#then they fuck off to create their own kingdom together with the stick

[wannabe-minion-of-chaos]

For a stick of truth au, consider

Craig/Feldspar being the one to have stolen the stick and brought back Clyde from being banished from space and time in the first place

(also I'm elaborating in tags again)

[wren-dy-flowergarden]

A fairytale we will never forget. (Wanderer/f!Reader)

*ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴ You are a failed writer of the Academia and Nahida gives you something to write about. Post Sumeru Arc! Wanderer x f!academiaReader *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴A/N: OK! LISTEN- I have so much I need to write and My Precious Treasures is giving me trouble. Let me have my small little scaramouche man to cheer me up until my writing gets better (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*). (Side note: not everything is cannon compliant, Im still on last act of story- but have been semi spoiled lol cause Kaveh stole my heart and the event was sooo cute!) *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Word Count: 3.3k *ੈ✩‧˚₊⁀➴Tags: if bickering was cute, writing stories together, lots of fluff, light spoilers, writer will do anything for inspiration, poor be'tad

───────────✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ *.✧.*✦ ───────────────

You've failed again and would you be surprised it's not the first time you have failed.

It might have been the sixth, but you have lost count when your writings could fill ten books worth. You look at the scrolls limply hanging off your desk, the textbooks pilling so high they create a safety hazard of 'homicide by books'.

It's not right. It's not correct. It's not factual. It's not accurate. That's all they say, when they dismiss you with a wave of their hand and close the doors in front of sleepless eyes.

You want to scream, because it's not fucking accurate when a measly academia scholar like yourself cannot even read non-biased readings that do not have the author as Great Sage.

You needed something to take your mind off this.

You needed a break.

"You want to write a fantasy novel?" Aether comments munching on a stick of grilled meat. He looked off put by your comment as his companion Paimon speaks up, "Paimon doesn't understand how more writing is taking a break from writing?"

"It's a break because I can enjoy myself! No need to look at which theory makes more sense than the old. No more citing ancient sages that lived hundreds of years ago that are outdated. A good old fantasy."

Aether rolls his eyes, "And what defines 'good old fantasy'?"

Your eyes shine as you point directly at him. He scoffs as he tries another vendor's dish, "I mean- You have fought literal gods right! Or at least people tell me you have fought monsters that are as strong as gods!" You pause as you comment on your own delusions, "Well- I'm not sure how strong a god is, but it sounds impressive."

Aether is about to stop you as you continue, "Oh! Oh, what about the time you slayed a dragon? That sounds super interesting."

He groans in a way that you sense is that every time someone mentions the words 'dragon', that he must correct them, "For the last time. We didn't 'slay' it. We purified the crystal that made Dvalin sick."

"...So, your saying saved a kingdom from dark magic and that is not fantastical enough!"

You slam a couple mora onto the next vendor as Aether finished his latest dish. Sure, that money was for the breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next two days but what could be better than breathing, live, material!

You plead, "Please! One story, any story! I need something to jump start my brain that is not a library book."

Aether looks up the sky longingly you would narrate it as a 'take me now' moment; but surely not from you.

"Any story?"

You beam nodding as Aether reluctantly says yes.

.

.

.

"So that's the story. Sorry about this but I need to be back in Liyue by tomorrow and knowing (Y/N), she can um- be a lot."

You can't understand the rest of the sentence, but you see Aether talking to a smaller girl with leaves in her hair and flowers that bloomed around her.

At least that is what you say, but behind the boy with a large hat covering his head wore a frown as you could see each flower wilting- dead on the floor fictitiously.

What a buzzkill.

The girl, Nahida is what Aether calls her and she reminds you of sunshine that warms your heart. She smiles as she gives a small wave to you. As she does the boy behind her taps his foot frown never leaving his face.

"I see." And there is an ethereal ring in the small girl’s voice, "Leave it to us, please give the people of Liyue and the him our regards."

"Huh! Us?" A voice speaks at the same time. It was the boy with short purple hair dressed in flowing clothes different than your own. He looked like the wind would parachute him away at any second.

Aether sensing the shift whispered goodbye to you, leaving the room with the small girl and the frowning boy.

The girl speaks up first, "Aether told us of your 'predicament'? She questions because, no, writing a fantasy novel isn't considered a predicament more than getting a thorn stuck in your thumb; compared to how the academia cranks out automatous, encyclopedias of information that are used as the life blood of people’s lives, but in a sweets way she gives respect as she looks in your eyes.

Or so you thought.

"Therefore, he will help you!" And she points her thumb behind her to a balking boy who stomps his foot down. You could have sworn you felt the ground shaking, but that was probably his attitude.

"Wha- I refuse! There is no way I will be helping that baboon." And ouch, because words do hurt but if he had any sense of social norms and could read the room he would not continue. But he did, "You expect me to become one of those mediocre story tellers on the street?"

You glower as you gather any confidence you have in your work, "How dare you. Stories keep people alive!" And he gives you a look as if you are the idiot in the room because stories don't technically keep you alive, but that didn't stop your ramble," They let us share emotional connection with one each other as we can obtain a deeper understanding of people!" Don't say it, remember your manners, “and someone like you that has the emotional capability of a doormat wouldn't understand that!"

You wince as you see the boy’s brow raise underneath his ridiculously large hat, his mouth snarling as he cracks his fingers. It felt like the air was being sucked out of the room.

"Oh, really now?" It sounds like a threat the way his tone bleeds with irritation, "Let’s see who's the doormat once I-"

Nahida, gently places a hand on top of his and the air returns to normal. You let out a gasp that you did not feel you were holding as her voice rings out, "Now children, that's not how to treat each other."

She looks stern? Like a mother that is discipling her child by the way his face writhes into reluctance. She gives you a harsh stare that makes you feel like your own mother is chiding you, "Now, people who ask for favors can't start fighting with the asked. Can they?"

You look down at the floor, digging your heel in, properly chastised, "No... they can't."

She turns to the boy behind, "And people who invite guests into their home..."

He looks reluctant as if this wasn't his first time finishing her sentence, "don't blast them away..."

Blast them away?‌ And you think the right answer should be 'threaten, cause bodily harm, or even joke about causing bodily harm' but the small girl looks content either way.

"Now to start good relationships, we shake hands!" She clasps her hands together smiling.

Neither of you move.

"I rather not take my chances."

"I rather put my hand in boiling water."

Oh yes, this will be wonderful...

You sit down on a bench overlooking the landscape of Sumeru. It was beautiful the way the bustling of the city created a divide between the ethereal beauty of the nature itself to the bustling city life that coexisted with it.

Now that's beautifully said. Wait- but you used the word "beautiful" at least three, not four times now. What could you use instead?

You were about to dive deeper into your thoughts before a voice interrupted.

"Hey baboon!" A voice calls in which you wish was with endearment, because at least that be cuter than plain degrading. The boy pushes a plate of sticky rice plated with different types of fresh fruit, covered with syrupy goodness, "This is disgusting."

He's been doing this a while now, ever since Nahida kicked you two both out of the house with a couple of mora to keep you both full (how nice of her). She commented on 'sharing experiences with one each other', leading you to buy your favorite dessert as an olive branch.

You see the way her pushes the plate off towards the side of the table, "Hey that's my favorite dessert you know!"

And he scoffs folding his hands across his chest, leaning against the chair, "You have the tastebuds of a child then." And of course he continues, because goddamnit he does not know when enough is enough, "Oh- I forgot you are a child trying to create a kid's book."

You don't know which is worse. You going back to your small apartment to keep writing a bleeding thesis paper or you having to deal with this punk.

You take a breath in, you strive for peace, "Well. Then what's your favorite food?"

He rolls his eyes, "I don't have a favorite food."

