voice going into the deep, intimidating voice while mine echoed like a thousand voices. “We are not trying to rob you.” We eased out magic and I lowered myself back down to the ground as I told him in a softer, more assuring tone.

“We’re trying to help you.” Bilbo’s fear immediately turned to sorrow as he came up to me.  I lowered myself down to his height and embraced him as he softly wept into my chest. I stroked his curly, grey hair.

“All these long years that we’ve been friends. My dear little Hobbit. Trust Gandalf and I as you once did.” I cupped the side of his face wiped the tearstains from his face, as well as the tears that were in the corner of his eye.

“She’s right Bilbo. Let it go.” Gandalf said as he joined us.

“You’re right. Hela and Gandalf. The ring must go to Frodo.” With a sniffle he walked away and placed his backpack on his back. “It’s late. The road is long. Yes, it is time.” He walked towards his door and opened it.  However before he stepped out I told him as I stood up.

“Bilbo….” He stopped. “The ring is still in your pocket.” He turned to me nervously like a child who had been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar.  A slight nervous smile and he said as he dug into his pocket holding the ring in his hand.

“Yes.” He muttered.  He stared down at the ring, his hand slightly tremoring almost like he was still trying to keep it with him.  Gandalf stood at my side as we watched Bilbo carefully until finally he let it drop to the floor with a clank.  

Immediately after that he walked out of his home and we followed him out.  He paused for a moment before telling us out of the blue.

“I thought up an ending for my book.” He turned to us and he continued, “‘And he lived happily ever after, till the end of his days’.”

“And we’re sure you will, our dear friend.” Gandalf said as he knelt down before Bilbo.

“Goodbye Gandalf.” He said as he held out his hand.  Gandalf took his hand in both of his and bid him goodbye.

“Goodbye, dear Bilbo.” He gave him a wink before Bilbo turned to me.  I knelt down before him and he said to me.

“Goodbye Hela.” I smiled and cupped the side of his face.

“Goodbye my dear little friend. May the Light of the Moon guide you on your path safely.” I then gave him a Celestial kiss on his forehead.

A kiss to protect and guide him safely till he would reach Rivendell where I knew he would spend the rest of his years in quiet and comfort.

I also embraced my favorite Hobbit and he hugged me back before he began his travels singing the same song Gandalf was singing on our way here. I stood up close to Gandalf as we both whispered together,

“Until our next meeting.”

Gandalf opened the door slowly and there right at our feet was Bilbo’s ring.  The golden band bouncing off light from the fireplace yet there was an air of evil and darkness surrounding it.  I slowly walked around it while Gandalf took a couple steps around it, the two of us slowly leaning down towards it.

“You feel it too don’t you?” he asked me in more of a statement than a question.

“I’ve only felt this evil once before. And it was inside me. Gandalf…..please tell me this isn’t what I fear it is.” He didn’t respond to me only just slowly reached his hand over it.  As his fingers nearly grabbed it, I was caught with a flashback of the Great Eye as I let out a gasp and Gandalf’s hand retreated from the ring.

“Hela—”

“I must seek council with him. I’m sorry Gandalf. Tell Frodo I’m sorry for my sudden departure.”

“I know my dear Celestial. Do what you must.” He said comfortingly as he placed a hand on my shoulder.  I smiled before shifting into Makkari’s uniform and quickly speeding out of the Shire.

I ran past all the rolling fields, the forests, past Farmer Maggot’s fields and finally came out of Hobbiton altogether.  The light of the moon gazed it’s white light upon the land and I got into meditation position.

Taking a few deep breaths in and out I used Druig’s magic to reach out to Cain.

‘Cain. Brother Cain do you hear me?’ I waited for a response. All the whole Bilbo’s familiar phrase.

“It’s mine, My own. My precious.” Kept haunting over my thoughts, lingering like a dark presence.

‘Brother, please! I must speak with you!’ I reached out urgently.  The light of the moon seemed to grow brighter as it’s rays shined down upon me and soon Cain’s warm comforting voice spoke back to me.

‘I’m here little sister. I’m here.’ A flash of light and I found myself deep within my mind just like before and there stood Cain.  His shining eyes staring in my general direction. “Whatever is the matter little sister? Surely after attending a birthday party of your dear Hobbit friend Bilbo Baggins you would not call me in this distress manner.”

“Brother Cain…...” I told him.  “We, Gandalf and I….we believe to have found it.” His head tilted slightly.  “The One Ring.” At this his face grew grim and he turned away.  “I could be wrong but—there was an evil about it. An evil I’ve felt but only once before.”

“When Sauron’s spirit tried to possess your body. Yes I remember. Gods never did I wish to have my full power again to save you. Balrogs and Deviants are one thing but to have the Dark Lord’s very spirit inside your head…..” he came up to me cupping my face in his hands.

“I know Cain. I know you would’ve done all you could to send his spirit out of me. That’s why I came to you after the Battle of the Five Armies.” He nodded.  “But now 60 years after it all happened, surely Bilbo couldn’t have found it then.”

“But you must also remember Hela, the creature Gollum took it deep into the Misty Mountains. And for 500 years in his cave the Ring consumed and poisoned his mind before abandoning him.”

“You saw him pick it up then?”

“I cannot sense evil like you can. Part of being the Celestial of Death is that objects of pure evil can be sensed by only you and no other Celestial. It’s power was dormant even when in Bilbo’s possession.”

“Until now. Sauron’s ready to return to full strength.”

“It’s heard it’s Master’s call. And He will summon all of his forces to find it.”

“But-but the Ring it’s……Frodo. Oh gods Frodo I must go back and tell them.”

“I’m afraid you cannot Hela.” He told me.  I backed away from him and demanded.

“Why not!? We’ve confirmed it that Ring is in fact Sauron’s Ring.”

“Mithrandir is doing his own investigation and he will tell Frodo if it is indeed the Ring of Power. You however must not go near that Ring until such time has passed.”

“What are you saying Cain?” he sighed heavily.

“I nearly lost you once to Sauron’s very life force, I cannot allow you to fall again. Especially now with your newly grown power. Remember why I gave you that ring.”

“Yes brother I remember.” I said fiddling with it.

“If he forces you to take that ring off, he will have access to the unlimited power of the Celestials. And that is something Ajax never wanted. Not of Morgoth and certainly not of Sauron.”

“Then what must I do?” I asked him after being silent for a moment or two.

“You must hide. But not in a building or behind a human face. Remember your spiritual training with the Goddess Yavanna?”

“You suggest I roam Middle Earth—as an animal?”

“Animal forms don’t seep out Celestial energy like a person’s body does. It’s the only way to keep you safe until such time has passed.”

“But Cain. The longer I stay as an animal, the more I could lose myself. You must know of what happened to Sister Nymeria. She shifted into a wolf for an entire month on a foolish dare and she couldn’t shift back. Within six months she lost herself and fully became the wolf and we never saw her again.”

“I know. But there is one that I can bless who will keep you sane until it is safe.”

“And who would that be?” I asked.

“I’m sure you remember a certain Ranger that you’ve grown quite close to these past few decades.” I smiled softly.

“Aragorn.” He nodded with a soft smile.

“So long as you stay by his side, you will not fall into a mindless beast. Plus, he’s going to need your protection just as much as you’ll need his. Being Isildur’s heir, Sauron has been hunting him for decades.”

“I know. But how will he know it’s me? He’ll think me no more as a common beast. What if he tries to attack or worse kill me?”

“Leave it all to me dear little sister.”

“I swear you and Gandalf must’ve met before because you both always give me vague answers.” He softly chuckled as he gave me a kiss. “How do we do this? Should I come to you or—”

“No. You must not come to the South. Sauron’s forces are heavily arming themselves for war. If you so much as speed by here, they’ll alert you to Sauron without hesitation. We’ll do it from where you stand.”

“Can a spell even work that far a distance?” I asked him.

“There’s always a first time for everything.”

“Not comforting brother.” I grumbled.

“Alright, alright. Just relax. Send your spirit back to your body but keep the connection between our minds strong.” I nodded and allowed my spirit to return back to my body as I let out a soft gasp.

‘Steady sister, steady. Deep breaths now.’ Cain’s voice said in my head as I saw the moon glow brighter with his response.  ‘Now close your eyes. Remember every detail of the creature you wish to become.’ I thought long and hard and soon the image of Icarus came to mind.  ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ teased Cain.  ‘But if I might suggest, a hawk would better be suited for you.’

‘I accept.’

‘Now as I said. Imagine every detail of a hawk. Every pattern detail, the shape of the beak, the talon’s. Every small detail you can think of.’ Taking a few deep breaths I did exactly as Cain said.

I have seen the great kings of old use messenger hawks, even the old kings of Rohan would send me messenger hawks if they ever needed my help. I pictured every detail until I felt myself being lifted up high into the sky.

In my head I could hear Cain chanting an ancient Elvish spell and I could start to feel my very bones shift and crack.  I tried to hold in my screams as I could feel my body slowly shrinking and my arms shift into wings.  Unlike shifting using Celestial magic, I was forced to endure every inch of my body morphing into the hawk I was going to be.

My face scrunched inward as I felt my nose sharpen before extending out like a beak.  Feathers soon began to grown from my body and my toe nails extended before hardening into talons.  I let out one final human cry of pain before it was replaced with a hawk’s shriek.  My transformation finally complete after what felt like hours of torture and pure agony.

‘Easy Hela, easy. Give your body time to adjust.’ Cain said as I was now being lowered back down to the ground.  I surrendered to the tiredness and the last thing I heard him say was this; ‘Your Ranger is near Mirkwood. Find him before the end of the month. Protect him and he shall protect you.’

My vision soon went black as I surrendered to my exhaustion.

[bored-storyteller]

Hey! I really like how you write about Sally Face, I love how you highlight his kindness but also his strength. It struck me a lot how he wonders if anyone will ever love him, I guess it's hard for him to believe in someone's love for him, from a romantic point of view. I thought ... could you write something about a reader in love with him, who gets rejected for that reason but still loves him until Sal dies? You don't have to do it (also because you prefer angst / comfort right?), But I try to ask you ... I'd like to see it written by you. It will hurt but it will be worth it.

Dear Anon,

I hope you like this because I suffered the pain of hell writing this :3

But jokes aside, I hope it does justice to your expectations, I hope I have treated everything with the right delicacy.

Warning: ANGST and SPOILER (I say this for safety)

The story is set in the canonical plot, even if there may be slight differences (after all there is always one more character, you). But for those who haven't played Sally Face this could be revealing.

77- Sally Face, Sal Fisher x reader (Angst)

“The sunflower that cannot bloom “

"I love you."

Those words had slipped off your lips with one of the most beautiful smiles Sal had ever seen.

You weren't perfect, but you were tailor-made for him. Somehow, he had thought that from the first day he met you, by mistake, on a black day. You had offered him a sunflower, a huge yellow flower that shone like the sun in the midst of his misfortunes, and his black day had grown better.

This was you, what he needed when the weight was too much to carry, when he found himself snorting one too many times, when he felt like crying.

Still, even though you were tailor-made for him, he wasn't tailor-made for you.

He would have liked to believe you, with all his heart, he would have asked for nothing more than to be loved by you.

But he couldn't believe it.

"No, you don't ..." His voice was gentle, as if he were explaining something important to a little child.

Your brows had furrowed as you pointed your gaze into the depths of his soul.

"You do not believe me?" Your tone wandered between uncertainty and offense "Do you think I'm lying to you?"

A sigh rang through the empty hollows of his mask: “No, you're not lying to me. I just think you… don't really know what you're saying. "

Your expression deepened as you prepared to argue back. He had seen the wound open inside you and he had looked away; he couldn't watch you while he hurt you.

Oh, he was so good at making himself loved. The river of emotions that had overwhelmed you had died out as soon as his one living eye was separated from you.

Disappointment, anger, sadness had disappeared in favor of affection for him.

His mask was flat, helpless, cold towards his heart, yet he communicated more than anyone else with that immense little soul of him.

"Sal ..." finally you called him gently, reassuring, while your fingers lovingly brushed the cheek of the cold prosthesis.

"I love you." You repeated it, and he turned to tell you to stop. He couldn't be loved, he didn't feel capable of being loved.

He would never have a love like that of movies, or even like that of normal people, like Maple and Chug. He, as he was, could never have been loved, not even by you.

He was going to tell you, to tell you everything, but you stopped him softly: "but it's okay if you don't want to."

You barely laughed, as if everything was really okay with you, and you leaned on his shoulder, cuddling against his neck.

"I have my whole life to make you understand." You said cheerfully, and he just looked at you, accepting that little stubbornness of yours.

Even though he was aware that one day he would see you happy in the arms of someone you really would love, for the time being it was okay for him to bask in that little illusion you were giving him.

---

Life had been cruel.

"I had no choice."

Those words had pierced your brain.

The first time he had told you with a force that you almost confused with anger. His body had never been so rigid in front of you, motionless, sitting on the other side of the table in the visiting room of the prison, surrounded by other inmates like him.

You wondered if you were sane, because you looked into the eyes of a murderer, a killer who had exterminated families, who had even killed a little girl, yet your tears were for them, but also for him.

Whatever it was, Sal hadn't changed, and behind his mask he was more broken into pieces than you were. He hadn't had a choice, for some reason he hadn't had a choice.

It was weird and unreal, but you had no doubts about him, even though your mind still couldn't believe what happened, and Sal probably didn't really realize it either.

However, the second time he told you "I had no choice" his voice was different. He was different, and so were you. You had grown up, but both of you had stood still in what had happened. At that moment he was telling you so that you believed him, so that you knew it was not what he wanted, because if he could have chosen at that moment you would have been together in front of a pizza, telling you how boring the day had been.

"I beg you ..." You whispered so as not to let him hear how broken your voice was "... tell me what I have to do to save you."

It was the first time you used that word, out of pure desperation.

For a moment he hesitated and hoped you wouldn't see his uncertainty behind the mask. Finally, Sal shook his head in silence; he didn't know if it would do any good, but at least he would try to protect you.

Your hand was holding his for the first time in years, and you both knew it would be the last time you would hold it. You had done everything to be able to have that last contact, to still be able to hold him before they took him away from you forever.

You didn't want to cry, you wouldn't have done it on your last time together, but your heart was so heavy that you thought you would die as soon as you separated.

While you massaged the back of his hand with your thumb, you tried to record every detail in your mind that belonged to him, to burn the heat of his palm against yours, to remember the exact weight of his touch.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, you never stopped doing it, not a second you stopped giving him your best side, and you would have given it only to him also in the future.

"You are so important to me, Sal ..." your blue sky under which sunflowers bloom.

"Thank you ... for always being with me."

Part of you died when you let go of his hand that day.

---

Until the last you hoped that something would happen. A ghost that suddenly appears, an angel, a new discovery ... anything, as long as he was kept away from that electric chair.

When your phone rang, you were deluded for a moment.

"Hey…"

"Sal?"

"They ... allowed me to call whoever I wanted ..."

Your heart fell on hearing his voice. It was his last day, his last day in your own world, that was his farewell to you.

"Sal, I-" Your words broke into a sob you couldn't hold back "I'm with you, I'll always be with you."

Silence invaded the line between the two of you as you tried not to give him your tears as your last caress.

"I know it." He was holding back the crying, you could hear it "And I'll always be with you too, know that."

You were tailor-made for him, and his heart would remain for you, even if you moved on, you would love someone worthy sooner or later, or at least he hoped you would, that the demon would not devour your future. .

"Bring me some sunflowers if you can ... ok?" That request trembled "They always make me think of you."

You forced yourself to cover your mouth with your palm to stifle your agony: "I'll fill you with sunflowers."

Something told you that even if you couldn't see him, he was trying to smile: "It's a bit a cliché but ... be happy."

You would have preferred to have died in that very moment.

"Sal, wait!" You begged for him now, holding on to the phone like it was him, like you could hold him there.

He hesitated at the desperation of your voice.

"I can't ..." his voice was soft, light, like when he consoled you years ago, when all this seemed simply impossible.

“I beg you…” You didn't know who you were really praying for, but you weren't ready to hear his voice go out.