"Everyone has something they like." You counter because he is not getting off the hook.

He pauses before he replies in pure reluctance, "Tea. The more bitter the better."

Now you're folding your hands across your chest, mirroring him.

"Tea?" You deadpan, "That's not a food."

"Were you not listening? I said I had no favorite food."

This time you scoff, "Well then why don't you like sticky rice?"

"It's disgusting."

"That's not an answer!"

"It is an answer you complete and utterly useless-!"

A third voice, "Excuse me."

You both turn to a server that has seen better days in their effort to survive customer service industry. The man looks at you and then at him, "You need to leave unless you stop yelling at each other. There are others trying to enjoy the view."

You look behind him and indeed others do look frustrated with the boy and you. At least you can read the room before the boy in front of you could, he looked like he was about to argue, and it was an argument he would lose. Slamming a couple of mora with a quick sorry, you grab the boy by his sleeve running out leaving your mango sticky rice behind.

By the time you make it to the top of Sumeru you are huffing and puffing. Air feels like fire as you steady yourself on your kneecaps gasping. Next to you, the boy has every piece of flowing fabric in place, his face not even a drip of sweat upon it. In other words, he looks and probably is way healthier than you.

"How- huff aren't you- dying?" And you say it in a way the means 'how are you standing', 'why are you freakishly healthy' or in a comedic sort of way 'are you even human?'; but his jumps eyes wide as he retorts head up high, "Everyone can run at least that far."

You start to think about your counterparts in the academia and how even a mile run would make you want to never leave your room again, and then you rethink, because Aether is his 'friend?' and that blond hair boy is certainly the least normal boy you know but he might fall into the category of 'everyone' to your interviewee.

That gave you hope.

You sit at a rickety bench underneath tarp that give a nice shade in the sun, fanning your shirt to let air in between all your robes. You notice him standing off to the side, like a cat waiting to be beckoned and that almost makes this time bearably. He must have surrendered, because he sees you eyeing him then the chair across from you and he sit down right on the edge.

"So", you start once you’re sure you can say a whole sentence without wheezing, "I know- that maybe, we got off on the wrong foot," and he opens his mouth for another (probably insensitive) comment and you talk quicker, "but I'm ready to listen to any story you have to share!" There quick and simple.

He closes his mouth, the thin line never shifting in his lips before he huffed, "I don't have a story for you."

And all common courtesy went out the window as you breathe in and out, peace! Peace you say! "Everyone has a story." A twinge of sass, "Like how everyone has a favorite food."

"Fine. I'll be more clear. I have no "fantasy" story that you will want to write."

And you blink, that was not the response you were expecting. You feel the academic spirit ignited in you as you prod for more information, "What do you mean by that?"

He's thinking and you can see thunder clouds brewing in his purple eyes as he clenches his teeth, "You want those dumb fairy tales where idiotic princes go save a damsel huh? Someone who saves you no matter what even though there is no one there!" You describe it as lightning engulfing his eyes as it leaks out with every enunciation in his words. You can feel the hair at the bottom of your neck standing up, "How stupid you all are."

A moment of thought, "Well, if you put it that way it is pretty stupid."

His face contorts in a way that you wonder if your face muscles can do that as well, "Huh?!"

"Yah!" You twiddle you fingers as if trying to connect the dots, "I never said I wanted to write a classic fantasy story! Who gets to say what I will write?" You stand up renewed energy as the cogs move in your mind, "I'm writing this because I want to! Stories are meant to connect us and if I can't hear your story then how the hell am I even supposed to know what to write?"

You don't let him even start. His mouth agape.

"You're right I may be an idiot I will admit. I can't even pass a stupid thesis paper because I am too focused on the fact that every paper I have used as reference sucks the living life out of me faster than I can even graduate." You point a finger towards him, your index finger almost touching his nose and he is spluters, "But Im not an idiot when it comes to sharing others stories."

When you're sure he's not going to start on another rampant of the insipid state of his world you say one last thing. A perfect conclusion.

"We haven't formally introduced ourselves."

His brows furrow, "Ha- I know your name!" He says in a loud voice, but there is less venom this time.

You shake your head, giving little tuts of disappointment, "No silly" he preens at the word but it's payback for him calling you a baboon, "I don't know your name."

The boy eyes cross towards your fingertips as he slaps your hands away, "Get your hand out of my face." You can tell he is thinking.

He gives a sigh, before mulling over the possibility of only one-story telling night vs. a determined author who will bang on his door every day until she gets what she wants. At least that's what you believe he is thinking of.

"You can call me..."

His voice becomes muffled under his hat, and you ask him to repeat again. His violet eyes dart to the side darkening, like saying his name is sooo difficult.

. 

.

.

".... hat guy"

You swear your ears misheard him underneath that large hat he wears as his voice projects to the ground, "Sorry, say that one more time?"

"...Hat...Guy"

This time you blink in incredulous response, "Hat guy?" You give him time to at least say a semblance of a normal name, but he is quiet, hands folded over his chest as his final answer, "Really? Hat guy?"

You throw your hands up, "I thought we were getting somewhere! Like I was trying to open up to you about the whole story thing!" Your hands lower in apocryphal delusion, "Hat guy... what type of parent names them hat guy?"

It's so ridiculous that you start laughing.

"Stop laughing! You're looking more like a baboon than before." A sharp comment breaks you out of breath as you hunch your sides.

You wipe a nonexistence tear from you tear ducts as you look at him. A faint mellow glow is left on his cheekbones- the only word you can use to describe the reaction is embarrassment.

Or anger. Probably anger.

The fleetingness of absurdity leaves you as the last hiccup escapes your lips, he looks like a cat that had water poured on him, "Sorry, sorry! I'll be serious now. Nice to meet you pft Hat Guy!" A guffaw escapes again and this time you have to stop because it looks like he's ready to punch your lights out.

You slip next to him, his face a contorting to annoyance. Pulling out a small journal, that has seen better days, kept in the back of your satchel you find a pen. Clicking the pen as you flip to an open page.

"So. Where do you want to start?"

"Wow (Y/N) you really..." Aether pauses finding the words, "stuck to the facts?" He finishes handing the rest of the paper to Paimon struggling to hold the rest of the pages in her tiny hands.

Paimon struggles to flip through the pages, squinting at the words on the page her eyes flicking to the violet haired boy in the back, "Yeah! Who knew that he was a prince of a continent who was known for dragon slaying? Then went on a thousand-year-old journey to find a piece of paper that hold the secret of a war from a long long LONG time ago...?" Even Paimon was awestruck by your story telling.

You puff up your chest in pride, "Well, the dragon slaying idea had come from you Aether. Gotta switch it around sometimes you know?" And you can see Aether facepalm his face mumbling something that's not worth the effort to narrate.

You turn toward Nahida and the boy of inspiration, "So! How do you like the first draft? I’m thinking of adding more details and vocabulary but all and all pretty good right!"

The girl, Nahida tilts her head in wonder, "I had no idea your story was so rich." She holds a secret behind her smile as she looks up towards the boy who hasn't said a word about the manuscript, "Truly, this has been an enlightening experience."

You nod rapidly, she always knew what to say to lift your spirits. You hop over to "hat guy" as he is staring blankly at your hard work. You give a small poke, and he jerks violet eyes catching yours.

"How is it?" You tilt your head to fit underneath his hat as you point towards a paragraph that has to do with the boy falling out of his kingdom in the first act, "Pretty accurate right? I tried combining multiple classic fantasy stories to create this, like you said."

He doesn't push you away, nor does he voice any acrimony. He does look at you like an adult would look at a child who made a mess of their kitchen before presenting equally a mess of a cake that people have to coo at because- it's a child's cake. Inedible, sloppy cute and the worst part- burnt on one side and raw on the other, but nonetheless a product of hard work made by a child.

Though this could be your imagination but notice him open his mouth after deliberating his thoughts. He decisively says in full confidence:

"I see why you haven't graduated."

[earnestly-endlessly]

I love your fic recs! Do you have any with Protective!Erik?

Protective! Erik is one of my favourite tropes so I have a TON of fics to share with you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

Protective! Erik fic recs

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – madneto, Pangea

Summary: Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

In Sound and Silence – endingthemes

Summary: Erik is assigned to care for the special patient in room 301.

How Not To Meet Your Future Boyfriend – ikeracity

Summary: Erik punches Charles in the face the first time they meet. There isn't anywhere their relationship can go from there but up.

Forgotten – FuryRed

Summary: Charles is having a really bad day. Not only has he woken up in the middle of the afternoon with no idea where he is or how he got there, but when he returns home he’s confronted by a stranger with intense eyes, who insists that he knows Charles rather more intimately than Charles remembers…

Thou Shalt Not Eat Stones – valancysnaith

Summary: Two months after Washington, Raven found Erik in a skeevy motel off the Florida interstate.

“They have Charles, Erik,” she said.

The bedframe shrieked. In the bathroom, the showerhead snapped in half and clattered into the tub.

Demoted – JayPendragon

Summary: Erik Lehnsherr is a detective-specialist with the NYPD Mutant Tactical Unit, ready to help out where his skills are needed. Or he would be, if he and his partner hadn’t been demoted. For the next four months, he is patrolling the Lenox Hill precinct with Azazel – if he doesn’t die of boredom first. One night they are called in to investigate a potential case of domestic violence, yet the tenant assures them he is both alone and unharmed. However, there is something about this Charles Xavier that compels Erik to follow up.

Warning: Sensitive material, domestic abuse and dubious consent

Watch Your Back – swoopswoop

Summary: Bodyguard AU where Erik is overly protective and things aren't as simple as they seem.

If We Met Differently – swoopswoop

Summary: Erik wasn't the only mutant 'taken in' by Shaw, Erik learns this the hard way when a new mutant is dropped into his cell. They manage to escape together, but things aren't all roses after that. Erik has a score to settle and needs to make sure Charles is safe.

The Color of Love (Character Swap Remix) – BadLuckBlueEyes

Summary: Nobody sees in color until they meet their soulmates. When your soulmate dies, your vision returns to black and white. What happens when your soulmate only dies for a few minutes?

Omega Online – miss_aphelion

Summary: Newly imprinted Charles is having trouble dealing with his overly protective alpha—so in desperation he seeks advice in an omega chat room. Emma Frost is more than happy to help, Raven isn't helping at all, and Erik can't stand to be out of touch with Charles for more than five minutes at a time.

Cannot be Contained in Words – wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe) 

Summary: Crime syndicate head Erik Lehnsherr travels to London on business, where he meets oxford student Charles Xavier. Their liaison spawns into a years long transatlantic affair, kept apart by Erik's work and Charles' studies,which Erik chronicles in photographs. When distance ceases to be an issue after four long years, the overlap between Charles' past and Erik's work create a whole new set of complications.

A Pertinent Reminder – ikeracity, Pangea

Summary: Sometimes it's easy to forget that getting involved in Erik's mob business isn't all fine dining and sex on yachts. There's nothing like taking a couple of bullets to remind Charles of the reality.

Part 3 of the Associates series

A Dangerous Game – ikeracity, pangea

Summary: When a familiar enemy of Erik's returns to the city for some old-fashioned revenge, Charles is sucked deeper into the world of the mob than ever before.

Part 6 of the Associates series

You don’t choose the thug life (except when you do) – Anonymous

Summary: Charles is kidnapped and discovers that Erik, the Alpha he has been dating for the past few months and is head-over-heels for, is not just a wealthy businessman but actually the head of a syndicate.

He is rather unhappy about this discovery and Erik gets an earful for lying to him. Then Charles is kidnapped again and really, he hopes mating Erik won't result in weekly kidnapping because he has a thesis to finish and papers to grade.

Marrying a Mob – Ook

Summary: Charles is a teacher at a very exclusive school. When armed men burst in on the trail of two children, of course he stands up to them and gets hurt. The children are Erik Lehnsherr's children (of course); a "prominent businessman" or, less politely, "mobster".

Erik is grateful to Charles for saving his children's lives at the cost of his kneecap. So very grateful.

Naturally he tries to reward Charles for his actions. Equally naturally, Charles will be having none of that.

Azazel finds the whole thing unspeakably hilarious. Naturally.

Rumor Has It – blueink3

Summary: "Did I hear the doorbell earlier?"

"Yeah, but I'd steer clear if I were you. It seemed a little tense. I don't know what's going on, but there's a kid out there who looks freakily like the prof."

Nearly six months after Cuba, Charles' life is turned upside down for the second time. Though he's slowly learning to adapt to the first, he's not sure he can handle the second. Luckily for him, there are a few people out there more than willing to help.

Forward Momentum – AsYouWish

Summary: Six months after Cuba, Charles and Erik find themselves thrown fifty years into the future, where they meet their older selves, the Avengers, and a world that's very different from their own. Faced with the pieces of their broken relationship, an unparalleled adversary, and dealing with Tony Stark on a daily basis, Charles and Erik do their best to adapt while trying to find a way back home -- and to each other.

Runs in the Family – Anonysquirrel (chibirisuchan)

Summary: Alex knew his own reputation. Hell, he'd started some of his own reputation, because it kept some of the smarter thugs off his back. Everyone knew Alex's reputation. There was no way Hank didn't know his reputation, but he'd brought Alex into a house with some really expensive things and a lot of innocent little kids and his too-friendly, too-harmless dad.

But clearly Hank hadn't told his family anything about Alex, just like he hadn't told Alex anything about his family. At least, not about the brain-breaking parts of his family.

"I didn't know where to start," Hank said, for the dozenth time.

Featuring mpreg!Charles in a Kiss The Cook apron, overprotective!Erik in wet black leather, and baked goods. Lots and lots of baked goods.

Round the Corner Waiting – swoopswoop

Summary: When things go so spectacularly wrong during a relationship, Charles - now a single dad - almost makes a big mistake, only to be stopped by a mysterious man who just might turn his life back around.

Hide Your Fires – swoopswoop

Summary: As the sole heir, Prince Charles, had no problem with the roles and responsibility that would come with ruling a kingdom. Though he was the only one who did not see a problem. After years of being shuttled back and forth between kingdoms, his Regent hoping he would find a match more suitable to being King, he is finally sent to Genosha. Though the path has never been less clear than the one to a foreign kingdom with no ties to his native land.

Shaw’s Captive – swoopswoop

Summary: Magneto killed Shaw, it had to be done for the sake of mutant-kind but what he wasn't expecting to find hidden deep with Shaw's complex was a man held captive, obviously tortured, that somehow made Magneto turn into Erik.

Erik now has a potential human in his citadel as he continues the war with the human's.

Mind’s Eye Blind – Sperare 

Summary: As far as Erik is concerned, if you want to scare a person into talking, you have to present him with something more compelling than what he stands to lose...

And there is nothing in the world more compelling than Charles.

Chipped – Rosawyn 

Summary: Magneto's fledgling Brotherhood find Charles Xavier in a mutations research lab as an apparently willing subject for an experimental suppression device.

Okay, I Feel Better Now – Harleydoll

Summary: The AU in which Erik is sent to a mental health facility after being convicted for Shaw's murder and pleads insanity, and Charles is his paranoid schizophrenic of a roommate. Powers, Hellfire conspiracies, protective!Erik, and of course the inevitable angst.