One more minute, one more touch, a hug.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry you had to put up with this." A sob from him too. “Please… fight for your happiness, okay? You deserve all the happiness in the world. "

"Sal ..."

The answer that followed was the only intermittent sound of the blank phone line.

It's over, you'll never be able to hear Sal's voice again. You won't be able to talk to him anymore.

And he never believed you loved him.

---

How could you ever be happy?

His mask still looks at you as it always did, but behind the empty gaze there are nothing but blades of grass growing above his burial.

How could they bury him without his mask? He will feel uncomfortable.

Now you don't have to be strong for him anymore, you can collapse, break, destroy yourself, scream like you've never screamed, ask him to come back, because you need him.

Your fingers caress the cold, hard cheeks of his prosthesis as they always did, as if he were still behind it. Next to it, the sunflower he asked you for, like the one you gave him the first time you saw him.

"I love you Sally face ..." your words now go to the wind, they cannot be refused.

"I really love you."

---

Where you don't know, where you are not, a guy who has the weight of the world on his shoulders thinks about how much he could never be loved as people love each other in movies, or how people love each other in the world. But suddenly, like a ray of light, in the darkness he is facing, the yellow of a sunflower blooms. It's just a thought, but for a moment it's warm, and sweet, and it carries your voice with it.

You exist only within him, but you give him the love he needs, the one he didn't believe in, but which instead exists.

It is a tormented love, which suffers, but still welcomes him and wraps him as your arms did.

You are not there, you are far away, unreachable.

But he feels it, you're still there with him

[prettybirdy979]

Flash Fiction: "Not like this."

Finally posting the ficlets I did in Discord for the March Flash Fiction challenge of @kedreeva. Gonna post one a day until they’re all done

Warnings for canon typical violence and Heaven being awful.

‘We have a gift for you,’ Gabriel says. ‘Something you prayed for.’

Aziraphale pauses, his footsteps echoing in the empty halls of Heaven. ‘Angels don’t pray,’ he says carefully, his voice tight. ‘We have a direct line, there’s no need for something so… human.’

It’s a lie, of course. If a careful one.

Angels don’t pray, but Aziraphale does. 

He prays for things he cannot have. 

Like Crowley.

Gabriel laughs, that fake noise he always makes. ‘Oh we know. So it was strange, when we checked the prayer records and found all of yours.’

Aziraphale stumbles, tripping over nothing as he forces himself to keep moving. ‘My prayers?’ he asks, in a high voice.

‘Dear Lord,’ Gabriel recites in a sing-song voice, ‘please show me the way so that I may convince him to change his ways.’ An early prayer and fuck, they have Aziraphale’s early prayers!

‘Dear Lord,’ Gabriel continues, like Aziraphale isn’t having to fight to make his body remember it doesn’t need oxygen to live, ‘Show me the right path, so that I may do your bidding and keep him safe.’

Then Gabriel sighs. ‘Dear Lord. Let me keep him safe… Let me keep him.’

‘Gabriel-’ Aziraphale starts but the Archangel holds up a hand.

‘No, Aziraphale. We know. You have been on Earth for so long, and that thing was the only thing around for all of it. Of course you went a little overboard with the whole ‘salvation is for everyone’ thing. But that’s okay! We have it figured out for you.’

Gabriel opens a door and leads Aziraphale through.

Aziraphale freezes as the only thing in the room registers in his brain.

‘So we have a gift,’ Gabriel says, pointing at the bound Crowley. His yellow eyes are visible, but glazed, as if he has been drugged. He is even wearing white.

He looks, in fact, nothing like the Crowley Aziraphale knows.

‘Something for you,’ Gabriel continues, like Aziraphale’s heart isn’t breaking in front of him, ‘so that you can continue to serve Heaven with your due diligence and not have to worry about this thing anymore.’ 

He nudges Crowley with a foot. ‘It’s not very responsive, but it’s yours to do with as you will. Once you’re done, smite it, would you?’

And with that, he leaves. 

Aziraphale slowly kneels before Crowley, putting gentle hands on his friend. ‘Oh Crowley,’ he whispers, running a soft hand down his demon’s cheek. ‘This isn’t what I wanted. Not like this.’

He leans in and places a gentle kiss to Crowley’s brow. ‘I’m going to get you out of this,’ he promises. ‘Everything is going to be okay.’ he lies.

And Aziraphale stands, full of resolve. ‘You’re going to be okay,’ he intones and the universe had better be ready for him.

[sashi-ya]

{+18} – Cherry Blossom & Tangerines – Trafalgar Law x Y/n – Part 6 -FINAL

Modern AU. Trip to Jeju Island, SK. No spoilers.

Female reader. No physical descriptions. Everybody is +18, canon ages. Chopper is human.

Tw: NSFW, soft sub/dom, unprotected sex (this is just fiction, pls wear protection). Spanking. Airplane sex. Car sex. Semipublic sex. Fluff!.

A/N: This is the final chapter. I included a one-year time skip after they came back from the trip, it is extremely romantic and fluffy, so you can choose either read it or not. I hope you like it! Thank you so much for reading and to all of my new followers. We are still less than 100 but I love you all!

Word Count: 5.9 K

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31059467

» List of parts: {P1} {P2} {P3} {P4} {P5} {P6}«

Final part:

Suddenly I felt a cold shiver run through my spine. The way he said it, his expression… I was expecting the worst.

He then grabbed my hands and faced me. He began to sweat, subtly, but I could see some beads falling from his hair into his neck. “Y/n-ya, I- I know you maybe … you may think this is fast…”, “BROTHER!!!” Penguin hugged Law from behind, scaring the hell out of him and cutting his words.

“Oh, dear Lord, stop interrupting Law when he is about to speak!” I thought, but instantly greeted Lami, as she came closer. She looked so pretty with a red and white hanbok decorated with little embroidered sakura flowers on silver and gold threads all over the skirt.

I glimpsed Law who was clearly trying to kill his friend for interrupting him, while Lami and I kept admiring each other's dresses.

We went ahead to have some delicious food from some stalls next to a little lake the park has, everything was shining, and for some minutes I forgot about what Law wanted to tell me. Yet, the fear of hearing something similar to a “goodbye” was installed in me, and wouldn’t let me enjoy the night as I wished I could.

We reunited with our friends to witness the main parade. Everybody took his place around the main street that crossed the park, as the presenters announced it via the loudspeakers. Loud music began to play, people with typical dresses marching, a big dragon fully lit with green, blue, red, yellow lights, stole the show, dancing to the sound of the representative music.

Law was next to me; he hadn’t looked at me since the moment we got interrupted. He would only peek at me when he thought I didn’t see him. “What’s going on, Law?…” I thought, trying to stop the urge to cry I was feeling.

The mc of the event announced that it was time for the main tradition of the festival, inviting the happy couples to lit the lanterns on the shore of the lake. “Y/N, you have to make a wish when both of you light the candle of the paper lantern and let it fly!”, Lami told me as she was being pulled by Penguin to the lake direction. I giggled, that couple was so cute…

I gazed at Law, smiling, warmly. He was still looking at the remaining people dancing on the parade, he seemed uncomfortable. I didn’t say a word and softly held his hand.

I saw how Vivi and Nami, Robin and Franky, and even Zoro and Sanji went to the lake to ignite the little lanterns, but Law didn’t even move. “Well, I guess that’s for couples, after all.”, I mumbled.

Torao held my hand tightly and finally spoke, “Y/n-ya, I’m sorry, would you like to light one of those with me?”. Of course, Law… How come he could be so dominating in bed, and yet this had taken him so long?”, I thought. Yet I answered “yes” politely but excitedly.

We walked to the stall that was giving away the lanterns. “Oi, young man, you arrived just in time, this is the last one!”, said the old guy and gave him the kraft paper sky lantern. “Thanks”, said Law coldly.

We found a little free spot over a cute wooden bridge that crossed the lake and as hundreds of lights full of dreams and wishes began to fly around us and to the sky, Law helped me light ours.

“Make a wish, Law…” I said fixing my eyes on his. “Uhum…”, he said and smiled. We both closed our eyes. I wished with all of my heart “I don’t want this to end, I want to be with you forever”, and I released the lantern from my hands. “I don’t want it either, I want to be with you forever”, I heard him say. “What?”, I asked confused. “You… said your wish out loud, Y/n-ya”, Law told me, smiling.

My whole face became red, how am I so stupid?... “Wait, you don’t want this to end once we come back home?”, I almost shouted at him, giving little jumps in place, “I- I thought you… you wanted to tell me that..”.

“What I wanted to say was…”, Law stopped and took a breath of air so he could continue, “I wanted to say that I love you. I know this might be quick, but the truth is that I’ve been in love with you from the -shadows- from a long, long time”.

He left me perplexed, I was trying to articulate my words, I loved him too, I was so happy I heard those words from him but… a long time?.

“Let me explain it to you”, he said and I nodded. “Well, I’m sure you think that the first time we met was actually on the bus, right?”. “Uhum'', I answered. “As you may know, I live with Rosinante and Doflamingo. Truth is, every time you went to buy either coffee - I know you prefer bobba tea on wednesdays, but, when your classes are heavier you often buy a cold brew- or flowers - mainly sunflowers and daisies- I looked from behind the counter. You probably didn’t see me, because I tend to be in the kitchen, but whenever you entered and I heard your voice I peeked through the door to watch your pretty face. Plus, we ride the same bus every morning, I always sit behind you, and I usually use a face mask so… yeah”.

I was dumbfounded, and still couldn’t say a word, so he continued. “Please, I hope you don’t think I’m some kind of stalker or something like that. Destiny seemed to always put you on my way, so I couldn’t help but look. When I realized Luffy, Zoro and the guys were your friends I just had to ask about you, they told me you were an amazing person, and that I wasn’t wrong, you were a very sweet girl.”.

“L-Law…” I gasped, and jumped to his arms and buried my head on his chest. “I love you too, I’ve been trying to stop myself from doing it. But… I don’t need any reasons to, I just feel it, I love you… Why didn't you speak to me before?!” I said while he petted my head. “I am sorry, I could be dominating only in some situations, but this scares me to death. I was frightened you could reject me”, he said a little embarrassed. “Don’t be sorry, fool, kiss me”, I said and kissed him softly but full of love. We enjoyed the spectacle the little lanterns gave to us while dancing with the soft breeze, garnishing the night sky like stars.

Some minutes after, Law caressed my cheek with a sexy side smirk and said, “what if… you know… get lost, one more time…”. “Heh, lead the way, Sir”, I said to him, biting my lower lip. He snatched my arm and pulled from me. We ran through the bridge, wind blowing into our faces, little sakura buds falling around us. Law running facing me, not even looking at his front, smiling, both laughing.

He unlocked the car and we got inside fast; we didn’t want anybody to interrupt us for at least a few hours. That was our moment, for us only. Law stepped on the gas pedal and we headed off home as quickly as possible. Because our Airbnb was a little far from the city center, we had to drive through subtly remote routes for a few kilometers in the countryside.

My lover was driving fast but safe, and besides us being all hyped and happy, he wouldn’t take his eyes from the road. Law was a really responsible driver. Yet, not everybody that night was being reliable because suddenly, a brilliant light came towards us on the road. Law turned the wheel as fast as he could to avoid a crash, making the car sidetrack to the left of the road. Luckily the road shoulder had a good size and it was in good condition so he could handle the situation perfectly.

He stopped the vehicle, and laid his head on his hands. “Ugh…”, Law sighed. I did the same, too. I was scared as hell; I couldn’t even speak.

I noticed how my boyfriend’s hands were subtly shaking, as well as his right leg. I tried to caress at least his back but he shouted at me “STOP!”.

I got scared but rapidly realized he had started to breathe more and more fast and uncontrollably. I had one year of med school yet to go, but I was able to recognize a patient having a panic attack. And Law was certainly beginning to suffer one.

I remembered the water bottle from the beach last night, so I looked for it and gave it to him. “Drink a little, and then breathe in, and breathe out. I’m here with you. We are alright. You did it perfectly”. He looked at me, in distress and grabbed the bottle. “That’s right, drink it slowly…”, I said almost whispering to calm Law, grabbing his hand softly.

Suddenly the memories of Lami telling me his story came to my mind. Law had lost his parents in a car accident… “that must be the reason this affected him so much…”, I thought.

“I- I’m sorry Y/n-ya, it’s… it’s just because… my parents…”, Law tried to say to me with tears in his eyes. “Don’t apologize for it, I know about your parents, Lami told me. I’m here with you, I love you, ok?. We are ok, we are safe and sound, thanks to you.” I told him, and hugged him tightly because he showed he was open to more invasive physical contact.

He nestled his head on my shoulder, “I wouldn’t forgive myself if something bad happened to you, I want to protect you, I love you”. “Nothing bad is going to happen to me as long as you are with me. I love you too”, I said while brushing his hair with my fingers. We remained like that for a few minutes more, parked on the side of the road, until Law stopped sobbing.

I saw through the car window a vast sunflower field ahead of us. The sound of crickets singing and the soft breeze compensated for the solitude of the countryside, and a big moon in the sky bathed the flowers with its shine. “I got an idea… let’s explore the field, I love sunf…”, I said, and Law finished my sentence, “Sunflowers, you love sunflowers”. He smiled at me, and we got out of the car.

We ran through the sunflowers, Law a little more careful than me, trying to keep up the pace from behind.

“Auch!”, I shouted and grabbed my left forearm, apparently some branches had scratched my skin. My personal doctor came closer to me with concern “What? what happened? are you ok?”, he said, grasping my arm. “It’s just a scratch, doc. I’m ok!”, I said downplaying the situation. “I don’t think so, let me see”, he said and started kissing the little wound, softly, inviting, provocatively. “We are in the middle of a field, are you going to fuck me here? what's next, huh?” I said, irreverently with a smirking face. Law pulled me closer by my arm, and grabbed my chin saying, “I think you might have forgotten who gives the orders in here. If I want to fuck you right here, right now I’ll”. He made a pause, and continued “Unless you don’t want to, you just have to tell me, ok?”. “It’s ok, I always want you to fuck me, you will know otherwise, don’t worry”, I said, happy he knew exactly the rules of consent. “Let’s take care of that wound you have first”, he said almost laughing at my face when he walked away. I thought he was going to take me there, or at least kiss me… I followed him to the car, a little upset.

Law opened the trunk and looked for the first-aid kit. He used an alcohol wipe over the little scratch and placed a band aid over it, “I’m sorry I don’t have some fancy Hello Kitty ones, but this will do”, he said, smirking. “Can I have a lollipop, doctor? I behaved properly like the good girl I am”, I said, pouting my mouth. “Oh, so the good girl wants a pop? On your knees. Now.”, he ordered me with piercing eyes.

“Yes, doctor”, I said and knelt down on the dirt. Of course, I didn’t care about the rental dress at that moment, but damn it, next morning we had to pay a large amount of money for ruining them…

He untied the cords of the <bagi> trousers, and let them fall to the ground, revealing his member. “Suck it, doll”. “Yes, sir”, I said and grabbed his dick with one of my hands. Slowly tasting it, sweet kissing the tip of it, leaving little smooches on and around it, while jacking him off. Finally, I put it all in my mouth, making it touch my throat.

Law arched his back and grunted, and then hit his back against the car door. “Fuck - mmh - baby…”. I kept sucking, until he couldn’t resist it anymore. “Come here”, he said in between pleasure hums. He grabbed my wrist, pulled me up and in a unique fast and violent movement, I ended up over the bonnet with my cheek pressed against the yellow Sonata.

Law was behind me, reaching my throat from the back and grinded against the skirt of my hanbok. “I’m gonna fuck you right here, and if some cars pass I wish they see your face enjoying my dick”, he whispered into my ear, with a perverse tone.

“Yes, Sir. Fuck me, please”, I begged him, I was a whimpering mess, so needy, so aroused. He then untied the bow that was keeping my skirt on and let it slowly slip to the ground. “Oh...I love your little panties”, Law said and brutally ripped them off.