Five Nights in Nuremberg – FuryRed

Summary: When Charles escapes from the mutant prison he has been held in for the last two years he knows that he’s going to need help to avoid being recaptured.

What he doesn’t expect is that help will come in the form of a mysterious German man who rescues Charles and takes him to his home; a handsome stranger who, frustratingly, doesn’t speak a single word of English…

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Notes: Unfinished but an excellent read. Highly recommend it.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

My Barbaric Darling – baehj2915

Summary: Erik is revivified caveman. Charles is the anthropologist(?) taking care of him. This is as ridiculous as it sounds. Romcom misunderstandings and prehistoric wooing ensues.

Swimming with Sharks – Not_You

Summary: Erik used to be a shark. Now he's not, and has to figure out how to be a good human father to his twins. Charles is willing to help.

Eucalyptus leaf of my soul - kageillusionz, ourgirlfriday

Summary: Zookeeper Raven at Taronga Zoo keeps having ideas on how to capitalize on interest in the zoo mascots, Koala Charles and Drop Bear Erik (the only drop bear in captivity!), who have captured the hearts and minds of the public. First it was to introduce prospective mates (It’ll generate attention, Hank. People are perverts. They’d love to see koala porn.). This idea was not effective the first through fifth attempts, as Erik and Charles seemed to show at best polite interest in the newcomer before resuming whatever marsupial debate they had going. However, the resulting lesbian koala orgies did indeed generate interest. Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Koala program, which was successful, as the public showed great interest in hugging Charles, and Charles seemed to enjoy being hugged.

Then Raven unveiled the Hug-A-Drop Bear program, and Hank, not for the first time, wished he had a flask handy.

Notes: Yes, they’re Koalas, yes they’re adorable, and yes, Erik is super protective even as a Drop Bear.

[danishmiilk]

when thunder splits the sky - na jaemin

au || royalty!au, soulmates!au

genre || angst, fluff, slight crack

warnings || swearing, death mentioned, almost deathly sickness, a lot of stress on jaemin and y/n’s part, throwing up.

summary || soulmates. the source of happiness, the source of sickness. you’re shocked that your best friend (and the second prince) is your soulmate, but it shouldn’t be too bad. after all, you’re best friends, right? you know each other better than anyone else in the world. but when jaemin refuses to realise his love, shit hits the fan.

word count || ~10k

note || this is a collaboration piece with @astroboy-lele​ for @k-dinernet​‘s dance off event!

you and jaemin were close, closer than a commoner and a prince should be. but since you were the main cook’s daughter, it wasn’t too uncommon to see the two of you running around with bright smiles lighting up your faces. then studies took over for jaemin. he was constantly studying to become a better king than his dad, which was slightly unfair since he wasn’t even the crown prince. but accidents could happen, so jaemin had to be prepared. so you were left to your own devices most of the time, fiddling with things in the kitchen, or helping clean the monstrous castle jaemin called home. 

“jaem!” you giggled happily when jaemin emerged from the library’s study. he looked tired. more tired than a 17 year old should be. dark circles contrasted his pale skin, and your hand automatically came up to rub at his slim cheeks. “you should get more rest.” you chided him.

“can’t.” jaemin responded curtly, removing your hands from his face. “i need to study.” 

"but you're always studying," you sighed. it shouldn't be this hard to spend time with your best friend, but you supposed it was one of the cons of befriending the second prince of your kingdom. 

"you don't understand, y/n! how could you? it's my duty to my family and my country to keep studying in case, heaven forbid, anything happens to doyoung hyung!" he snapped sharply at you, and though you knew he was clearly overstretched and stressed beyond anything you'd ever seen him (or didn't see him, he was always in the library nowadays anyway), you still took a step back and flinched away, hurt. jaemin stepped forward, mouth trying to form apologies. you shook your head, eyes glassy.

“don’t.” your voice was softer than expected. “i’ll.. i’ll leave you to it.” you ran off before jaemin could even react, wiping at your eyes. 

jaemin watched you go. he watched you leave, back retreating into the dark hallways. he felt bad, of course he did - jaemin would never snap at you for no good reason. the last time he actually wanted to hurt someone was when you came to him sobbing, one year ago. the memory was still fresh in jaemin’s mind. 

you supposed it could be you being too sensitive, but it was the toll the absence of jaemin took on you. sure, absence made the heart grow fonder, but it also did make cracks emerge in a friendship. you couldn’t see your cracks yet, but they’d emerge soon enough - it was the first time in so long you’d managed to talk to jaemin, and he’d just brushed you away brusquely. your hand raised to your eyes to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen. 

without looking where you were running, you’d bumped into something very solid. something very human. roughly, you placed your hands on said solid thing and pushed yourself away, speeding around the obstacle to the forest, tears still filling up your eyes. you didn’t blink them back - if you’d blinked, they were sure to have fallen out.

“y/n?” the very confused crown prince shouted out from somewhere behind you, “what’s going on?” and unbeknownst to you, his brother was soon to follow, brushing past him like he was invisible (last he checked, he wasn’t.) “jaemin?” the pair of you had left long before there was a chance to provide the prince with any of his requested answers, leaving a very confused doyoung standing in the middle of the hallway. sighing, doyoung brushed off his clothes. sometimes he didn’t know what he put up with you for. 

once you set foot into the forest, immediate regret almost washed over you. it started raining. not gently either, it came down in harsh droplets, hammering into your clothes, thoroughly soaking you to the bone. you shivered, rubbing your hands up and down your arms, trying to bring warmth to yourself. it didn’t work, so you settled with standing under a tree in an attempt to stay out of the storm. you gazed up at the sky, wincing as thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding you of your fears. you wished with all your might that the storm would stop. it didn’t. of course it didn’t. why would it, it was nature, and nature didn’t listen to common people, only the gods above. “y/n? y/n! oh my god, y/n!” you heard a shout echo through the forest, and you shivered again. “there you are, do you know how long i’ve been looking for you?” jaemin accused, hands grabbing at your shoulders. you glared back, though it wasn’t threatening as you were shaking and shivering, teeth chattering. “you know it’s the rainy season and almost winter! what the fuck were you thinking?” jaemin huffed, but shrugged off his coat and draped it around your shoulders gently, concern making his eyebrows knit together.

“it was sunny before.” you protested, and jaemin exhaled, shaking his head with disappointment at your naive actions. 

“you should know the weather changes quickly,” jaemin retorted, and that shut you up. you knew the weather changed fast, but emotions took over you, just wanting to escape the castle jaemin called home. “we should find some shelter. i know there’s an old cottage somewhere, i just don’t know where.” jaemin sighed. 

you raised your eyebrows at him, “what, it wouldn’t be some strange warped hansel and gretel remix going on, would it? because we’re not smart enough to push witches into ovens.” jaemin smiled widely, chuckling at your small jab at yourself and him.

“no, it’s completely safe.” he assured you, grabbing your hand. jaemin nervously cleared his throat. “uh… i, i should apologize for earlier. it wasn’t right for me to snap at you.” you squeezed his hand gently.

“i know you’re stressed, it’s okay. i really should be more lenient.” you sighed, slightly disappointed in yourself for not understanding your best friend’s struggles. his hair was sticking to his forehead, yours similarly sticking you your arms and neck. 