Inked fingers played around the inside of my thighs, up and down. I was almost dripping from how wet I was. His hands caressed my ass cheeks for a moment, until the first spank came. “hmm”, the tingling sensation over my skin after Law’s strong palm hit my ass. “HMMM”, after the second spank. Another one, followed by his dick, penetrating me, with hard thrusts. “Damn, Law”, I cried. “Excuse me?, how did you call me?”, Law said and spanked me one more time. “I’m sorry, Sir”, I mumbled.

“That’s better, baby girl. By the way, good choice, this braid comes in handy”, he said and grabbed my braided hair and pulled from it. My stomach hitting the cold metal from the car, my head pulled back, strong thrusts, his cook stretching my walls, hard.

A few cars passed, and Law laughed saying “They probably saw us, ups…”. I was so focused on the pleasure his pounding was producing on me, I really didn’t care about others watching us, what’s more I think it contributed to the arousal even more.

I tightened more and more around his cock, moving my body against him, perfectly synchronized with his movements. His dick was deep inside of me, hitting my G spot perfectly. Yet this wasn’t enough for Law, so he reached with his hand my clit, and while keeping a brutal pace, his thumb played over it.

Law settled over me, pressing his stomach upon my back, I felt his accelerated breathing on my ear mixed with “I.love.you.baby” with every thrust. Sniveling, whimpering, I said “I love you too”, repeatedly. I was reaching my peak.

I came a few minutes after, as well as Law, who once again filled my insides with his warm release.

Second round came and this time Law managed to flip me over. I was facing him, sat over the bonnet, legs spread. Law fucking me while choking me, teary eyes, my makeup was a mess. All my body muscles tightened, ambrosial sensation that my inked sex God was giving to me. Finally, cuming with Law pinning my back against the yellow car in the middle of nowhere. Two young lovers, thirsty for the other, we felt the need of letting our bodies command and succumb to the most primal fleshly lusts ignoring the whole world around us, until…

“Hi, hello, Y/n?? where are you???”, Nami shouted through the speaker of my cell phone. “Nams, we… uhm… Law and I, we are just driving around”, I poorly excused myself. “Yeah, of course. Driving... Listen, you have the car keys, where are you?”. I had completely forgotten I was the one who drove one of the cars, and that I had run away without any warning… “I’m sorry, you are still at the festival? I’m going there right now”.

I heard Law sending an audio, so I guess it was probably to Penguin or his sister. I reached his gaze when I hung up and both brayed out loud.

We drove back to the park, trying to fix our dirty hanboks, my makeup and my braid, that I finally ended up untying. Of course, everybody laughed at us, because it was too obvious we weren’t “driving around”.

The laughing stopped when Lami decided to communicate that we were now an official couple. Everyone congratulated us, and while I was happy I saw the death stare Law gave to Penguin. I couldn’t help but giggle, Law was so damn embarrassed…

The night came to the end, as well as our holidays. Time to come back home and get ready for going back to med school. It was the last semester for Law before graduation, and I had another one to go until I could became a doctor.

“My sweet sister-in-law, I hope to see you soon, take care please”, said Lami while hugging me and pointed to Law, “You, brother, take care of her, ok?”. “I will, little monster”, Law said to her with a loving gaze.

We said our goodbyes and parted. It was pretty late, and our flight was in the evening so we went straight to sleep. “Goodnight, boyfriend…”, I said to Law while snuggling onto his chest. “Heh, goodnight girlfriend…”, he whispered and kissed my head.

Next morning after breakfast, everyone packed their last things and prepared to leave our temporary home, where the best memories of my life from then on were made. We spent our last day enjoying the view of the beach from our patio and playing board games.

“I don’t want to go baaaack”, Vivi cried and hugged Chopper at the airport. “I don’t want to either”, I said a little sad, because whenever we arrived in Seoul our life would come back to normal and the fun would be over… Plus, I wouldn't get the chance to be with Law as much as in Jeju...

“Oi, babe, let me make the check in for us. Do you like the first row next to the bathroom?” Law said, approaching from behind me and almost whispering. I turned my face to him with a suspicious gaze, wondering why he was being so specific about the seats. “Yeah, it’s ok for me”, I said, still confused.

Chopper asked me if I could help him choose a gift for a nurse he liked. I let Law do the check in and followed my friend to the gift shop.

The whole “crew” boarded the plane. Finally, I sat on my seat, realizing that effectively was on the first row and next to the bathroom. Law was at my side, and helped me with the seat belt. “Remember when we went to that roller coaster? haha”, he said while fastening it and then caressing my thighs softly.

A few minutes passed since the plane began to move, and this time Law wasn’t even scared. He felt secure, he wasn’t anxious about the departure. I guess he felt assured next to me. I was happy about it, proud of my lover.

We were already flying on cruise level, the orange shades of the sun hiding in the clouds and setting, invaded the plane, and slowly the sky became darker. We had 50 minutes of flying time ahead.

I was looking at the photos on my phone gallery, smiling like an idiot in love, when Law asked me almost whispering into my ear, “babe, can you help me unfast my belt? I need to go to the bathroom”. I looked at him narrowing my eyes and approached my hands either way to help him. “Why do you need me to untie your…”, I stopped my speech when I felt how hard he was. “Thank God I can hide it under this long sweater, you know? that skirt you are using, your thighs…. I need treatment, do I have to ask if there is a doctor on the plane?... oh wait, you…” He said, smirking at me. Law stood up and told me, “I’ll be in the bathroom”.

I closed my eyes, taking my hand to my forehead. “I should have known, you damn horny little shit…”, I thought. Yet, I wasn’t willing to lose such a tempting invitation, so I waited a few minutes until I stood up and headed to the bathroom. I was aware that if we got caught it would bring us a lot of bad consequences, but, who could resist Trafalgar Law, right?.

“Law, it’s me, open, hurry up”, I said knocking on the bathroom door, while scanning if someone was watching. My boyfriend opened the little door and pulled me inside.

Of course, plane lavatories aren’t big enough for two people but the proximity in between our bodies made it easier for us to start making out, erotically, lustfully.

Law turned me over, pressing my body against the wash basin, cupped his hand over my mouth and sticked his hand up my skirt. He then moved aside my panties and brushed my entrance with his member. “Look at you, baby girl”, he said, making us watch our reflection on the little mirror on the wall.

We interlocked eyes, I reveled in Law’s grey piercing eyes full of desire. A simple look and Law would definitely understand what I wanted. He penetrated me, softly moving in and out, in order not to make so much noise that could make anyone suspect about what was going on inside the toilet.

But then, he changed the pace. One, two, three hard thrusts. “Mmmh, Law”, I tried to mumble in between his fingers over my mouth, burying into my cheeks. “Shh, darling…” he stabbed me even harder. “people on the plane will hear us..” another strong plunge and his perverted look in the mirror.

“Come here”, he said and without taking his hand over my mouth, he let himself fall over the toilet. I landed over his lap, still being penetrated. “mmh f-uck…” I maffled.

He passed his arm around my waist, holding me tight as I started jumping and fidgeting over him. The exquisite motion resulting from our movements mixed with a little bit of turbulence, made us quickly reach climax. If it wasn’t for Law closing my mouth I would had moaned so loud when I came, everybody would had heard me. Law followed, filling me up. I remained still, even enjoying how little drops of his love juice dripped from me. “I love you, do you know that?”, he said brushing his fingers on my hair, while we recovered from ecstasy. “I love you too, Law”, I said resting the back of my head over his chest.

We rapidly arranged and planned on leaving the bathroom in turns. Law got out first, and I did the same two minutes after.

“I’m never getting bored with you, huh?” I said once I sat in my place. “I hope you don’t”, he said. We looked at each other with complicity and giggled.

Our laughs were interrupted by the voice of the captain through the speakers announcing our imminent arrival at Incheon airport. I placed my head over Law’s shoulder while he caressed my cheek. I knew he was thinking the same as me, once we got to Seoul we will have to part to our respective houses.

Outside the airport, Rosinante was waiting for us. He came running to us, tripping and falling in the middle of the street. “Oi, Cora-saaan”, shouted Law while rushing to help him. “I’m ok, Law. It was just an act to make your girlfriend laugh, you know”, he said brushing his clothes. “It wasn’t an act…”, Law replied. I approached them, “Mr. Rosinante are you ok?”, I asked the blond clumsy guy. “Of course, darling!, I’m so happy for you two!, Law! you’ve finally got the girl!!”, he said. Law was about to hide under his sweater, and I laughed, happy.

Soon our friends joined us and after chatting a little we all headed to our houses. Rosinante took Vivi and I home, I kissed Law goodbye before getting out of the car.

“You look sad, baby”, said Vivi while unpacking our stuff. “I am, I got used to being together all day…”, I said with almost teary eyes. “Oh darling, I know that feeling, I’m missing Nams too already. But you’ll get used to it. You all need a little bit of space sometimes”, My best friend comforted me. “Yeah, you are right”, I sighed.

An hour later, Nami came to pick Vivi up, they were going to sleep at Nami’s place that night, they needed to finish something for work or so, I didn’t even know. But I was left alone.

I had a shower, and went to the kitchen.

I was making dinner when a notification popped up on my screen. “@DrHeartSteeler> What’s for dinner, babe?”. “@DrSunflower> I’m making pasta, what about you?”, I texted him back, innocently thinking he just wanted to chat. “@DrHeartSteeler> Good, I think pasta goes well with red wine”. “@DrSunflower> Law…?” @DrHeartSteeler> I’m outside, dumbass. Open the door”.

I ran to the hall and saw from the window that Law was standing outside, with some bags in his hands. I opened quickly and as he entered I hugged him and kissed him everywhere.

“I missed you, I know it’s been a couple of hours, but I can’t be without you…”, he said. “I missed you too”, I said with a pouty face…

One year after…

“Congratulations Doctors from class 2022!” announced the Rector of our university on the microphone. Chopper and I had finally graduated. Our friends were greeting us, proud to have more doctors on the group. Vivi ran to me and hugged me, “I’m so proud of my best friend! Congrats doc!!”. “Thank you, baby!!”.

Law waited for Vivi to let go of me, with a bouquet full of daisies and sunflowers, similar to the one I bought when we met. “Dr Trafalgar”, I said, smiling at him. “Dr. Y/n. Congratulations baby, I love you.”, he said and hugged me by my waist. “I love you too, darling. Thanks!”.

Both of our families and friends went for dinner and celebrated our degrees. After dinner, Law and I drove home. We had moved in together to a flat near the hospital. He turned out to be an amazing surgeon, so he is part of the permanent staff of doctors of Dr. Marco. He chose cardiac surgery as main specialty, so he is in training in that area.

Nami and Vivi got married six months after we came back from the trip. Sanji and Zoro finally made their relationship public. They still fight, but they love each other. Luckily everybody was happy, slowly making their dreams come true.

“Oh my god I’m so tired, I hate using high heels”, I said as I entered our apartment and threw my shoes in the middle of the living room. Law laughed at me, while both of us collapsed on the couch.

Suddenly, my phone rang. I saw “Lami” on the screen, it was a video call so I picked up as fast as I could. “Congratulation doctor!!!”, she screamed on the other side of the screen as fast as I said hello. “Thank you Lami!!”, I said while Law and I waved our hands. “Congrats!!” said Penguin who appeared behind Lami in their home. “We have something to tell you!...” She raised her hand and showed a brilliant engagement ring, and continued “I’m getting married!!! Y/n I want you to be one of my bridesmaids. Penguin has sent the invitation to Law!”. “Oh my God, Lami!!! congraaats!! Of course, I’m going to be your bridesmaid!!” I say excited, Law congratulated them too with some tears in his eyes. Knowing his little sister was going to get married, probably had him moved to tears.

The weeks passed by pretty fast, and we were ready once again to board our flight to Jeju where the wedding was taking place. Law booked the same seats we had a year ago on that life changing trip. “Do you remember?”, he said. “I do, I’ll always remember it…”, I said, gave a kiss on his cheek, and placed my head over his shoulder, like I always do.

Law and I arrived at Jeju a few days prior to the ceremony and rented a pretty apartment, in front of the beach, near Lami’s house, so that we could help her with the last preparations of the wedding. They chose to celebrate an intimate party at the Grand Hyatt Hotel of the island, on a private beach the hotel had.

Finally, the big day came, I left the flat earlier that morning, kissed Law goodbye and drove to pick the bride to be. We headed to the hotel where an army of hairdressers, makeup artists and stylists awaited us.

We had a delightful breakfast, full of pancakes, fruits, specially the sweet delicious Jeju tangerines, bacon, juices.

After the amazing breakfast Lami gave me a little box with a special pendant for me to wear with my flowy yellow dress. “I’m so happy I have a sister like you, Y/n. You are one of my best friends, for sure. I mean you are like family, but I hope Law will soon make it official…”. A million butterflies flew on my stomach, and I just giggled. Of course, I had thought about us getting married someday, but never made my mind of it being a possibility sooner.

After having a few mimosas, and our nails, hair and makeup fully done, I helped my sister-in-law to dress. She looked like a princess with that white beautiful wedding dress. I was so happy for her, and wonder if I’d look good wearing one.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door. “Little princess, are you ready?”. I heard Law’s voice from outside the room. I went and opened the door. He was wearing a black suit, with a red tie. He looked so formal, so much like a groom… “Hi babe, Lami is ready, come inside”. “Thank you darling, you look stunning. Love you”. Said Law, caressing my cheek.

I let them have their brother and sister moment and I went straight to the party, where Rosinante and Doflamingo were already at the reception, so I met with them. Corasan was wearing a dark blue suit, and Doffy a pink one. They were always true to their favourite colors, for sure.

The time of the ceremony came and everybody took their designated places. Penguin was waiting on the altar. Next to him, Bepo and Shachi, Law and Penguin best friends, were standing there as his best men. I was Lami’s bridesmaid, so I joined them.

Lami had chosen a different music for her entrance, she didn’t want the typical “wedding march”. Instead, “Peach” from IU started playing. Law guided Lami to the altar to that sweet melody. I tried not to cry, but I failed. She looked so pretty, so magical. Her brother, my Law, my baby… he looked magical, too, almost like a prince.

After they exchanged their vows, and legally became Mr. and Mrs., the party started. Even Law was so happy he danced the whole afternoon. We took pictures, ate a gourmet fine selection of dishes and had fun.

The moment of the bouquet tossing arrived. All of the single young ladies, including me, got ready to catch it. Lami threw it, and the cute pink and white sakura flower bouquet landed flawlessly and without me even trying to catch it, over me.

I widened my eyes, as my sister-in-Law approached me celebrating the catch. “Oh, hell yeah!!, bro you know what this means, right??” Lami said, pointing to Law who was smiling. I thought he wouldn’t be happy, but he was, and that warmed my soul.

The party was coming to its end. The sun was setting over the sea and the newlyweds had already left the party in order to board the plane for their honeymoon.

“Babe, I have a surprise for you. Let’s go”, said Law, brushing my hair off my shoulders. “You do??”, I said excited.

We left the party after saying goodbye to everybody, and Law began to drive. “Funny that they gave us the same car as last year, huh?”, I told Law, giggling. “Heh, It wasn’t a coincidence. I chose it”, he said, winking an eye at me.

We finally arrived somewhere I knew well, the lighthouse where we let our most lustful desires run free for the very first time. This time, even the wooden path over the sand had a trail of little candles on each side. “Law, oh God, this is so pretty!! thank you!”, I said jumping next to him. “Just wait, there is even more”, he said, a little embarrassed.

We got to the door of the beacon. I saw how Law had lost the smile on his face, and now he seemed nervous, anxious. I thought it was because he thought I wouldn’t like the surprise.

When he opened the door, the decoration was even more beautiful than the first time. This time the place had been remodeled so that there was a cute bathroom, and even a bed. I entered first, excited, contemplating the new image the place had. “Law!, I love it!!!”, I said and turned around to hug him.

I had to lower my sight, because Law was kneeling down, showing me a ring. “WHAT? ARE YOU FOR REAL?”, I screamed. “Uhum… Y/n-ya, would you like to be my wife?” he asked, all shy. “Of course, I want to be Mrs. Trafalgar!”. I accepted, he put the ring on my finger and hugged for a long, long time ♥

The End ♥

[heroofpenamstan]

—OC PROFILES: JOANNE & MICHAEL

tagged by the lovelies: @shallow-gravy​, @shellibisshe​, @belorage​, @honeysides​, @strafethesesinners​, @faithchel​, @blissfulalchemist​! thank you, dears! x since i’m tragically late to the party as per usual, not going to be tagging anyone since i assume most of my mutuals have done it, but if you want to go right ahead and tag me too so i can see! :”)) also, fair warning: 80% of the questions i answered at ungodly hours overmedicated on paracetamol and it shows because re-reading this in the morning was a Yikes

GENERAL

name: joanne burton alias(es): jo, annie ( mike exclusive ), burton, dep, jr. deputy, rook, traitor, sinner, wrath/pain in the ass ( john exclusive ), rabbit ( jacob exclusive ), heinous fucking bitch—( also john exclusive ), black widow ( new dawn au ) gender: cis. female age: 29 birth: 30th october, 1988 place of birth: meridian, idaho spoken languages: english; may or may not recite some hebrew lines over the holidays sexual preference: bisexual occupation(s): junior deputy of hope county, montana/menace to all cultists everywhere ( in a certain radius of said hope county, montana, anyway )

APPEARANCE

eye colour: brown hair colour: black height: 157cm ( 5′2 ), or approximately 7′11 when balancing on michael’s shoulders to peer inside john’s windows scars: split right eyebrow ( thanks, jake ), minor cuts and incorrectly healed bruises and gashes, scarred bullet wound on left hip ( you’re welcome, jake )

FAVOURITE

colour: orange or yellow or cyan, or whatever is more stupidly eye-catching and not at all fit for her current environment song: i’ve been thinking by handsome boy modeling school food: various stir-fries, fruits and protein ( or anything that she claims to be “healthy” when, truly, bitch is one step away from living off of instant noodles and canned pineapple and cigarette buds from dutch’s stash ) drink: beerherbal teas and infusions

HAVE THEY

passed university: no, but passing the police academy was already a pleasant enough surprise for her had sex: today? no. two weeks ago? probably had sex in public: probably said two weeks ago gotten pregnant/ someone else pregnant: yes, but we don’t talk about it kissed a boy: yes ( derogatory ) kissed a girl: yes ( affectionate ) gotten tattoos: yes, loads: most were practice scribbles for her ex-girlfriend, and the only true meaningful one she possesses is lydia, scrawled into her pinky in remembrance. otherwise, john seed do not even engage with that rusty ass tattoo gun— gotten piercings: yes, loads multiplied; if there’s a place for a piercing in her ears, she has them. also, an old septum piercing she hasn’t worn in a hot second been in love: yes, loads squared ( girl rents out her heart on the weekdays and cries about the scratches she notices on saturday, but still repeats it all over again come monday; falling in love for her is easy, but actually loving someone and getting over her self-loathing to do so is a whole different ball game ) stayed up for more than 24 hours: she’s probably on hour 31 as we speak ( someone knock her out pls )

ARE THEY

a virgin: whitehorse has heard enough horror stories in the break room between her and joey to last him a lifetime a cuddler: closeted cuddler, yes a kisser: most definitely; woman has to play up her natural assets scared easily: her response time is too lagged for that jealous easily: depends; she’s more jealous of what she should have/could have/would have had in a general sense than being jealous of a particular person or a thing trustworthy: in her own way, yes dominant: disgustingly so submissive: not in this lifetime in love: very much so single: very much so part 2

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: yes, but it’s more by means of unintentional yet severe substance abuse thought of suicide: not as often as one would assume; joanne has a very strong sense of self-preservation, but tends to run from her bleak reality by means of one harmful way or the other attempted suicide: once or twice during her lowest points in life wanted to kill someone: on the daily have/had a job: girl had juggled three part-time jobs; there is nothing she fears anymore have any fears: ( see above ) to fall back into old bad habits, loss of control, death, failure, a bad future, poverty, being abandoned and forgotten, long stays at a hospital, the judges, the bliss, the power of john’s hair gel

FAMILY

sibling(s): micah burton ( older brother ) parent(s): abigail burton née belman ( mother ); jim burton ( father ) children: asher seed ( daughter in new dawn au ) significant other: jacob seed ( circumstantial lover/”could do without” mentor/#prisonwife #prisonhusband #imkidding #kinda ) pets: boomer for the cuddles, cheesecake for the throttles ( bitch naturally attracts the judges but will forget her dog 101 and run away like what does she think will happen then?? )

GENERAL

name: michael scott-hughes alias(es): mike, mikey, mickey ( mary may exlusive ), mike the bike/fall’s end’s bicycle, resistance’s poster boy, manwhore, cassanova, the archangel ( joseph exclusive ), the antichrist ( also joseph exclusive ), war dog, hughes boy ( fairgrave exclusive ) gender: cis. male age: 30 birth: 6th july, 1988 place of birth: fall’s end, montana spoken languages: english, russian, basic chinese mandarin and turkish sexual preference: pansexual occupation(s): residential shady, shady man ( international arm’s dealer, most recently demoted to local resistance leader and occasional general goods store co-owner )

APPEARANCE

eye colour: green hair colour: brown height: 181cm ( 5′11 ), and 6ft on tinder jkjk man’s confident enough to not grasp for that extra inch, unlike someone ( john ) scars: heavily burnt left hand ( from trying to fish out his ex girlfriend’s boiling corpse r.i.p. to that steaming puss— ), gash on his right temple, nicely healed gun wound on left shoulder, not so nicely healed amputated right hand ( man’s not having the best time in my canon, is he ), various incorrectly healed cuts and bruises

FAVOURITE

colour: green and rustics song: wild world by yusuf/cat stevens food: unlike the faker above, michael actually likes to cook and eat healthy meals, so anything from salads to veggies to oatmeal to soups will do ( and meat; man’s been a vegetarian for a grand total of 4 days in his entire life ( or 14, if you count the time he got abducted to john’s bunker womp )) drink: sugary drinkswhiskey, fresh juices, “water can be so, so sexy, annie—”

HAVE THEY

passed university: no, though michael really busted his ass to self-educate on subjects that will be beneficial to his line of work had sex: we stopped keeping tabs and numbers nearly ten years ago had sex in public: we stopped blinking at these types of shenanigans nearly ten years ago too gotten pregnant/ someone else pregnant: yes? no? maybe? ( mike’s too afraid to even think about it, but hopes he hasn’t fathered any babies any time soon ) kissed a boy: yes ( affectionate ) kissed a girl: yes ( affectionate² ) gotten tattoos: yes: the sword of damocles on his left inner forearm, intertwined snakes running across his right ribs, a tiny smiley face on his ass lord save him gotten piercings: yes, and everyone hated his attempt to revive the 90s with his lil earring like c’mon you already have a reputation of being a sleaze— been in love: yes, but surprisingly not as many times as one may think ( truthfully, three times: mary may, lana, joanne mary may again ) stayed up for more than 24 hours: sometimes it just cannot be helped

ARE THEY

a virgin: maybe in a past life as an amoeba a cuddler: yes ( try to escape his hold during a summer night i’ll give you 5 bucks if you can break the deadlock ) a kisser: he just exists to smooch at this point scared easily: truthfully, he’s quite desensitized as is, so it’s really hard to truly rock him jealous easily: no; though he might get a bit petty and bitter if someone mentions merle and mary may becuase, like, c’mon, mary—merle briggs? trustworthy: one of his better traits, but past events have shown that boy tends to lose some of his morals for love dominant: yes submissive: yes part 2 man will accommodate and switch it up in love: often single: loosely, often

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: michael has bad mental health trips stemming from having a lot of insecurities as a child; these may evolve into bad habits and pure recklessness on his part to prove his worth thought of suicide: these thoughts don’t come often, but when they do, it’s harder for him than most to shake them off and recover attempted suicide: once, during the boiling pit incident wanted to kill someone: yes, but it comes more from need than want usually have/had a job: yes, though no retail until he was 30 and stuck providing hope county with slugs and bullets have any fears: loneliness, rejection, abandonment, repercussions and consequences, not being good enough, powerlessness, loss, the angel pit, the process of dying

FAMILY

sibling(s): none, but: jackson hughes ( uncle ) parent(s): jessica hughes née scott ( mother ), david hughes ( father ) girl i have his whole family tree drawn up like you wouldn’t believe children: andrew hughes ( son in new dawn au and maybe canon ) significant other: mary may fairgrave ( childhood sweetheart/awkward ex/once in a rare cosmic event fuck buddy/volatile lovers ) pets: peaches loves him she doesn’t; she just wants to chew on his hair

[1-800-imagine]

spooky movie hcs

yachi x reader, bokuto x reader, goshiki x reader, aran x reader

✎ warnings: scary movies and jump scares, but nothing explicit.

✎ inside scoop: happy halloween folks!! let’s wrap up the spooky season with some spooky movie headcannons 🎃 i hope everybody had a fun and safe halloween this year!!

✎ disclaimer: please also note that in yachi’s headcannon (and a little bit of bokuto’s) i do allude to henry selick’s coraline and other spooky films, which are obviously not of my work. 

YACHI HITOKA:

i don’t see yachi as much of a horror movie goer 

it’s the paranoia and the overactive imagination.

in my opinion, the most horror you’d watch with yachi would be tim burton i don’t like him as a person but nightmare before christmas slaps hard or other claymation films.

however, even the characters like other mother can be terrifying

i mean, because they are.

although movie nights weren’t something routine between you and yachi, it was definitely something you could get some getting used to. this time around, yachi went all out for the festivities -- fun treats and pretty decorations arbitrarily placed along the living room. 

the two of you are quick to settle into your mini marathon of movies, and you guys have grown quite comfortable with the first film of your selection. however, you may have spoken a little too soon. as you and yachi watch the once “normal” looking woman with button eyes transform into a creature with spider-like features, things begin to roll downhill. 

yachi swiftly flips herself over so she could face you, instead of the screen. you pull her closer to yourself as she pulls the fuzzy blanket over her eyes. both of you  are enveloped in a sense of warmth and comfort -- contrasting the rather unpleasantness on the screen. 

you watch as the creature beyond imagination is locked behind the portal doors. only then do you proceed to shift your gaze back down to yachi, who’s still hidden under her makeshift shield. “it’s over,” you notify her. the blonde uncovers herself from under the blanket. “are you sure?” she interrogates. “would i ever lie to you?” your rhetorical question assures yachi that everything’s going to be alright.  

GOSHIKI TSUTOMU:

so here’s the thing about goshiki: he may play the uninterested, “this doesn’t scare me” card, but in reality he’s truly terrified

if you’re the type to get scared watching horror films then he’ll do his best to comfort you

but that plan doesn’t get him very far

and it’s actually quite easy to tell that he’s scared too 

as you grow more tired of watching horror films, you begin rest your head on top of goshiki’s chest -- this way you’re able to get a good earshot of his heart rate. though his face may look all stoic, the fast pace of his heartbeat is a dead giveaway that the male is in fact quite scared. 

“you’re not scared are you?” you tease, a smirk slowly appearing across your face. “n-no,” he confidently responds, “of course not.” the previous quivering tells you otherwise. 

“mhm,” you shrug, “sure.” your somewhat sarcastic words earn a rather confused response from goshiki. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he queries. “oh nothing,” you suppose, “just the fact that you’re not scared of spooky movies.” 

a small pause overwhelms him -- it’s even more suspenseful than the film being played in the background. “you’re terrified” you finish your thought. even though the two of you were the only ones occupying the room, goshiki shushes you, “i am not scared,” he denies. “it’s okay ‘tomu,” you assure, “because we can be scared together.”

BOKUTO KOUTAROU:

much like yachi, bokuto definitely isn’t a horror guy either

and don’t get me wrong here, but bo is also one to be scared watching tim burton movies i mean there are quite a few scenes that still give me nightmares

especially during “jump” scares

through majority of the movie, he’ll be calmer? but he’s still clinging on to you for dear life

and i touched on this briefly, but the jump scares with him are very chaotic

the ominous creaking of wooden floors plays over what was once “comfortable” silence. as footsteps grow louder and louder, you can feel bokuto clinging onto your side tighter and tighter.

now, bokuto can get quite clingy from time to time; however, it has never reached a point nearly like this one. this time around, you can barely maneuver around in the male’s grasp -- stuck in whatever position you chose to lounge in.

the footsteps continue to race forward, and suddenly an arbitrary figure pops onto the screen. a loud yelp escapes bokuto’s lips. as the male jumps up from his seat up off the couch, yellow and white popcorn kernels fly through the air with him. meanwhile, you do your best to remain calm and shield yourself from all the airborne buttery snacks.

grey and black spikes peak up from behind the couch. “psst. (y/n),” bokuto innocently whispers, “is it over?” you respond with a small nod of your head, followed by an even smaller giggle. the once terrified facial expression that painted the male’s face morphs into a pout. “that wasn’t funny (y/n),” he sulks.

ARAN OJIRO:

supposedly aran is quite the patron of older films like this a canonical thing and i’m honestly living for it.

that being said, i think he’d really enjoy watching some of horror classics

i actually see him as the type to really enjoying these films for their mastery in being so realistic i’m sorry my inner film nerd is starting to show 

and sometimes aran may even get too wrapped up in watching a movie

you look up at aran, whose gaze is continued to be locked onto the screen. he’s so focused on what’s playing on the screen -- baring a similar expression to when he plays volleyball. trying not to disturb his viewing, you simply just return your stare back onto the illuminated screen. 

a mysterious figure drops from the top of the frame -- completely out of nowhere. it was a basic jump scare, yet it had you frightened. you look back up at aran for comfort, only to see his eyes still fastened onto the film. he’s so entranced -- it’s enlightening, so you let out a chuckle. 

the male finally looks down to you, at his side. “what’s so funny?” he whispers. his once focused expression shifts into something more confused. “it’s just that,” you answer, “you’re so entranced by the movie -- it’s cute.” an uncomfortable silence drapes over the two of you; though, it’s nothing to worry about as it is followed by a familiar chuckle. 

once more your gaze shifts up to aran, but this time there’s a luminous smile gracing his face -- a smile brighter than the screen his eyes are seemingly glued to. 

[bracefacefreak]

So I just finished the first fic I have written in AGES and the first thing I’ve ever written for TMA, so I thought I’d post it here. 

It’s an alternate take on S3 from about MAG 98 in which Nikola kidnaps Martin, not Jon. Basically very angsty with some realisation of feelings and implied canon-typical violence because I like to make my boys suffer apparently. May write more if I feel like it but for now this is just a peek at my idea. 

CW: implied violence, knife violence, strongly implied graphic violence, implied blood, implied skinning, captivity and kidnapping, restraints, stalking. 

I cut you a piece of me 

also available on ao3 

“Martin? Tim?”

Jon pokes his head out of his office, tired eyes squinting through murky lenses to try and make out anything moving amongst the shelves and teetering boxes. A chill creeps up his spine, the sensation akin to the slow tickle of spider’s legs over his skin. It makes his stomach turn; the sour taste of bile rises at the back of his throat. A light flickers somewhere on the other side of the archives. It is brief, likely nothing more than some dodgy wiring - or a plastic body passing in front of a bulb. Jon bites down, catching his tongue between his teeth.

His fingers twist in the wool of the cardigan he wears, tugging at the well-worn fibres as if they are some sort of lifeline. The garment is too big on him, the fabric spilling over his shoulders and bunching in thick folds around his wrists. He had found it shoved under a shelving unit in document storage, the crumpled, butter-yellow lump too inviting to ignore. It has quickly become a comfort for him during long nights in his office poring over statements, something soft and warm to counteract the increasingly dark world he finds himself inhabiting. He pulls it tight around him, but finds today it offers little more than a thin veneer of safety.

CLUNK.

He starts.

His eyes flick towards the stacks to his left, scouring the shadows that rest heavily between the shelves. The noise comes again, more drawn out this time and followed by a series of metallic taps. It doesn’t take much imagination to hear the snap of huge, mechanical jaws in the rhythmic sound.

Jon swallows thickly.

“Martin? I-is that you?”

The hollow clang comes again; this time Jon is able to trace it to somewhere above. Lifting his eyes, he half-expects to see a grinning plastic face staring down at him from the highest shelves. Instead, he is met by the sight of decrepit pipes, quivering slightly as the ancient heating system struggles against the pervasive chill. His shoulders droop as the pipes rattle in reassurance.