“it’s just the expectations, you know. of my parents, of the people… of the country.” jaemin’s eyes widened in horror and fear, an expression that would be almost comical under different circumstances and whispered, “what if i have to rule the country one day?”

your friend blanched and you sighed, tightening your hold around him to anchor him to reality, “look, i’m not saying you’re incapable of doing it, but it’s really quite impossible that something were to happen to doyoung, so i don’t think you really have to worry about that too much. still, being royalty is probably way harder than i could imagine.”

his voice wistful, jaemin’s eyes shined with tears - or perhaps it was just the rain creating illusions. “sometimes i wish i were never born into royalty. but you know what, there’s pros and cons to everything, that’s just how life is. we get privileges, but we can’t have the best of both worlds. still,” he looked down at the wet ground, “every time i see children running about or playing with their friends in courtyards or in the streets, it makes me wish i had a childhood. makes me wish i had friends, and was allowed to play with them, to live a normal life. normal. what a beautiful word, really, and how ironic that millions of people would give anything to be a member of the royal family, while the second prince would do anything to get out of being one.”

there wasn’t very much to say, you thought, considering jaemin very rarely went into long, emotional speeches like this one. you’d never be able to understand, and you weren’t about to try. softly, so very softly, you whispered, “but you have me.” jaemin smiled softly, and slightly proudly at you. 

“yeah. yeah, i do.” and he did. he’s always had you, from the first day he sneaked into the kitchen for a taste of his birthday cake before he was supposed to, until- well, there isn’t an until if you’ll have his back forever, is there?

a cottage was beginning to come into view in the distance, a quaint little thing fit for no more than one person (or perhaps seven dwarves, no reference to snow white intended). the rain blurred your vision and wind whipped through your hair, but it was shelter, and so hand in hand, you ran towards it.

“to what honour do i owe the presence of the second prince at my humble abode?” a boy’s voice, sweet and melodic, came from behind you.

you jumped. “jaemin! i thought you said it was safe.” you hissed, clutching at jaemins arms. jaemin just shrugged. you sighed, keeping an eye on the strange boy. jaemin gripped your hand tighter, however.  

jaemin gestured vaguely around, staring at the auburn-haired boy with no small amount of skepticism, “i thought you’d be… older. like, an old lady.”

the boy scoffed. “who’s to say i’m not? witches don’t always have to be middle aged ladies with no fashion sense and even less hair. i’m donghyuck, by the way. come on in.” jaemin was still looking the boy up and down in curiosity, finally blurting out, “witches use umbrellas?”

“no, we’re waterproof,” donghyuck deadpanned, sarcasm filling his words.

“jaemin,” you frowned, “do you know him?” a quick shake of his head confirmed your suspicions. “then why,” you half-screeched into his ear, “do you assume he’s safe?”

“i’m not. i could turn you into a frog, if you want.” the boy suggested, waving a hand, making you flinch and jaemin move your smaller frame behind him. donghyuck moved a shoulder evenly up and down, “joking.” 

“that wasn’t funny!” you gasped. donghyuck moved his other shoulder up and down, doing a strange half-shrug again, “nobody gets my humour.” 

you followed him into the house, dripping water all over his doormat and the wooden planks of his floor, but not daring to move any further than that. donghyuck waved his hand, slamming the wooden door shut behind you and lighting the fire, “will the two of you stop looking so shocked? it’s not like i’m going to cook you for dinner, so why are you acting like you’ve never seen a witch before?”

“because we haven’t,” the note of childlike curiosity reappeared in jaemin’s voice, and you were glad his mind was taken off of his royal duties, “they were outlawed a long time ago.” “right,” donghyuck levitated a couple mugs of cocoa over to you, “i forgot, sorry.”

“so your existence is basically illegal, and yet you’re serving the prince of your kingdom hot chocolate in the middle of the thunderstorm like nothing’s wrong?” you sputtered in disbelief, though you didn’t actually splutter, of course; that was rather an expression authors liked using. “all in a day’s work,” donghyuck glanced at you again, “come in and stop dripping water on the mat. would you believe it, magically drying the mat is harder than magically drying the wood.” very honestly, you didn’t know what to make of that boy. 

you stood awkwardly, pressing yourself into jaemin’s side as you watched donghyuck bustle around his house, ironically not unlike an old lady. “so, ummm, could you show us some magic or something?”

“like drying our clothes,” jaemin added, motioning to the soaked fabric draped over his body.

“they’ll dry, just sit by the fireplace. in the meantime, i can show you a soulmate spell if you’d like to see it. it’s one of the easier and prettier spells, so i think you’d enjoy it, even if it’s highly unlikely it would work. soulmates are rare things, and even rarer are soulmates who discover each other and the fact that they are soulmates. so i’ll do it, but if you two don’t turn out to be soulmates, don’t be disappointed. if you do, there isn’t going to be a flash of golden light and a shower of sequins either, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“you’re saying like what would happen is one of us would die and suddenly come back to life.” you sarcastically commented, but eyes growing wide as the moon above when donghyuck looked around nervously. 

“well…” he started, but you held up a hand. 

“excuse me, what. come again?”

“let me just show you.” donghyuck sighed, and got up, grabbing a book from the large shelf pushed against the wall. he flipped through a few pages carefully, and let out a satisfied “ah,” when he found the correct page in the yellowing book. “the concept of soulmates hath been the strongest bond known to man since the beginnings of time. for the true blossoming of true love takes place when the eyes of soulmates transform into colours of the fall. time and time again, history older than anything thou or i could ever imagine hast proven that soulmates are rare, ones who know about them even more so. for thee, the pair who is reading this, thou art soulmates. it would be an insult to fate and everyone who cannot experience such a connection to not realise your feelings. thou hath one month to realize feelings or one half of the pair will be fated to a cruel ending. as mere mortals, we do not make the rules. nobody can help thee except the other, but fear not. you are soulmates. you have a bond. said bond shalt be enough, if thou realises it.” haechan read, rubbing the thin, old pages of the book between careful fingers. you glanced over at jaemin who was shifting his weight back and forth, not knowing where to put his feet. “so, basically,” donghyuck started, ignoring jaemin’s nervous state. “if your soulmate doesn’t acknowledge their feelings for you, or you don’t, one of you would basically die.” he shrugged. your mouth dropped open. how in the world was he so calm about it? “what the fuck? they could die?” jaemin seemed to share your sentiment.

“what is a fuck?” donghyuck furrowed his eyebrows together, evidently confused as to what this strange new word meant. jaemin faltered, taken aback, “wait, dude, you look like you’re, what, seventeen, and you have no idea what fuck means?” donghyuck looked at jaemin like he was an idiot, “never gotten the chance to interact with a lot of other seventeen year olds.” jaemin nodded solemnly, “can relate. only got this loser for a friend.” jaemin hooked a thumb in your direction. you rolled your eyes. 

“let us begin the spell! i feel like i’m conducting a child gender reveal party,” he exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together with glee. you held up your hand.

“hold the fuck up, you’re not performing this spell! one of us could DIE!” you exclaimed.

“there’s the word fuck again. kinda catchy.” donghyuck tested it out under his breath. “any other new words?” he asked. jaemin opened his mouth, no doubt to actually teach donghyuck how to swear, and well, you weren’t exactly opposed to letting him, but not dying came higher than teaching people you just met how to swear on your priority list.

“don’t worry. there’s only a slight chance that you’re soulmates anyway, and it’s better to know than to remain in oblivion. i’m not kidding.” “ignorance is bliss?” you suggested, desperate to stop donghyuck. “no, y/n. i think… if we indeed are soulmates, we deserve to know. i want to at least know why i died if i do suddenly die.”