Slowly, he turns back to the original source of his suspicion, staring down the narrow walkway that leads to the assistant’s office and break-room.

Beneath the occasional clang of the heating, the archive is silent, still.

But he could have sworn he’d heard footsteps earlier: the soft shuffle of shoes over carpet and the squeak of the bottom stair that no-one seems bothered enough to fix, despite the numerous emails Jon has sent to maintenance. He had been recording a statement, one from the early 2000s about disappearances from a travelling funhouse, when he had heard it. He was certain. But then again…He takes a shaking breath; could this just be his rearing its ugly head?

No.

NO.

He was over that.

He knew what he had heard. Jon squares his shoulders, knowing that his small stature and bright yellow cardigan will hardly strike fear into the heart of any evil creature that has managed to get into the Institute. He pulls the pen out of his hair anyway. It will not be much use if it comes to a struggle, but it is better than nothing.

Measured steps lead Jon across the archive floor.

He calls out in a tight voice, rising to shrill at the end.

“Melanie?”

His pulse thuds in his ears.

“Tim? Basira?"

Sweat coats his palms and pools in the well of his clavicle, turning cold and tacky.

“Martin?”

He rounds a corner and is greeted by three empty desks.

Since arriving, Melanie has settled at Sasha’s old desk; it no longer bears its previous look of organised chaos but is strewn with shredded paper, a few crumpled fast-food wrappers, and pages covered in black scribbles that are indecipherable to Jon. It sends a pang of grief through him that echoes around the empty space where Sasha’s memory should be.

Tim’s desk is clear, no work having been done there in months.

And Martin’s is….

Jon frowns.

Next to an empty mug and a collection of pastel fine-liners Martin sometimes uses to make notes, is a cassette tape. It is unmarked, the brand different from any he has seen before in the archive. Jon reaches for it, hesitates, and then snatches it up. He turns it over in his hands, the shape and weight familiar. Something is building beneath his skin, fizzing, crackling, a flurry of static that rises and rises the longer he holds the tape. It calls to him. The white noise is a siren song drawing him in until he is moving towards his office and the tape recorder he keeps on his desk. His hands shake as he pushes the tape into place and snaps the recorder shut. For a moment the world narrows down to the feeling of the play button beneath his finger, its weight as he presses down, the soft whir-like a sigh-as the tape begins to play.

“Hello, my dear archivist.”

The saccharine voice that spews from the tape washes away the frantic desperation that had sent him scurrying to his office like a starving dog. He shivers, the memory of hard plastic hands around his throat making it hard to breathe.

The Eye drinks in this flash of terror, consuming it with abandon.

“It’s so luvely to be able to talk again. I was hoping to see you in person but ….I’m sure we’ll get to that later.”

There’s a tinkling laugh; the sound of fairground chimes, or blood dripping on porcelain.

“I thought now would be a good time to check in about that old skin you’re supposed to be getting for us. Not that I really need to. I am having you followed. It’s not because I don’t trust you but…well, I don’t trust you and I want to be sure that when you find it you don’t do anything silly. It is very powerful after all. I have to say, little archivist, I’m mighty….disappointed….by your lack of progress. It’s been a week now and nothing and I am on a bit of a deadline, you know. The world won’t dance itself new on its own.”

Nikola stops with a breathy gasp.

Jon waits, fingers clenched in the sleeves of his too-big cardigan.

He can make out the creak of plastic, followed by what sounds like a heavy door being opened. He leans in, straining to hear the dull thud of feet on stone. The jaunty melody of carousel music lingers in the background, ever-present and just flat enough to set his teeth on edge.

“Unfortunately for you, that means I need to up the stakes a little. We can’t have you getting complacent, that just won’t do.”

Another grating sound, metal against concrete and then a jumble of muffled grunts, almost as if someone is trying to speak against restraints.

“Do try and keep him quiet.”

Nikola hisses to someone whose response Jon cannot hear.

Something coils in his gut, cold and heavy.

“He spotted one of us outside the Institute one evening, tried to follow us. A rather stupid move if you ask me. You may want to rethink your hiring strategy.”

The mumbling intensifies.

Jon feels sick. His stomach churns, a deep sense that something is very wrong knotting up his insides.

“He seems awfully fond of you, I must say, putting himself in all that danger to try and keep you safe. What on earth did you ever do to deserve such devotion, little archivist?”

He shakes his head, trying to speak around the hard lump in his throat even though he knows Nikola can not hear him.

“P-pl…”

“Would you like to say hello?”

There is a painful ripping sound, then a scraping and a few ragged breaths.

The cold dread in Jon’s gut begins to unfurl, spreading out, freezing him to his chair.

“Jon?”

His heart stutters.

“Jon, p-please….please…d-don’t…”

Martin’s familiar voice, shaking and edged with panic, erupts from the speaker like a scream.

The copper tang of blood spills over his tongue. He looks down, realising he’s been biting his knuckle so hard his skin has split. Even as he watches the blood pool and trickle down his fingers, he feels no pain.

Nikola laughs again, something knife-sharp behind the sweetness.

Jon is cold, so cold, even beneath his tea-scented cardigan. His hands are like ice as he claws at the tape recorder, smearing blood over the plastic casing. He is not sure what he’s trying to do, his thoughts too muddled. He thinks he may be trying to reach through to wherever they are, to wherever Martin is.

“You see archivist, now we have some collateral. So, if you don’t manage to find that ancient relic, well….shall we have a demonstration?”

A strangled whimper is all Jon can manage as he listens to the squeak of plastic fingers, the tearing of fabric, the clear zhing of a blade. His eyes lock onto the tape recorder, transfixed with horror as he hears Martin grunt and then…..

Jon has never heard screaming like that before.

It cuts through him, reverberating down to his bones and settling in his marrow, so deep he will never be rid of it.

At the same time, it drowns him. Each new cry washes over him, relentless, never giving him time to breathe. He is suffocating beneath the sound, helpless and guilt-ridden, hands twitching as if trying to pull himself up for air. He can’t think, can’t speak, can’t breathe – chest too tight, pulse racing. His vision swims, blackness creeping in from the edges as Martin screams and screams and screams.

Jon squeezes his eyes shut, cold tears spilling down his cheeks. He presses his hands over his ears, but no matter how hard he tries he cannot escape it.

It feels like a lifetime before the screaming begins to quiet and an eternity until Nikola speaks again, high and airy.

“Impressive. That was even through a gag. What fun we’re going to have!”

A sob fills the silence, faint and broken. Jon matches it with his own.

Somewhere the Eye swells and glows in gluttonous satisfaction. Jon can feel it preening, brimming over with stolen terror. He shoves it away in disgust.

“Lucky for us there’s plenty of him to use.”

Something slaps wetly. There’s a squelch, like fingers being shoved into dough.

Jon retches.

“This will make a luvely pair of gloves, don’t you think?”

He doubles over, heaving dryly into his wastepaper bin, for once glad he didn’t have lunch. Sweat beads at his hairline, spots dancing in front of his eyes as he gasps around the convulsions of his nauseated body.

“Now now archivist, no point getting upset. The sooner you find us the gorilla skin the more of your assistant there will be left. I wouldn’t wait too long if I were you. Goodbye.”

The voice fades, leaving only panting breaths and pained groans before the recording ends with an abrupt click.

Jon lets it run on while he struggles to find a rhythm to his breathing. The background whir is a comfort, something to dampen the horrific shrieking that still rings in his ears.

Guilt sits heavy on his shoulders, a deadweight. First Sasha and now Martin. How many more people will he fail before the end? Who else will have to suffer because of him? He curls himself up in his chair and tries to consider what he should do, but his thoughts either will not come or fly past too fast to crystalise into an actual plan. Eventually, he gives in to the lingering heaviness of his limbs and the hollowness in his chest and he cries.

---

He isn’t sure how long he sits there.

The tape finally finishes and cuts off with a burst of static and the pop of the play button.

He is sat in silence when Basira finds him, folded up and trying to ignore the screams in his head. Her firm footsteps alert Jon to her presence as he can barely see out of his tear-swollen eyes. Her breathing pauses as she takes a moment to assess the situation.

Jon can picture the scene clearly: he sits, knees to his chest, hands tangled in his greying hair. The tape recorder perches haphazardly on the edge of his desk, smeared with blood that has dried a rich, rust colour. There are gouges in the surface of his desk and matching splinters beneath his fingernails.

“Jon?”

He thrusts out an arm, knocking Basira’s hand out of the way. The tape recorder falls to the floor with a crack, the cassette flies out, magnetic tape spooling on the floor. He stares at it for a moment. At least now she cannot….will not….and he does not have to either.

“Jon!?”

Her voice is clipped, hard. There is no room for argument or bullshit, no hint of concern. He would expect nothing less of Basira, and he has always respected her bluntness and the ability to bury her emotions so she can get the job done. As much as he would like to believe he can do the same, he knows it is a lie. Today has just proven that.

“Jon!?”

He opens his mouth to answer but only manages a strangled whine, which devolves into a sob. He takes a shuddering breath before trying again.

“M-“

It hurts. His throat is raw, almost as if he has been the one screaming. He is not entirely sure he hasn’t been. No one would have heard him all the way down here. He thinks Elias meant for it to be that way.

“Ma-“

The name sticks in his throat, coats his tongue with a sour taste, and lodges itself behind his teeth. He can not say it….does not deserve to say it…Nikola’s words repeat in his head, over and over.

What on earth did you ever do to deserve such devotion?

Jon thinks of all the times he has berated Martin, the mornings he has purposefully left his tea undrunk just to spite him, the cold manner he has used to decline every offer of help or comfort. And still, Martin had smiled, had rinsed out his mug and stubbornly left another on his desk made to his exact taste, had even pushed himself to research the Vittery case, almost risking his life just to try and get a good word out of his boss.

Martin, who writes poetry that overflows with tender melancholy. Martin, who had stayed up into the early hours with Jon while he had been staying in the archives, somehow aware that Jon was alone and afraid. Martin, who had persuaded the ECDC to hand over a jar of Prentiss’ ashes so he would feel safe. Martin, who had made it his mission to ensure Jon got at least one hot meal a day. Martin, who had lied on his CV to help his ailing mum. Martin, with his mop of curls and goofy smile and stupid hipster glasses and…oh…Martin....

Jon buries his nose into the yellow wool at his shoulder, inhaling the faded scent of Early Grey and spearmint toothpaste and lavender laundry detergent. It only leaves him feeling emptier.

Nothing, he wants to shout in reply to Nikola’s question, less than nothing!

“JON! What's going on?”

He sniffs, lifting his eyes to stare blankly down at the ruined tape recorder.

Basira’s gaze flicks to the device, before landing back on Jon.

He shivers, licking his parched lips and forcing the words out, voice cracked and tight.

“M-Martin….I-I need to f-find Martin.”

[vivi-the-sky-kid]

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 3

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I'm Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai's Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom's history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King's mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there's not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there's something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 3

Word Count: 2755

Warning(s): Ayin needs a hug :(

-<◇>-

“So I hear you've been working with the butterflies, Resh?”

Resh scoffed as they dressed for the day, slinging their cape over their shoulders with one swift, fluid motion. “You can hardly call it work when the damn creatures don't do anything but avoid me. I never should have agreed to this. I can feel Alef laughing at me from here. And the worst part? They'd know if I wasn't trying. He'd feel it.”

He lowered the pizaine around his head, adjusting the cape once it was settled. Their spear followed next. Then Resh picked up their mask, turning it this way and that in their hands before affixing it to their face. Ayin eyed it, their smile more of a grimace at the sight.

“Why not try without your mask? Butterflies can be rather skittish. Something like that must be quite frightening to them.”

“It's a mask. Why would they be scared of that? I'd expect them to fear my spear more.”

Ayin winced. Butterflies were small and quick. A spear was no threat to them, unless the wielder happened to get very, very lucky. On the other hand, a glint of light off that mask's diamond-shaped crest would be more than enough to spook them, especially when it was attached to such a tall figure. But if Resh wouldn't listen to reason...

“It was merely a suggestion...”

They quietly left and went to the central chamber, where the pots of collected light were taken before being shipped out. While pots made it far easier to send light to places like Hidden Forest and the Golden Land, it also simulated the same conditions that allowed butterflies to spontaneously spawn, and so time was of the essence when it came to these shipments.

They wondered if Resh remembered that. It had been so long ago, but Ayin could still recall with great clarity the wide-eyed awe on both Resh and Alef's faces when they were taught about the butterflies and the pots.

A better time, to be sure. Before the Trials. Before the Kingdom. Before all this nonsense with Dark Matter.

Before their growing sleepiness meant that more and more shipments were too late to be useful.

Ayin shook their head and held out a finger. In mere moments, a butterfly flew in and landed, glowing a vibrant magenta as it shared its light with the Elder. They brought it close to their face and whispered, then gently sent it on its way.

Maybe that would help matters.

-<◇>-

Sneaking out of Kumibir's house in the wee hours of the morning was not something Tav ever expected to do; then again, neither was trying to convince a government official to care about light creatures. Despite this, they somehow managed to get not only themself, but the spare light staff and some food, out without detection. It was easier than dealing with eir smug looks over breakfast. They could eat somewhere private and peaceful before dealing with the inevitable. Somewhere like Bird's Nest.

Yes, Bird's Nest was perfect.

As she rounded the hill leading to the nearest dock, two people came into view. One was immediately recognizable as the King's Will. The other was a spirit who acted as the grandparent of everyone in this village. While Tav had never spoken with them, seeing as they were typically away tending to the cattle of the Prairie, they had heard much and more about their charming ways from Kumibir. That included their tendency to ensure everyone around them was well-fed.

Apparently, they did not stop at locals.

“...been feeding you in Eden? You're so gaunt! A soldier like you needs to eat plenty more if you're gonna be protecting our people, doncha know?” the spirit said, lightly bopping their hand against the Will's chest.

“Believe me, I am getting enough nourishment to keep me active. There is no need for concern,” came his strained reply.

Tav snickered and walked closer. As they approached, they called out, “Good morning!” grinning with vengeful delight. The Will moved towards her hastily and fell into step beside her.

“There you are, my dear. I've been waiting for you,” they said, moving to wrap an arm around their shoulders. The gesture caught the cowherd's attention, and they turned their stern gaze on Tav.

“Are you this soldier's partner?”

She glanced up at the Will, who shot her a pointed look, then shrugged. “More or less...”

“Then you better make sure they get fed! Whatever they're feeding 'em up in Eden, it's not enough! Look at 'em! Why, I oughta march up there myself and tell your commander off for not taking care of their troops...”

Tav held back a sigh and gave them a reassuring smile. “I'll keep them fed, don't you worry.”

“Good! That's what I like to hear!” With that, they nodded and left, muttering under their breath.

As they waved the spirit farewell, Tav eyed the Will's gray skin out of the corner of their eye. "They're right, you know. You don't exactly look the picture of health."

"Why, are you worried about me, my dear? How sweet."

Any concern they had—which was none! No concern here—melted away at the smug tone in the Will's voice. Tav scowled and folded their arms in front of them. "No, I would just prefer to not have you drop dead on me, darling. That's all."

It would be hard to explain a government official dying during what should have been a peaceful trip. That was all. That was the only reason she cared—not that she did. The Will was their enemy right now, and enemies didn't deserve any concern.

"You have nothing to worry about on that front. I'll get plenty of nourishment, I assure you," he said, waving a hand carelessly through the air.

Tav raised one eyebrow and rested a hand on their hip. "And what exactly are you going to eat? Grass? Air? Sunlight?"

The Will twitched and drew their cape closer about their body at that last suggestion. He turned away, avoiding Tav's sharp gaze, before letting out a sigh. "If you really must know, all I need to survive is heat. While I can eat food, it is not necessary for me."

"Really?" she hummed curiously, before shaking her head and turning away. Now was not the time to get distracted by scientific pursuits. They needed to focus. The light creatures were counting on them.

"Come on. The butterflies don't have all day."

-<◇>-

Whether today was better or worse, Tav couldn't say. On the one hand, the butterflies were willing to go closer to the Will. On the other hand, they would still shy away from him once they got too close. Quite frankly, no matter how cute the butterflies were, if they had to spend one more day in these meadows, they might scream.

And yet, just when they were truly contemplating giving up...

“You could try removing that mask. The butterflies get skittish around so much cold metal,” a soft voice piped up. The two of them turned away from their unsuccessful attempts to get a butterfly near the Will and saw a plump spirit in a yellow cape approach from the butterfly sphere. At the Will's suspicious glare, they wrung their hands. “They prefer warmer materials, like flowers or sunsteel. I'm afraid the cold metal of your mask isn't very pleasant to them.”

“And you are...?”

“Ah, my name is Degamuc, but my friends like to call me the 'butterfly charmer,'” they replied, rubbing the back of their head with a bashful smile. “Elder Ayin has entrusted me with caring for the butterflies here, and I couldn't help but notice you two were having trouble with the little ones. You could always try taking my advice.”

The Will huffed a sigh, and they flinched.

“It was just a suggestion, though...” they said, voice falling.

The Will stiffened and turned away. They stayed that way for a few moments, then, with another sigh, reached up and removed their mask. Without anything to hold it back, some of his hair fluttered into his face, almost like a replacement for the mask. Still, it wasn't enough to hide that they looked... rather nice. Their square jaw contrasted well with their hair, and if it weren't for the scowl and unsettling gray skin, she'd almost say they were handsome.

Almost.

-<◇>-

Tav had been staring at them for some time now, ever since they removed the mask. Their own mask made it hard to tell what their expression was, but they hadn't blinked in a while. It was rather disconcerting.

He didn't like it.

Resh folded their arms before them, raising an eyebrow in Tav's direction. “What are you gawking at?”

His voice broke through whatever strange thoughts they were having, and they jumped, before crossing their arms stiffly and turning away.

“Y-You look better with the mask on.”

They blinked, the cogs in their head whirling, then looked at Tav in offense. “What is that supposed to me—?”

Just then, a butterfly landed on the tip of Resh's nose, cutting their words off. His eyes crossed trying to focus on it, its pink wings a stark contrast against the blue and white of the sky. A snort nearby startled them ever so slightly. The source? Tav themself, a hand over their mouth to stifle any sounds.

He shot them a glare, and despite the hand, laughter bubbled up from their mouth. Even that butterfly charmer giggled. Despite themself, Resh could feel a blush taking shape above their cheeks; thankfully, it was hidden by the butterfly's magenta wings.

“What's so funny?”

Tav was too busy laughing their head off to answer, but the butterfly charmer had enough of their senses left to say, eyes crinkled with delight, “The butterfly's giving you a little kiss!”

Resh froze. Someone had... said something like that long ago...

Someone once very dear to him...

-<◇>-

Within the Prairie temple, three figures were gathered in the central processing area. Ayin's shrine, its eyes glowing golden and its candles lit, watched benevolently over both the Elder it belonged to and a pair of children—twins, it seemed—alongside them. Ayin gestured the children towards a smaller pot with orange cloth covering its mouth.

“Now, children, these are the pots we use to send light to the Hidden Forest. It's very important that we send these out as soon as we can, because otherwise, butterflies will start to form from the light within. This one has been left a bit too long, you see, so if we open it up...”

With a small puff of flame from their palm, they removed the film covering the mouth of the pot, and a stream of butterflies burst out. The air tinkled like a wind chime as the flurry dissipated, and while most left the temple to seek the sun outside, a few lingered behind. Soft chimes and squeaks echoed in the temple, followed by the twins' soft gasps. Some landed on Ayin's shoulders. Others remained airborne, their golden wings glowing in light from above. One spiraled downwards before landing on the tip of Resh's nose and turning a deep pink.

“Oh, look at that! The butterfly is giving you a little kiss, Resh,” Ayin said, clasping their hands before their chest as their eyes crinkled. Alef snickered, and Resh frowned and wiggled their head, trying to shake off the butterfly. It was a stubborn little thing, however, and at the end, Resh was swaying dizzily and the butterfly was squeaking in triumph—or, perhaps, because it wanted to.

Alef's snickering had shifted to full-blown laughter by then. Thankfully, the butterfly's luminous pink wings hid the blush on Resh's face, but they couldn't hide the way their skin glowed where the butterfly made contact.

It certainly hadn't escaped Ayin's notice.

Their smile was a little strained this time as they put their hands behind the twins and gently urged them along.

“Come, children. We should take these little ones outside, where they'll be happier.”

“Yes, Ayin,” they said in unison. Together, the three of them, as well as the swarm of butterflies, left the Temple for the inviting sunshine of the Prairie.

-<◇>-

“Resh? Are you okay?”

The unfamiliar tone to Tav's voice brought Resh back from their reverie. They were holding his mask now. Had he dropped it during his bout of reminiscence? How nice of her to retrieve it for them.

But now there was something else on their face. Something that did not belong there. His movements slow and steady, he carefully guided a finger beneath the butterfly's rhomboid body and lifted it from his face.

“These butterflies... they came from a late shipment of light, correct?” There was no malice in their expression or their voice as they spoke, watching the butterfly slowly move its wings.

“Ah, um, I believe so. Elder Ayin wishes for us to release them when a shipment is rendered unusable, and many make their way here because of the flowers,” Degamuc said, wringing their hands again.

“As I thought... Ayin has always been soft like that,” Resh said. With a gentle flick of their wrist, the butterfly was sent back into the air. Another was quick to take their place, however, and then another. Soon they had a small, squeaking swarm of butterflies perched on their hands and arms.

Degamuc's eyes closed in a smile as they clapped their hands together.

“Well, it seems you two don't need my help anymore. I'll leave you two to your date.”

Tav nodded as they left, and then did a double take. Unfortunately for her, she was too late to protest. Instead, their hand was left suspended, reaching out for the butterfly charmer's receding back, and soon fell back to their side as they slumped forward. Throughout it all, the mask remained clutched firmly in one hand.

Resh couldn't help the grin that formed. So much drama in such a small frame. Where did it come from?

She seemed to sense their amusement, because she turned to look at them with a halfhearted glare. They folded their arms in front of them and said, with a grumble, “What? You got something to say?”

His grin turned mischievous.

“Were you worried for me, my dear?”

They stiffened and turned away. “What? No! I was just... wondering if you hit your head on something. You started acting weird.”

Resh chuckled and shook their head, looking out over the multicolored field. A butterfly drifted past his vision, the faintest sparkle falling from its wings. When they held out a finger, its body briefly turning into a streak of light as it zoomed to the new perch.

“No, no. I merely remembered something from... a long time ago.”

He laughed at you.

A scowl formed on their face, and they shook off the butterfly. He turned to face Tav once more. They eyed him with a suspicious squint, then shrugged, sunlight glinting off the silvery diamond crest of his mask with the motion.

“Well, I'd say we're done for today. I'll see you tomorrow morning, darling,” she said, waving the mask curtly.

“I'll be up bright and early, don't you fret, my dear.” They kept their gaze on their mask, raising an eyebrow. “But for now, may I have my mask back?”

They looked at the mask, blinked like they had forgotten it was in their hand, and then took hold of their chin. The sun crept lower in the sky as they thought it over, before finally saying, “Mm... No.”

Resh did a double take, mouth agape, and they grinned impishly, placing their hands on their hips.

“You won't need it for what we'll be doing tomorrow,” Tav said. They began walking away towards the nearby pier, leaving Resh to stare after them incredulously.

“And what, exactly, will we be doing tomorrow?”

“You'll see~” they sang out, waving jauntily as they left.

Resh grumbled softly. Then, despite themself, felt the corner of their mouth tug upwards.

Very well. If that was how Tav wanted to play, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Ayin blinked. They glanced down at their hands and flexed them, fingers tingling ever so slightly with newfound energy. It was... unfortunately unfamiliar. They couldn't remember the last time they had felt like this.

A butterfly swirled around them and perched delicately on their mask's pot-like frame. Its squeaking cry brought a smile to their face. Their plan had worked.

High above, their constellation twinkled a little brighter, a little more golden.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[shiteatinggrin]

Hi, so this is my contribution to my first jilytober, I wrote some canon fic, it is kinda sad so I guess you could call this angst? I don’t know, I’m not that good at categorizing fic. Anyways, here is a love letter to James Potter from Lily Evans because he just died under her eyes. Wrote this fast, so I can’t vouch for the quality of this. This is almost 3k of Lily being a sap, so enjoy! Find it here on Ao3.

Bastard with a shit eating grin

Do you remember our first kiss? I can still feel the cold air of winter seeping through the walls of Greenhouse Number Three and you and I laughing together. It was not an unusual thing anymore, but some people could have been surprised, because we had had some big feuds over the years, the Dormitories Dashing and Destroying Disagreement, the Inflating Inner Ear Incident, the Flying Fiona Fight and the Severus Snape Saga consisting of the big highlights. However frustrating it was, we always had fun together, didn’t we?

Now we were falling in love dutifully without realising we had always been meant for each other in some way. I was all colors: glorious red hair, pink cheeks, pale green eyes and horrendously yellow socks. You were all teeth: shining smiles, arrogant smirking, belly-laughing in a silent room or grinding them in concentration for the task you were committing to (hyper-focusing on) at the moment.

‘Oi, Evans, can I copy your homework?’ You would say that practically every day.

‘How about a please, Potter? Might do you some good.’ You watched me smear some soil on my neck when I scratched it and said nothing. I discovered it in Transfiguration two hours later. Crazy how we can only remember the smallest details years later and the big things just go right over our heads. I could only ever remember the small details with you, because whatever we said to each other was never important, only the talking to you part was.

‘Oh Lily, dearest flower to my heart that I worship beyond any rainbow, might I please please please see your diligently done homework so that I can rewrite it because, being the idiot that I am, I was off gallivanting with Sirius yesterday instead of being a good student.’ You added pouts and made doe eyes for good measure as if I wouldn’t already have grabbed the moon from the sky’s grubby hands every night if you had asked it.

I would stifle a smile and put some piece of parchment in your extended hand without even looking, sometimes it was the homework if I was feeling generous, if I were more in a creative mood I might give you a stupid doodle or some kind of letter that would say something like: ‘Dear Prongs, you are an asshat. Looking forward to our rounds tonight so I can kick your ass in Gobstones. Now listen to Sprout, will you? Lily’ with a stupid heart over the i that basically meant PS: I love you. Finally, I’d say something like:

‘I would have laughed, but your head might inflate so much you’d have neck pain for a week.’

You let yourself smile then and continued to jest me, hoping to wrench a smile out of the beast (you always did it literally two minutes later, it is funny how easy it is to win when you give yourself such small tasks).

But that day, amazingly, we broke out of our routine.

At night we would always hang out together in the common room with our friends and slowly the people would fizzle out, having gone up to their dormitories and I would stay on the couch with the urge to kiss you with some dumb excuse not to leave on the tip of my tongue. I painted my nails or read some book or talked to you extensively about something I’d learned recently and you would listen with concentrated eyes and a much too easy smile.

Then you would start talking and when you started some story it would never finish, even now you can’t even recall something as simple as Harry’s first smile without going on for five full minutes without stopping. In these nights I would try to look like I wasn’t paying too much attention to you, like I was detached from everything pertaining to your person, but being young and in love doesn’t exactly give you the best skills in subtlety and so you would ask me if I was paying attention and I would blush and you would make some quip about redheads and their skins and everything would go back to normal.

And out of the blue, when I was talking about getting some sugar quills next time we were in Hogsmeade and how difficult the Ancient Runes paper was, you kissed me. Your hands flew to my hair and mine to cup your face and you pressed your body hard against mine. I’d never seen you so hungry for anything before, it seemed like you had been starving for a thousand years before our lips found each other. I had kissed three boys before you, and none of them could compare to the feeling of ecstasy of your mouth against mine. No one will ever compare to James Potter, right? That’s what you used to say in fourth year when you made a particular lucky goal in Quidditch or when you caught the Snitch in mid-air even though you were a Chaser and we were in Potions classf. Is it weird that I miss that?

I don’t think there ever was a time when I didn’t love you, all electric hair and much too quick brain and hundred stupid nicknames that didn’t mean anything unless you explained them in excruciating detail and you would smile too much and talk too loud and walk too fast and I wouldn’t feel so out of place with you because I did the exact same things. Petunia was always prim and proper and I always tried to be like her and please everyone but you taught me how to be myself and how to blossom into my personality without even knowing it. With you I’ve never been too much, I was always just enough.

Everything always came so easy to you, and I’ve always hated you for it. Now I think that I can’t appreciate enough how you could always share that with everyone around you, that incredible luck that could get you out of the worst of predicaments. I guess it all caught up to us today, but I don’t mind now. I’ll love you forever, come what may.

My heart is full of wanted posters of you: dead or alive.

I can’t remember the first time I’ve really noticed you, because you were always in the periphery, doing stupid things and getting in trouble and beaming for no reason at all and the memory of your presence was impossible to shake, but I still remember the first time we really became friends. We were fifteen by the lake and my best friend betrayed me under the glistening sun, the following day I had the worst grade in Transfiguration I’d ever gotten. You found me crying by a window on the fifth floor and apologized a hundred times (which I couldn’t have cared less at the moment), but you still went and talked to McGonagall and she agreed to let me retake the test in the afternoon and offered me a biscuit.

In seventh year, a girl told me that she was so jealous of the fact that I was the only one that could make James Potter change and mature. As if your life revolved around me. I thought of your sick father and the fact that Sirius had appeared on your front door one day and never left your house and with a twinge in my heart thought of the war coming and I couldn’t believe my ears. With all this going on, and she still thought you’d only change for a girl?

I’m not proud of this, but I might have shouted at her and maybe, perhaps I was the one that sent a silencing charm her way, but who could really tell? Not her, because her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.

I wonder if I ever told you that. Probably, because you know everything interesting there is to know about me. You even know the most boring facts about me, because they amuse you just the same. You know I like peonies the best in spite of my name and that my first kiss was with Snape when I was eight, you know that I wiped my mouth right after and didn’t know yet what love was. You know that my favourite band is Hate Potion and that my guilty pleasure is Celestina Warbeck. You know that I wanted to name our son Harry because of a muggle TV show I used to watch with Petunia when I was seven on Saturday mornings and that when I fight my favorite charm is Expelliarmus. You were at my side when I killed my first (and last) Death Eater and that I cried for a week afterward. You comforted me for five hours when Marlene and her entire family were massacred in their own home, the same one where I had spent a good chunk of my summers to avoid Petunia. You know that I only ever paint my toenails blue and that my favorite flavour of ice cream is mint chocolate chip. You know all about my relationship with my sister and how she used to be my best friend and that we used to dance in bathing suits around the sprinkler and fake being witches to make potions out of mud and flowers and how she never forgave when this dream became true for me but not for her. You know all about my failed relationships, with Tuney, Sev and my ex-boyfriend who left me because he didn’t want to be associated with a muggleborn. You know I’m absolute shite at drawing and that I can’t dance to save my life and you laugh at me when I’m drunk and try to follow Peter’s choreography to some dumb song I don’t know. Last year, you helped paint flowers all over my bookcase because I wanted it to be unique and just mine.

When Harry was born, you refused to sleep for two days because he was so cute when he slept against your chest, but you finally fell asleep while cutting onions for dinner and I had to intervene.

One of my favourite things about you is that I have never seen anyone so full of life. You smile like nothing has ever gone wrong in your entire life and you are more loyal than any Hufflepuff I’ve ever seen, you would die for any of us in a heartbeat and we would do the same for you anytime. My love for you is so big I wonder how it even fits in our little house in Godric’s Hollow. You painted our walls burnt orange because you said it reminded you of my hair and I wonder if it is weird to fall in love with you even more over some colour choices. You complete me because as much as you are a complete idiot, you still recommend the best books and are smart enough to plan the best pranks, but too smug to make anyone else take the blame. You had always been my favourite person in the whole universe until Harry arrived, but he is so much like you that it is like meeting you at a much earlier age. He has the same laugh as you, you know?