“i have heard of that saying, y/n, was it? say, can fuck be used as a noun, a verb or an adjective?” “any way you want,” jaemin grinned, “reality can be anything you wish it to be!” “sweet,” donghyuck plonked a cauldron of unknown origin onto the table, “i like that word already.”

pulling a ladle out of seemingly nowhere, donghyuck pointed said ladle at you, “what’s your favourite flower?” you stared at him blankly, “you need that for the spell? i don’t really have a preference.” donghyuck rolled his eyes, “no, i was just curious. if you’re interested, your aura says daisy and jaemin’s absolutely screams carnations. for the record, i have zero idea what those flowers mean, but who cares?” he waved an arm over the cauldron which then proceeded to bubble, pushing dandelions and carnations to the surface. white. all white. “pretty enough, i suppose. i don’t usually give my services discounted, so you can just teach me some new words and it’s a deal.”

as you thought back, you did have a small memory of making flower crowns with jaemin. you often made daisy crowns, while jaemin’s were, as far as you knew, carnations. they were always given to you, all his carnation-based flower accessories: crowns, necklaces, bracelets. 

you were jerked back to the present and away from distant memories as jaemin helpfully, or not so helpfully, instructed donghyuck on how to swear, “so, motherfucker is a noun. the verb equivalent is motherfucking, but that’s usually used as an adjective anyway. can also be shortened to mf. bitch is a more female-specific curse word since its original meaning was something along the lines of female dog.”

“i thought dogs were nice,” donghyuck pointed a finger aggressively at the bubbling liquid inside the cauldron, flowers obscuring most of its contents, “this always takes way too fucking long to boil so i can’t do anything. how perfectly bitchy of it.” jaemin’s face lit up with that mischievous smile you were so used to, “you’re a natural!” “why, thank you.” you had to be imagining things. either that, or your ears were waterlogged. shaking your head wildly, all you got was a headache, so no, your ears weren’t waterlogged. and so the two boys before you were complimenting each other casually on their ability to swear, even as one’s existence was against the law and the other was the prince of your kingdom. because that was not… strange. not strange at all.

“why don’t you teach him things like crap, hell and damn? why… fuck and bitch?” donghyuck had settled into an armchair by the fire, snapping his fingers every minute or so to keep the cauldron’s contents boiling, “you want to learn the interesting shit. like, you know, if i can learn shit and motherfucker then why am i learning crap and hell and damn? they sound lame compared to bitch, fuck and shit.” donghyuck shrugged, you sighed, and jaemin nodded like he’d birthed and raised donghyuck for seventeen years just for this moment. 

“i mean, my parents don’t let me curse, but it’s fun to see them mad sometimes.” jaemin shrugged. you shook your head at the boy next to you (we shall omit the fact that he learnt half his curse words from you, and the other half from the legendary crown prince’s speech in which he accidentally swore half a dozen times in front of the whole nation. doyoung got grounded, but it made jaemin, and by extension you, developed a heck of a lot more respect for him.) you watched quietly as the two boys exchanged details about their lives and excitedly swore together. unconsciously, you started shivering again, your clothes still not quite dry. jaemin noticed, and picked up the blanket laid across his lap, wrapping it around your shoulders, making sure the blanket was secure around you before turning back to donghyuck. you learnt he also liked to be called haechan or hyuck, lived out here all his life, and didn’t know much about the kingdom from having to stay hidden from the world. jaemin’s expression held a hint of guilt, knowing that he was a member of the family that had caused huyck's plight.

“ooh! the spell is done!” hyuck clapped, and scrambled to his feet, once again doing the weird shrug thing, skipping over to the cauldron. his hair bounced and jaemin snickered while you quieted him. you shrank back into the couch as the sounds from the caldron became louder and donghyuck’s eyes started to sparkle. jaemin grabbed your hand, palms slightly sweaty. donghyuck peered into the large metal bowl, and smiled. his smile made you a bit uneasy. 

“ready?” he asked the two of you, and jaemin nodded while you hesitated. 

“yes.” 

nothing happened for a moment and haechan waved his hands over the flower-filled water, mumbling some ancient words. you watched, eyes wide, as the water came out in a stream, winding around the circumference of the small cottage, and then around you and jaemin’s hands. you gasped, as the water was ice cold though it was boiling just moments ago. a daisy settled on jaemins wrist, wrapping around it tightly. a carnation wrapped around your finger, like it’s own special promise to you. jaemin frowned.

“is that supposed to mean something?” he asked, tugging at the flower. it didn’t move or tear. haechan eyes doubled in size as his eyes zeroed in on the flowers. 

“you’re… you’re soulmates.” 

jaemin stood there in shock, and shook his head. “no way. we’re best friends.” he protested. your heart was slightly crushed, as you liked him for a few months now. who wouldn’t? “we can’t be soulmates. no way.” he shook his head again, as if to clear away the water clogging his ears. you let go of jaemin’s hand. your heart was hammering, matching the raindrops that pelted to the ground.

“are.. are you sure?” you asked, voice wavering. haechan nodded. your hands were shaking now, and jaemin was ignoring you. “can i… may i lie down?” you asked, twirling a finger around your long strands of hair. donghyuck nodded, pointing you to what you assumed to be his room. as you slipped off, you heard jaemin and donghyuck whisper something together.

the next few days you didn’t see much of jaemin, only when he came out of the library to get food. even those days were rare, as he often ate in there, or brought his lunch in during the morning. and each day, jaemins face looked more and more pale. the flowers had vanished, though they left marks on where they rested just a week ago. you cast a glance down the empty hallway to the library, feet hesitating. you made up your mind, pushing open the large oak doors and… found jaemin passed out on the ground. 

you gasped, rushing over and checking his temperature. it was abnormally normal, though he was sweating. you called a maid over, and soon you found yourself in the hospital wing. how were you going to break it to his parents that their younger son was sick because you two were soulmates. the thought itself was ridiculous.

“is jaemin okay?” well, fuck you, he’s obviously not. an undertone of worry was detected from the trained calmness of doyoung’s voice. the king and queen had yet to arrive, and doyoung stood behind you, hand resting on your shoulder in a slightly failed attempt to calm you. quick breaths left you, panic filling your mind and cluttering your lungs. the crown prince patted at your shoulder awkwardly, turning to leave as he couldn’t really do much. besides, it was fairly obvious the two of you needed to be alone.

as the day faded into night, jaemin was still, not moving as you watched him, hands grasping at your hair. this was all your fault. no, it was that bitch of a witch named donghyuck. he cast the spell. you wanted to blame jaemin for not accepting that you were soulmates, and now he was going to die because of it. 

obviously, you hadn’t had a soulmate before. but you could sense it, you knew that no matter what jaemin had done, you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him. to love so hard you’re falling, but you know you’re flying. you’re not there yet, definitely not. there was an inkling of the possibility of that happening, though. you barely blamed jaemin for everything (which was mostly his fault anyway), and staring at the pale complexion of the boy in front of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay angry. you slipped your hand into his (see? can’t help it. this was all because you were soulmates, and totally not because you just wanted to.), and as storybook-esque as it was, it felt so right. a maid brought you dinner, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scoop the rice and noodles into your mouth. your stomach was protesting, but you didn’t care, resting your head on your arm, you clutched jaemin’s hand tightly. tears pricked at your eyes, and this time, you didn’t stop them. 

doyoung came by again in the morning and found you awake, dark blue and purple eyebags obnoxiously present. “have you been here the whole night?” you stretched, not letting go of jaemins limp hand, back aching from the uncomfortable position you were in for the whole night.

“is there a wrong answer?” you asked, yawning as you spoke. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples. 

“he’ll survive, y/n. it’s just sickness. we have the best doctor-”

“it’s not just a sickness!” you snapped, fire igniting in your stomach, the need to protect haechan slowly shrinking. you found yourself telling the oldest prince everything from getting caught in the rain, jaemin having a breakdown, the walk in the woods, to finding the cottage, and even the witch you encountered, though his existence was very much illegal. doyoung listened. he listened to every word, and nodded along, though his eyes were slowly going from panicked to angry.

“so, you found a witch, donghyuck, was it?” you nodded in confirmation, death gripping jaemin’'s hand. if he ever woke up he would for sure scold you for making his dominant hand ache. “he cast a soulmate spell, and jaemin didn’t accept. so now the gods are punishing him?” you nodded again. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples again. you watched anxiously, worried for donghyuck’s safety.