I cannot believe how brave you are, because traditional courage requires you to go into battle and protect everyone you love like a lioness does her cubs, but you have found the energy to keep going even trapped in this house with an infant without being able to help your friends outside. You go everyday against your most basic instincts and you manage to have so much fun with us, but I see the tired bags under your eyes and the fact that you lose your train of thoughts sometimes and I know that you’re thinking about the war and the security of the boys, I know they are your family and it would kill you if one of them ever fell into battle, yet you never complain, yet you never lose hope. I love you so much my feeble heart can’t contain it all. My love for you is as inevitable as the blue of the sky, as the oxygen in our lungs, as the passage of time, I love you so much that when I see you it is like coming home, your wild hair and round glasses and mischievous eyes and soft voice and much too long limbs and wide chest and calloused hands and smile like an answer to all my problems.

No one has ever made me feel as secure as you and now I know I have to be strong for you, because you are the one that’s fallen, like a marionnette whose strings were cut. The coffee stain on the right arm of your shirt is the last thing I will see of you, or maybe it is a bit of your wild inky hair. I will never be able to look at the night sky the same.

I can hear him in the stairs, and all I can think about is you and Harry this morning, my two favourite people in the world, sat on the carpet and puffs of colour coming out of your wand, your laugh coming out of his mouth, one single tooth poking out, little chubby legs shaking from laughter, the wand you stupidly left on the carpet (the wand you didn’t care wasn’t in your hands because you didn’t care if you died, you just wanted us to live). Your last gift to me was the most precious of all: you gave me the time to say goodbye to Harry.

‘Mama loves you. Dada loves you, Harry.’ That is the only thing I find to say, because it is true and my heart is breaking, I can hear it thundering, collapsing like a dying star, you are dead, I will die, Harry has to live. I cannot withstand the thought.

I have never loved anyone better than the two of you. Apparently I never will, but at least I have known real love, the one that comes from daily life, that never dies because it is kept alive by stupid little things that make us who we are. Crazy how we only remember the little things and the big ones just go right over our heads.

I will remember the smallest things about you, like the little scar in your left eyebrow, the weird placement of your thumb on your wand, the feel of your skin against mine and the way it tanned in the summer while mine just became redder and redder, the sound of your laugh when Sirius said something funny and the way you always pushed your glasses up your nose with your middle finger, the way you sit in any chair like it’s a throne, the way you answered questions in class without raising your hand, the way you held a book open when you were reading it, your last day where you wanted to make pasta and I wanted steak, the way you would mess with your hair not because you thought it would make you look like you just stepped off your broom, but because you were nervous or restless. On your good days it would stand flatter on your head and I had to pass my hand through it because otherwise it just didn’t feel like you. You laughed too much when Sirius decided to read Crime and Punishment to Harry as a bedtime story and your son wouldn’t go to sleep. You would tell him stories of your childhood disguised as muggle magical adventures and I became a knight, Sirius a prince and Snape a dragon. You would call my cat Fiona the ginger cat, as if Fiona wasn’t enough and she needed an extra title. I guess she was royalty after all. You always tried to make me believe that she loved you more than me, even though I’d had her since I was eleven and you once made her fly across the common room just to annoy me.

Do you remember this morning? The last time you ever kissed me? You made me eggs and tea for breakfast and sang some Beatle song for me in the most off-key voice. You stole the bacon from my plate, laughing from across the dinner table. I was so happy because you were in a good mood today, you didn’t seem to feel so trapped and it was Halloween and you were trying to convince me to dress Harry up as a muggle magician, which I thought was the worst joke you’d ever made. You kissed me on the mouth and we settled on a pumpkin costume. Your lips tasted of stolen bacon and orange juice (you’ve never been much of a morning tea person).

I have never loved anyone better, and apparently I never will.

The house is so silent now that you are gone. All I can hear are my own ragged breaths. Harry seems to think this is some kind of game. He is all that we have left now. All that will ever be left of us. To love is to create, right? We have created the most beautiful person in the world, it should be the only thing that counts.

I love you. I could try to make this poetic, the love thing, but I think the most poetic way it can be is on its own. I don’t know any words more powerful than I love you. I love you and you are dead. I love you and I will die soon. I love our son and he will live. Life is as simple as that. I love you and soon we’ll be together again. Miss you already.

[pinkhairedlily]

Yellow Meadows of Happiness

Hi! I made this one-shot into a 12-part series to flesh out the plot and of course, to feed my HitsuHina scenarios.

Original Tumblr post here | AO3 Prologue | This chapter | 2 of 12 

Summary: Childhood memories and the shift that changes it all.

“He looks like I could send him back to the oblivion where he came from with one flick of my finger,” Momo said to her grandmother.

Baba, as she fondly called her, just continued washing the scrawny, beat-up kid in front of her. He had a bulging left eye from where another street kid punched him, and he seemed to miss some of his teeth. His silver hair stood out, but it was littered with dirt she dared not go near. Despite his measly state, the kid glared at her through his swollen eyes. “Momo, a child cannot go back on the streets.”

“I know you have a big heart Baba, but you cannot just pluck a scrawny spiky broomstick from the road and bring him home.” Momo grimaced. She felt sorry for him, but she did not enjoy the fact that she will have to share her only relative to this stranger and a troublemaker, she bet.

The kid was trying to spat back at her, but his mouth was too wounded his words came out incomprehensible. Baba chuckled at this ‘little’ argument, and her soft, gentle hands started applying medical ointment on his face. “My dear Momo. He helped me bring home your favorite fruit. The other kids wanted it and tried to grab it, but he fought them off. See, he respects elders.” Baba gave her a fond smile.

Oh my god, my grandmother is smitten. Momo glanced at the kid again, and he flashed an attempt of a grin. But then she felt suddenly apologetic. The watermelon Baba brought home has a crack, and some of its juices already flowed out. The net bag that was supposed to carry it was tattered and split. She didn’t ask for one, but it was summer, and Baba knew it was her favorite fruit so she traveled to the farm on the opposite of town to get a piece.

“His name is Hitsugaya Toushirou, and he’s two years younger than you.”

And she came back home with a scrawny kid. “A whole dumbass eight years old.”

After several days, Momo learned that he was not only scrawny, he was also snarky. Every time she instructed him to do house chores, he would stick out his (healing) tongue at her and make monkey noises, and she would proceed to hit him with a broomstick that looked like his hair. Baba treated these interactions as her daily form of entertainment. After all, it was a good noise that enveloped a rather lonely house.

Momo lost her parents to a fire accident when she was three. Since then, she started living with her grandmother and treated her as her whole world. She would learn later on that the Hitsugaya kid was an orphan abandoned when he was the same age. She had Baba, he had no one. But she didn’t feel particularly sympathetic when he would just randomly yell, “Bed-wetter Momo!”

They started to notice it when Momo devoured books from the town library. Hitsugaya or Shirou-chan as he hated to be called prodded her open book with a stick while she was reading under the large camphor tree. “Hey bed-wetter Momo, what are you doing?”

She swatted away his stick and kicked his shin. “Reading, broomstick Shirou.”

“You know I hate that name. Stop using it. What is it about?”

“Then stop calling me bed-wetter. I never wet my bed you schmuck. It’s about the evolution of forests, how they bounce back to normal after a fire or a drought. You’ll never understand so go away.”

“Hey.” He continued prodding with the stick. “Teach me how to read.”

It was probably the first time she felt a semblance of pity because reading was close to her heart. She was adept at learning, but they didn’t have the money for formal schooling so she took what she could from the public library, almost religiously worshipping its grounds. Books transported her to worlds, far from the sadness that was always creeping in from her periphery. It was a productive distraction and her safe space she could access anywhere and anytime. Books were her friends and her teachers.

Grumbling, she went inside the house and grabbed some papers. He may not also know how to write. This was the starting point of everything, and the petty fights and aggressive name-calling scaled down to kind banter resembling childhood friendship. The most evident change however was Hitsugaya’s quick capacity to learn. He started accompanying her in libraries, reading more books than she did. Soon, he abandoned fairy tales and fiction and went straight to scientific journals in the reserve section.

Momo joked that he was only pretending to understand so he could one-up her, but he just dismissed her with a scowl. When she joined him in the archives, she saw his brows furrowed over a big book with many numbers and equations. Nature fascinated Momo but never math. That kind of focus Hitsugaya only occurred when he was cutting firewood or catching fish in the nearby riverbank for their dinner.

“Hey Momo, can you lend me your pencil?” he asked without looking up.

“You’re not supposed to write anything on the pages,” Momo refused. She also didn’t have a pencil on her that day. “Whatever is it for, Shirou-chan?” He grew tired of scolding her for calling that nickname some many months ago.

“Well, I think the results for this equation is wrong.” That was when Momo knew he was bound for something greater.

“Why don’t you borrow that book and we’ll solve it on our way home?”

They spent hours hidden among the stalks of yellow daffodils with Momo listening to Hitsugaya’s explanation about the equation’s mistakes. She noticed that he never failed committing to memory what he read even for just a second. The books called it photographic memory. For some time and in this yellow field, she was his student, and she eagerly learned from him. They started on a rough patch and such prejudiced footing, but there they were, lying in the middle of the daffodil meadow no one really owns, giving and taking about the secrets of the world under the glowing halo of the dipping sun.

His small but already rugged hands suddenly reached out towards her, and she inadvertently gasped. He was just brushing the petals from her hair. “Ah Momo, we might get allergies from too much pollen. Let’s go home to Baba.”

And when the afternoons on the yellow meadows weren’t enough, their conversations extended to night escapades atop the hill behind the house where the stars were almost near enough to touch. Momo never expected this kind of happiness, especially from the scrawny kid with an irritable disposition. Well, he was still irritable but not to her, not anymore. She wished this would go on forever.

But of course, that wasn’t possible. Because the world has plans of its own.

Baba was accompanied by a black-haired guy one day. Momo was sure he wasn’t an orphan or a street kid her grandmother took pity on. He was dressed in coordinated tan blazer and khaki pants and had glasses on. He looked like the typical professor she would see in the library and would frequent the reserve section and archives that Hitsugaya loved the most.

“Hitsugaya, this man is Dr. Kuchiki. He wants you to go to the academy.”

Notes: So I’m diverting away from Bleach canon as if it wasn’t obvious already. Just a small, itty bitty change – Hitsugaya’s grandma became Hinamori’s grandma. This is for plot friends, please trust me on this! >.<

NEXT CHAPTER | 3 OF 12 | LAST SUMMER INTO THE BEGINNING

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Editing Highlight - I Can Finally Tak About Therapy Arc (where I Basically Copied Half of the Chapter and  May or May Not Ramble too Much ^^')

Jonah let out another sigh. Winching, he threw his legs over the bed, slightly trembling when his shoeless feet touch the cold floor. His knees were shaking, but he kept walking toward Rosehearts’ bed, gripping the sheet to balance himself. He looked up to the redhead’s face. His eyes were still close, but listening closely, the breathing tempo was a bit off. “Are you awake, Senior Rosehearts?”

Nothing happened for a few seconds and Jonah was about to go back knowing he was wrong, but then Rosehearts let out a groan. Slowly, he opened his blue eyes, blinking slowly at him. “How did you know?” he whispered, voice slightly cracked.

Jonah shrugged. “A lucky guess.” He walked up closer to his head. “How are you feeling? And please be honest.”

Another groan came out of his mouth. “Terrible…” He tried to get up but the pained sound that came out made Jonah move and help him up.

“It’ll pass. I hope,” Jonah chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as he sat beside Rosehearts.

There was silence between them. The air was awkward. Jonah noticed the way Rosehearts kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Did he want to say something? Jonah himself wanted to say something. Maybe he should start first.

Jonah cleared his throat. “Senior Rosehearts. Can I ask something?”

The prefect looked up, a bit surprised but then he nodded. Jonah nodded back. “Is there something you want?”

Rosehearts tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed in confusion. Of course. That was a weird question. Jonah let out a weak chuckle before twisting his body so he was facing the other prefect for more focus. ”I mean… If you have the chance, is there something you really want to do?”

Rosehearts shook his head. “I’m not-”

“It’s okay.” Jonah reached out to hold Rosehearts’s right hand, frowning when the other flinched. “I won’t judge you.”

Rosehearts bit his lips and looked down, his left hand kept playing with his blanket. After a while, which Jonah thought he wouldn’t answer, Rosehearts finally whispered, “I... I really wanted to eat that mont blanc too...”

Jonah smiled. “You should try that. Maybe we can try making those.”

“Was it fun?” There was a small blush on Rosehearts’ cheek and he averted his gaze. “The baking… I mean.”

“It was.” Jonah chuckled. “Deuce had trouble with the piping and you should’ve seen Ace’s face when he nearly drops the hot pan.” Rosehearts looked confused, but that was okay. Jonah was just happy he managed to make him react to something. “Anything else?”

“I... I like white roses, too.”

“Do roses have different colors other than red and white?”

“They have pink, and yellow too. Also, green and orange. Sometimes lavender, novelty, salmon, peach, and cream. I heard that someone is trying to cultivate blue roses. They’re considered to have magical power.”

Jonah whistled. “Wow, that’s a lot.”

Rosehearts nodded. This time he looked up to him. “I once saw the lined them up to make a rainbow rose arc.”

“Must’ve been pretty.”

Rosehearts smiled a little, feeling nostalgic. “It was.”

“Speaking of colors, what color do you think is good on a flamingo?”

“Well, the Laws of the Queen of Heart-”

“No.” Jonah held Rosehearts’ hand tighter. “What do you think is good for the flamingo?”

Rosehearts blinked again in confusion. But then, he looked down again. “Pink. I like the pink flamingos. It’s natural for them.”

Jonah nodded. “One day, you should teach me how to play that croquet game.”

“Trey taught me when we were kids. I had fun playing with him. I want...” Rosehearts gripped his blanket tighter. His voice began to crack. “I always want to play with them more... But, Mama...” He sniffled. “Mama always says not to play too much... If I play too much, I wouldn’t have time to study... And if I don’t study... Then I can’t make my family proud...”

“Why is that?”

Rosehearts whipped his wet eyes with his sleeve, but the tears just kept on flowing. “The... In the Rose Kingdom, women are superior to men... That’s why... Mama always says that I have to be better... I have to be better and better... If not... I’ll be left behind from the other... And I can’t...”

Sobs began to fill the room. Rosehearts didn’t even bother to wipe off the tears that fall down his cheeks. Jonah pulled Rosehearts down, letting his head rested on his lap. He didn’t mind if his pants became wet, Senior Rosehearts needs this. He probably never experienced this. Never had the chance to actually cry.

“You must be tired, huh?” Jonah whispered, running his hand through Rosehearts’ red hair.

“I’m tired...” he whispered back between his sobs and sniffles. “I’m so tired... I want to sleep... I want to play with the other... I just want to talk with more people... I just...” Rosehearts turned his head and looked up to Jonah. “Is there any rule... Is there any rule for me to get rid of this pain...?”

Jonah knew he can’t answer that. Nobody can, not even the Law of the Queen of Heart. “To be honest,” he sighed as he kept brushing Rosehearts’ hair. “I don’t know.”

Rosehearts bit his lips, disappointed by the fact that he would not be able to enjoy all the things he had said. Forever he would follow his mother’s rules and teaching without being able to take a break. He wouldn’t be able to have a moment like this again. Just to speak everything he wants, being comforted by someone who would listen. By the time they were able to leave the infirmary, both of them probably wouldn’t be able to see each other again. After all who would’ve wanted to befriend the Crimson Tyrant?

“I would.”

Rosehearts looked up again, blinking in surprise. Did... Did he say all of that out loud?

Jonah smiled down at him. “You are not the Crimson Tyrant.” His hand stopped brushing Rosehearts’ hair, but slowly help him sit up again. They faced each other, with Jonah’s hand on his cheek. “You just need someone to guide you along the way. I know you’re a good kid, Senior Rosehearts.”

“You’re a good guy, Senior Rosehearts. You just need the perfect guidance. Therefore, Riddle Rosehearts… You are free from any punishment.”

It is him.

Tears came out from Rosehearts’ eyes again, this time wasn’t because of sadness, but relief. Maybe he could... Maybe he could find a way to make up the time he had lost... Maybe he could finally get rid of this aching feeling in his heart... Jonah pulled him into a hug, and he just let him. He wanted to feel the warmth of someone’s hug. He wanted to have a shoulder he could lean on. He wanted to have a comforting hand, running down his hair, erasing all those anxiety away...

He wants to have a dear friend like him...

To premise this, I am not a therapist or a school counselor. I'm just a regular math education college student who barely understands one-way ANOVA. But, I'm always interested in students' problems, more specifically their mental ones. Again, I'm not a therapist, so my knowledge of this and what I wrote above may come out as shallow.

This fic 'Therapy Arc' in the beginning is a way to fill the few days gap between Riddle's overblot and the Revenge Unbirthday Party. It's essentially the calm after the storm where the reader can breathe for a moment, for the character to take a rest, heal their wound, and just reflect their action. If my memory serves correctly, Riddle is the only victim who pours their feeling in the aftermath. Jamil's speech in the aftermath feels like a rant instead and Kalim is the one who actually reflects on his treatments toward Jamil. Azul doesn't say anything and most everyone around him is convincing him that he's better than he thought he is. but I appreciate the small moment in the museum. Leona doesn't even talk, like at all, about his feelings. This is why Riddle's aftermath is my favorite because of that moment of him telling what he wants (a small moment of vulnerability) and his growth after that is satisfying to watch.

Back to the Therapy Arc, it has some influence from the typical visual novel's 'Character Route' where the MC spends time with a potential waifu/husbando, going through their scenario, solving the problems, and eventually become a couple. My fic Therapy Arc is essentially that. A moment for Jonah to get to know more about the victim, giving them some time to rest, and mending the bonds that were ruined before that. In turn, Riddle becomes more open and more expressive, and it doesn't feel out of character because we have a good reason for it. This is why the next four episodes are important. This is why Break & Gosh is written. I just need these kids to take a break and talk about their feelings dammit! 

Also, I'm not trying to change the character, they can still be assholes, but I know they have potential, I just want to explore them. What matters after that is the willingness to change, will they be like Riddle who changes for the better, or like Leona who seems constant but still has that little changes. I just want to see how far I can make them grow. Character development is a major key that I always want to strive for.

This is what I want to try to make my fic a bit different. Personal character interactions for both MC and canon characters, and between canon characters, which is why I have Jonah-Riddle and Trey-Riddle, also Jonah-Leona-Ruggie. Every action will affect them in some ways. And I'm not making this for the sake of shipping. Yes, there are some potential and some are leading to that, but that's never the goal.

In the end TW:OPT is a story about the bonds between these boys. Second chances, forgiveness, growth, and the power of love and friendship. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

Also, Ace screaming in front of Riddle's face just doesn't sit well for me. He still gets his Revenge Unbirthday Party but only after Riddle is calmer.

Also, ALSO! There is a hint of worldbuilding but I won't touch about it yet.

[jaskierswolf]

The Witcher’s Companion pt.3/6

(Other parts on my masterlist/AO3 - TW: Alcohol, mentions of vomiting, and canon-typical gore)

Oxenfurt!

Jaskier felt like he was whole new person in this glorious city. He had a new name, a new home, a new lease of life.

The city was filled with music, and booze, and beautiful people who loved music and booze! Oh for the love of Melitele herself, he was home!

His studies were going well. He excelled at the arts just like he’d expected. His passion for all the beauty in the world had served him well. He had already been a master lute player by the time he’d started classes at the university, and unlike most of his peers he already had a few compositions up his sleeve. His most successful ones were about Geralt.

He sighed wistfully.

He hadn’t seen the witcher since the week they spent training together when he was thirteen. That was three years ago now, but the memories were still fresh in his mind. He’ll admit that Geralt had probably been his first crush, before he really knew what that meant, but now that Jaskier had spent a year at the university learning more about himself and about love, looking back on his time with Geralt was a real eye opener.

He had hoped that Geralt would return again before he headed off to study at Oxenfurt, but he had left home with a heavy heart. He wondered whether Geralt would be able to find him here in the city.

On top of his studies in music he had also been badgering the medical students and professors to show him what they knew. None of them knew anything about witcher potions which had been very disappointing but he did know basic alchemy and he knew how to stitch up some smaller wounds.

It had taken him a while to get that one right. The first time he’d tried on the dead pig he threw up all over the floor, but that had been a long time ago. The skills had also saved his own arse a few times. He did have an unfortunate habit of finding trouble. He’d been kidnapped by bandits once when he’d left the city to stroll through the local woods. He’d ended up with a nasty stab wound in his leg but once he’d finally managed to escape his bonds and get back home, he’d treated the wound himself with only a little help from one of the professors.

The next time he had left the city he didn’t forget his sword and bow. When the bandits attacked he’d been ready and they were left dead, or near dead, in their camp.

Geralt would have been proud of him.

Only Geralt was still nowhere to be found.

He pouted and sipped his drink. “Stupid witcher.” He grumbled.

“Julian!!”

He groaned and hit his head on the table. He was too drunk to deal with Valdo. He just wanted to be left in peace and pine over his witcher by himself.

“Fuck off!” He called back.

“Come on, you noble prick!” Valdo smiled too sweetly at him. “Play that song about that witcher of yours.”

“Not my witcher.” Jaskier grumbled.

“If you play, it’ll make my set sound so much better.” Valdo cackled.

Jaskier grumbled. It took every ounce of his control not to throw his dagger at Valdo’s head. He took a deep breath and plastered his own fake smile on his face.

“The only reason it will make your set better, darling,” He stroked a finger along Valdo’s cheek. “is that you will inevitably steal all my ideas. Now fuck. off.” He poked the wannabe troubadour in the chest and went back to drowning his sorrows.

He was sixteen for Lillit’s sake! He was a fucking grownup. Geralt should have come for him by now.

Valdo didn’t back off. “Julian!” He whined and Jaskier glared at him. The idiot had gone through his records in first year and discovered Jaskier’s real identity, he now refused to use Jaskier’s chosen name. “My sweet, sweet Julian.”

“Fuck off!” Jaskier snapped.

“Such a spoilsport, always with that sword of yours strapped to your waist. Can you even use it? Did your lover, the witcher, give it to you?”

Jaskier saw red and he had his dagger at Valdo’s throat in an instant.  

Geralt had given him the sword on their last day of training. It was gorgeous and it was sharp as a razor. He’d almost killed Master Rhindon the next time they’d trained together. The sword master hadn’t been expecting Jaskier’s newfound skills and Jaskier had easily landed a blow on the man’s arm, nicking an artery. It had only been Jaskier’s quick thinking that had saved the man. He’d pulled off his shirt and made into a bandage, wrapping the wound tightly before calling for a healer. He had been more careful with the sword after that. He stopped using it in training when he was sparring against a partner until he was sure they would be able to defend themselves properly.

“Help me!” Valdo cried helplessly.

Jaskier growled and pushed the man away. “I told you to fuck off!”

Valdo collapsed to the ground, panting heavily and glared up at him. “You little shit. I’ll report you for that!”

“Be my guest.” Jaskier tucked his dagger back into his boot. “And I’ll tell the Chancellor that you’ve been shagging his daughter.”

Valdo gaped. “How did you—”

Jaskier grinned. “I have my sources.”

His sources. The Chancellor’s son, who Jaskier may or may not have also shagged.

But Valdo didn’t need to know that.

“You bastard.” Valdo hissed through gritted teeth.

“Write a song about it.” Jaskier smirked. “You won’t have to steal one of mine for a change!”

Valdo launched at him and they ended up brawling on the tavern floor until they were pulled apart by some local guards and dumped into he street.

“Julian?”

Jaskier gasped and scrambled to his feet. He knew that voice!

“Geralt!” He cried and flung his arms around the witcher, not realising that the man was covered head to toe in monster guts. “Oh fucking hell, shit, Geralt!”

He heard Valdo’s laugh behind him and grinned. Valdo Marx was a lover of finer things, just like he was, only Valdo had no stomach for the rougher things. He spun round and pulled the other bard in training into a hug.

“Isn’t this nice, Valdo?” He cooed.

“Oh gods, I’m going to be sick!” Valdo whined… and then did just that, all over Jaskier’s feet.

“Oi! No. Oh cock!” Jaskier hopped around. “Geralt, help me!”

The witcher was scowling at him but Jaskier saw the faint smile on his lips. “Hmm.”

“Oh fuck off, then. Actually, no, don’t.” He pulled off his boots and threw them into a nearby bush. He hopped bare foot over to the witcher. “Come with me. My dorm is nearby, you need a bath.”

Geralt grunted. “So do you.”

Jaskier put one hand on his hip and tilted his head. “And whose fault is that?” He pointed accusingly at the witcher.

“Yours.” Geralt said flatly.

Jaskier considered that. He had been the one to hug Geralt. “Fine.” He mused. “But you at least owe me a drink!”

“A bath first.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier grinned. “Yes. Right. Yes, follow me!”

Jaskier prattled away as he led Geralt through the streets of Oxenfurt, catching his friend up with the last three years of his life. Geralt hummed and grunted in more or less the right places but didn’t say anything, not offering up any tales of his own. Jaskier didn’t care. He carried on with his monologue quite happily. It was obvious the witcher had had a rough day. Jaskier’s talking was mostly for himself, he didn’t require a response. He easily ignored the stares they received from strangers in the street. Even in Oxenfurt, a city known for its liberalism, witchers weren’t exactly welcome, especially not ones covered in monster guts.

“Sooo…” Jaskier nudged his shoulder against Geralt’s, he was almost as tall as the witcher now, only a few inches shorter. “How have you been?”

Geralt grunted and glared straight ahead.

“That bad huh?” Jaskier sighed. “Well, after a nice long soak you’ll be right as rain!”

“I didn’t come here to find you, Julian.” Geralt snapped.

Oh ho ho. He was definitely a grumpy witcher today. Jaskier couldn’t remember seeing him so grumpy before. He’d always been gentle and caring. Perhaps he was kinder to children and Jaskier was hardly a child anymore.

“It’s Jaskier.” He hummed, feeling slightly dejected.

“What?” Geralt turned to face him with flaming golden eyes.

“My name. I never liked Julian very much, so I thought… university!” He gestured widely to the surrounding city. “No better place to be reborn! I went through a few names. I wanted something sweet, something lyrical and warm like the music I want to bring into the world. Why not flowers? I thought. Everyone likes flowers.”

“I don’t” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier scoffed. “Yes you do. You know this whole ‘I am night itself’ thing you’ve got going on, I’m not buying it.”

Geralt grunted.

“Anyhoo! Flowers, I thought Marigold at first. I wanted a yellow flower.” He didn’t add that the yellow reminded him of Geralt’s eyes. Oh no. That would be ridiculous. “But that was shit. So I tried Dandelion. That was better. Dandelion lasted a few weeks. Then one day I walking through the market and saw a patch of buttercups by the edge of path and that was it. Jaskier was born!” He grinned widely at his old friend.

“Hmm.” Geralt was still scowling but there were signs of a smile there.

“I knew you’d like it.” Jaskier winked.

“I never said that.” Geralt grumbled.

“My dear witcher, you never had to.” Jaskier patted his arm and then grimaced at the blood covering his hand.

Geralt stopped abruptly and stared at him, amber eyes studying him like he was some kind of animal in a cage. Jaskier tilted his head and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the blood off Geralt’s face.

“You’re a mess, Geralt.” He laughed with fond exasperation.

“You’ve changed.” Geralt stated, tilted his head. “You seem… lighter?”

Jaskier put a hand on his hip and tossed his fringe from his eyes. “And you’ve become all cantankerous in your old age.” He teased.

Geralt, to Jaskier’s surprise, laughed. “You sound like Lambert.”

Jaskier stared up at Geralt wide-eyed. The witcher was finally opening up! Oooh this was good.

“Fuck!” Geralt strode off down the road, in the opposite direction to the university.

“No, no, no. Geralt!” Jaskier trotted after him. “Geralt! Wait. You’re going the wrong way!”

“I don’t need a bath.” Geralt grumbled.

“Oh fuck that. Look at you, you brute.” Jaskier grabbed the witcher’s arm. Geralt could have pulled away but he didn’t. He let Jaskier lead him back to his room.

The bath was a messy affair. Jaskier went first. He only had to wash off the blood that had transferred from Geralt in the hug. Geralt waited on the bed, facing the wall whilst Jaskier cleaned up, and then it was the witcher’s turn. It took multiple buckets of water to get all the gore from Geralt’s silver hair and the witcher protested when Jaskier dumped his clothes in the bin. He tucked Geralt’s armour in the corner of the room but the shirts underneath just had to go. Under his clothes, Geralt had a deep cut on his side.

“Geralt!” Jaskier pouted. “You didn’t tell me you were injured!”

Geralt grunted and Jaskier flitted around the room to gather up his medical supplies. He felt a bubble of excitement in his chest. This was it. He was finally able to prove he could be a companion to the witcher. Once Geralt was finished in the bath and lying on the bed with a towel wrapped around his waist, Jaskier tended to wound. Geralt winced as Jaskier stitch it up as carefully as he could but stayed silent until after the bandages were in place.

“Thank you, Jaskier.”

Jaskier patted the witcher on his shoulder. “No problem, Geralt. Stay here for a few days. Rest.”

Geralt opened his mouth to protest.

“Stay!” Jaskier insisted, putting his hand over Geralt’s mouth.

Geralt glared but nodded.

In the end Geralt stayed with him for two days whilst he recovered from the fight. It had been a giant centipede apparently. Geralt had been taken off guard when the insect had burst free of the ground underneath his feet and gored him with its pincers. Geralt had managed to slice his silver sword through the beast’s belly whilst it had been caught in a magic trap and the guts had covered the witcher as the centipede died. Apparently, Geralt had been lucky not to have been poisoned but the witcher mentioned that he did have a potion for that, in small golden bottle.

Jaskier devoured up the information like a starved dog at the butchers. He scribbled down notes the whole time that Geralt spoke to him. He wanted to know everything. The gory details made his stomach turn a little but he was determined to get better with that so he didn’t protest.

On the second day, Jaskier trailed Geralt back to the stables near the edge of town. He still had Roach, although she was looking more frail than she had last time Jaskier had seen her. He offered her an apple which she took greedily before nuzzling Jaskier’s hand.

“Hmm.” Geralt watched the interaction carefully. “She hates people.”

“I wonder wherever could she have learnt that from.” Jaskier gave Geralt a wink and continued to pet the horse.

“You’re not coming?” Geralt asked for the second time.

Jaskier reluctantly shook his head. “Not this time.”

He had to laugh at the irony. He’d been begging Geralt to take him away for years and now the witcher was finally offering it, he was turning it down, but he wanted to finish his studies. He still had a lot to learn about all manner of things, but mostly about himself. The boy from Lettenhove was gone. Julian had been trapped under his father’s thumb until the age of twelve and then controlled by his mother until he’d escaped to Oxenfurt at fifteen. Julian had just needed an escape and Geralt offered that, a shining hope, a purpose. Now he was at Oxenfurt he was learning who he could be without the demands of Lettenhove, and he found he rather liked that person. Geralt was no longer is only option in life and that somehow made him want it even more.

It was now his choice.

He could be anything. He could return home to be the rightful Viscount de Lettenhove. He could stay in Oxenfurt and teach once he finished his own degree. He was good enough, his professors had already mentioned it as an option. He could become a bard and sing in court, like Valdo wanted in life, or travel around the world singing his creations and entertaining the masses all around the Continent. He could focus on medicine and become a healer. With his skills of persuasion and swordsmanship he could probably even become a spy!

But he still wanted Geralt. He wanted to experience the world by the side of the witcher.

Geralt hummed and nodded as he mounted Roach.

“I’ll find you.” Jaskier promised, grasping the witcher’s hand in his. “Once I’ve graduated and seen some of the world for myself. I’ll find you.”

They shook hands and then Geralt was off.

Jaskier watched him go with a flutter of regret in his stomach. He was sure in his decision. He knew he needed this, but he couldn’t help but wonder whether he would see the witcher again.

Gods, he really hoped he would.

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