“could you get donghyuck to come here?” doyoung asked. that is not what you were expecting. blinking nervously, you nodded. you remembered the path jaemin took, right? if not, you could just shout. 

“do you promise not to kill him? or like, arrest him? he’s an annoying motherfucker, but i think jaemin would be sad if you did,” you inhaled. doyoung nodded with a perfectly straight face. “he could turn you into a frog.” you added, deciding to trust him. doyoung looked a bit shocked, but you reluctantly stood up. “i’ll be back.” you whispered to jaemin, leaving doyoung to look after his brother. 

setting off in the woods alone was scarier than you thought. shivering, you really wished you had jaemin in that moment. really wished. the sooner you got to donghyuck, the sooner he would be better, right? wrong.

“what do you mean you can’t remove the spell?” you shrieked, panic filling you once again. donghyuck looked sorrowful, and doyoung was standing with his arms crossed off in the corner. 

“i can’t, i’m sorry, y/n. jaemin has to realize he loves you for the sickness to go away. and either way, all my spell did was prove that the two of you were soulmates. the sickness stems from the heavens” 

“i have to what?” jaemin’s voice cracked slightly from not using it for the past few days. “jaemin!” you practically sobbed, hand clenching around his fingers from where you’d reached for them unknowingly. he squeezed back weakly, coughing. “what do i have to do?” 

“realize you love y/n.” haechan said simply. 

“i don’t think it works like that!” your voice came out slightly higher than usual, laughing nervously to stop jaemin from feeling uncomfortable. he had to, love didn’t work as such. you just didn’t decide to go, ‘okay today i have decided i love y/n!’ jaemin looked at donghyuck with visible confusion. all haechan offered was a half shrug in return. 

“what happens if i don’t?” jaemin whispered. haechan glanced at doyoung, nervous that someone so high and regal was standing in the same room as him - jaemin didn’t count, seeing as he’d spent the first hour of knowing hyuck teaching him to swear, and he wasn’t the crown prince anyway - if he did or said the wrong thing, he would definitely get executed. 

“we’ll get there when we get there. how long does he have?” doyoung asked. you gripped jaemin’s hand tighter, nervous of the answer. “it… depends?” donghyuck offered. doyoung scowled. “very helpful.” “i’m sorry, i’ve never had to deal with this kind of fuckery before,” donghyuck waved his hands around, “okay, swear i’m not doing magic, but i really didn’t cause any of this. okay. maybe a bit. but it would have happened anyways.” your eyebrow lifted. 

“what do you mean, anyways?” jaemin asked, frowning.

“the soulmate spell only helps the soulmates find each other. and gets the show on quicker, but a year from now, the same thing would’ve happened.” haechan explained, still waving a hand. doyoung’s eyebrows knitted together. “so, jaemin and y/n should spend as much time together as they can.” hyuck concluded. 

“and die faster?” jaemin snarled. haechan shook his head quickly, eyes straying to the other royal member in the room.

“no, if you spend more time together, then it’ll slow down until you realise you’re in love. usually, you get only a week, but if you spend every day together, it’s up to… a month?” haechan shrugged, letting the slightest hint of resentment slip into his voice, “maybe i’d know better if i actually could come out of hiding to be taught by more experienced witches. my work here seems to be done anyway, adios!” it was like donghyuck was born to be a showman. he ripped the curtains off and disappeared under them with a flash, letting the rich fabric settle slowly to the ground. doyoung sighed. 

“well, you guys heard what he said. spend as much time together as you can.” doyoung shrugged. “and jaemin, try not to die.” doyoung added, a small smile playing at his lips, like he knew something you didn’t. jaemin nodded, head thrown back onto the plush pillows. you frowned, jaemin usually loved to hang out with you. something definitely changed over the last few weeks.

try not to die, he said. well, you were definitely dying inside. and jaemin wasn’t getting any better, coughing, occasional throwing up, and sneezing. he barely could keep his food down, let alone sit up without any help. it worried you. it worried you a lot more than you let on. to say things were awkward was putting it lightly. everyone avoided the two of you, seeing the tension held over your and jaemin’s heads. you started to get fed up after a few days. 

“what happened? aren’t you supposed to be with jaemin?” doyoung asked as you stormed downstairs. 

“he’s not talking to me. what’s the harm in taking a small break?” you exhaled, running a hand through your now messy hair. doyoung frowned, the worry lines creasing his forehead. “don’t worry, i’m going back to the ward in half an hour. it’s just so… infuriating.” you ranted to the crown prince, resting your head on the stairwell railing. doyoung had stopped you half way down the stairs. “we’re soulmates for god's sake! can’t he just… talk to me? when did he start to see me as a bother? when did he… start to hate me? it’s like we never were friends. i miss him, doyoung. i miss my best friend. i miss his smile, his laugh, his weird antics, i miss my jaemin.” you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes for the third time today. jaemin being sick and ignoring you while, quite literally, on his deathbed did not help. especially since you two were soulmates. 

“when did you start to fall in love with him?” doyoung questioned softly. you thought for a moment. when did you truely start to love jaemin? not in the rain. not when you had your first fight when you saw him. no, it started a while ago. when jaemin started to grow up. when you stopped making flower jewelry and when he started to give you real gems. when? you weren’t exactly sure. maybe you always loved him. maybe he always loved you. but when would he figure that out? doyoung just nodded, understanding your confused gaze, unfocused and misty-eyed. he stood up, brushing his black slacks and deep red shirt. “give him a bit. jaemin is a bit slow with these kinds of things.” you only nodded in response, mindlessly walking back to the ward jaemin was residing in. 

jaemin still was not getting any better the next few days. he still refused to talk to you, only nodding or rolling his eyes as a response to you trying to start to converse. you were starting to lose hope. 

you were surprised to see him lying on the cold tiled ground. 

“jaemin, why are you on the ground? you should be in bed. it’s cold out.” you scolded, moving towards him. jaemin held up a hand, draping his hands over his stomach.

“the floor is nice and cold,” he uttered, sighing with relief as the tile cooled his sweaty body down. you frowned, huffing. jaemin, once again, did not listen.

“the ground is dirty. i can turn down the heat-” jaemin cut you off. 

“shut up! i’m dying, i don’t care if the ground is dirty!” jaemin hissed, and you backed up, saddened by his tone. jaemin didn’t notice, too busy coughing into his elbow to notice your state.

“you’re not going to die,” you whispered, and jaemin moved his elbow away. “you’re not. i refuse to let you. i don’t care if you don’t love me right now, but you’re my soulmate, jaemin. soulmate. do you know how many people wish to have soulmates? jaemin, i’ve been by your side since we were in diapers. we played in the mud together. we got in trouble together. we did everything together,  jaemin. i watched you grow up. i watched you become more responsible. i watched, and i waited for you to confess. but you never did, so now you’re sick, and it’s all your fault. don’t push the blame on me, on donghyuck, or on anyone. this is on you. if you want to sit here and wallow in your self-pity, go ahead. i’m tired, jaemin. i tried to give you time, but you only have three weeks left. i don’t…” you choked on your words. “i don’t know what i’ll do if you ever die suddenly.” you whispered, backing out of the door. jaemin struggled to his feet, but you were already gone, ends of your hair and dress flowing behind you. 

he stared at the empty spot where you’d been just moments before, feeling the same emptiness in his heart. bitterness welled up from within him. he wasn’t that dumb either, but love just didn’t work that way. just because some spell told you that you were soulmates didn’t necessarily mean that with a magical click of your fingers you’d stare into each others eyes and sappily declare your everlasting love.

doyoung stepped out from nowhere, looking around with a confused expression, “where’s y/n? i swear i saw her here just a few minutes ago.”

“hey, hyung.” doyoung hummed in response. jaemin sat up with some difficulty, holding a hand up to stop doyoung from trying to help him, “what if this sickness has got nothing to do with the soulmate fuckery? what if i just, uh, have the plague or something?”

“have the plague or something,” doyoung drawled sarcastically, “the last time the plague was going around was, like, a hundred years ago.” jaemin winced.

“or maybe i have cancer.”

“or maybe,” doyoung narrowed his eyes at his brother, “you’re just being a fatheaded dick who can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re soulmates with your best friend, and have to realise your love for each other so you don’t suddenly stop breathing!” doyoung stalked out of the room without a single word, pausing to seemingly contemplate whether slamming the (very heavy) oak door would help prove his point. he very intelligently settled on just stamping his foot. it made him look like a child, but jaemin hadn’t seen doyoung this upset in a while. and frankly, it got him thinking a bit. 

you walked into the hospital wing as usual without greeting jaemin. it wasn’t like you got a reply anyway. “hey,” the prince offered as you took up your usual spot by his bed with a book, a clear indication that you didn’t want conversation. 

your eyebrows twitched a little. granted, you weren’t expecting him to say anything, but it must be a testament to your friendship if your little blow up had at least gotten jaemin to think a little. you stared pointedly down at the book you didn’t even know the title of.

“y/n.” still no response. “you’re holding the book upside down,” jaemin sighed.

furious with yourself, you flipped the book the right side up again, “you don’t want to talk to me. stop forcing yourself to.”

“i do want to talk to you, okay? i don’t particularly want to die either, the soulmates idea is just hard to stomach.”

“what, does loving me sound so bad? am i so unlovable?” you slammed your book closed, trying not to choke on the shower of dust that came with it. logically, you shouldn’t be getting mad. jaemin was just trying to make things better, but he sounded so forced. “you sound so forced to do this, jaemin.”

“oh, are you getting mad at me now? you were sad because i wasn’t talking to you, and now you’re mad because i am! what the fuck am i supposed to do?” jaemin glared at you from underneath the covers, “i’m trying, okay? i thought you said you didn’t want me to die!”

“i don’t want you to die!” you hissed back at him, tears springing to your eyes again.

“are you crying again? if every time we talk you get that sad, then maybe you should just let me die!”

you dusted yourself off and ran out of the room, not even bothering to give jaemin an answer. why didn’t he get it? it’s not that hard to understand! (when else but) on your way out, you bumped into (who else but) doyoung, crying (what else but) angry tears. again. you really had to stop doing that.

to nobody in particular, doyoung whispered, “why are they so angsty?”

“we need to talk,” doyoung declared the moment he walked into the room in one of the pockets of time that you weren’t in it. jaemin looked up from the extremely interesting loose thread on his blanket and nodded, “what about?”

“y/n.”

jaemin’s expression darkened in a nanosecond. “no,” he practically growled, “not her again. i can figure this out myself, doyoung hyung! you don’t have to help me.”

“if you can figure this out yourself, the two of you wouldn’t be the embodiment of every sad angsty book ever written.”

“it’s our way of coping with things.” the words sounded fake even to jaemin’s own ears.

“no,” doyoung deadpanned, “don’t fuck around with me.” he hissed, “you know she cries every time you give her unwanted insults. let’s count how many times i ran into her, sometimes quite literally, in the hallway with her crying. one, the day you two got lost in the woods. two, when you were passed out and unresponsive, three, a few days after you woke up and weren’t talking to her, four, literally yesterday after you basically told her she was unlovable.” doyoung held up his fingers mockingly and it felt like jaemin had just been slapped in the face. “four times, na jaemin. four times you fucked up, four times y/n felt worthless, four times more than needed. four times. thats more than anything that happened in the last 16 years of your friendship. four times in less than a month. get your shit together, jaemin.” doyoung snapped, and spun around on his heel. jaemin felt like everyone was against him at this point. 

a week passes and hey, what did you know? some improvement was showing. you and jaemin could hold, an (albeit very awkward, but still) a conversation. it was a relief to you, but you were slightly suspicious of him. jaemin still couldn’t look you in the eyes, glancing away or inspecting his nails. but you couldn’t ask anymore of him, he went from straight out ignoring you, to asking how your day went. jaemin sent you a small smile, fiddling in his seat. 

“how… how are you?” jaemin asked, glancing at your features shyly. you smiled, though it felt more forced than genuine. 

“i’m good. have you been getting better?”

“well, you know. not really,” jaemin shrugged, not looking at you, “it hasn’t been getting worse either, though.”

you ignored the way jaemin was pointedly avoiding your gaze and offered a half smile you didn't really mean, “the weather isn’t very good today, is it?” the weather hadn’t been really good for the past week or so. even if you weren’t spending every waking (and sleeping) moment by jaemin’s side, you wouldn’t have been able to go out of the castle. the relentless rain pouring down on the windows made sure of that.

“y/n, i still think we have to talk.” jaemin’s expression turned serious, “i know i’ve been a dick these few weeks, and i’m not even going to try excusing myself for that. but i want you to know that no matter what, i still treasure you a lot as my best friend. i think i just need time - okay, admittedly we haven’t got very much of that left, about a week and a half or so, but i struggle with feelings. i really struggle a lot and it’s overwhelming and i miss you so much, i miss talking to you not-awkwardly and i want our old relationship back.”

you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry again, because god knows you’ve cried too much. “okay then,” you laughed lightly, “if you’re going to make this a deep sentimental talk, just know that i’m willing to wait for you for as long as you need. sadly this isn’t up to me.”

jaemin remained silent for a bit, taking in what you just said. when he spoke again, you were shocked. “do you think i love you?”

you cocked your head, “what i think doesn’t matter. the question is what do you think?”

“i want to know what you think.”

knowing he wasn’t going to let you go until you told him so, you sighed, “i think you do.”

“platonically or romantically?”

“my father wants my help in the kitchens, your highness. i’ll see you later.”

it was raining again, and you didn’t show up in his room like normal. jaemin was worried, and he got out of his bed clumsily, grabbing a cane, which he winced at. he looked like an old man with it. drawing back the heavy velvet curtains, the glass of his widow was covered in water droplets, all racing to the window sill. jaemin spotted you running around the courtyard, mouth open with a muted laugh and eyes sparkling even though you were soaked to the skin. jaemin found himself smiling, watching you with fond eyes. his senses kicked in, and he realized. he was truly, and utterly, with every fiber of his being, every cell in his body, in love with you. with his best friend. with the person who stuck by him all these years. who loved all his flaws and imperfections. he, na jaemin, second prince in line, never to sit on the throne (he didn’t mind that part), was in love with you. a cook's daughter, a commoner, but most importantly, his soulmate. 

when you came inside, your teeth were chattering and you were shivering all over, but it was the happiest you’d felt in a while. nothing was better than dancing in the rain, really, except dancing in the rain with jaemin. that now… that was a hundred times better, but na jaemin was sick, so you’d have to forgo that. practically waltzing into jaemin’s room, you grinned at him, your good mood making you forget all the awkwardness. he was just your best friend, your best friend of so many years. awkwardness who?

“jaems!” it might have been the prior realization of love making jaemin completely disregard any tension that might have been between the two of you earlier, but he grinned back at you just as happily as you’d greeted him, “y/n!” he frowned, pretending he hadn’t been watching you from his window just a few minutes prior because that was borderline creepy, “why are you all wet?”

“i danced in the rain. oh god, jaemin, do you remember that time when we were dancing together in the rain and then decided to use a banana leaf as an umbrella but we got wet anyway? and then-” 

“and then,” jaemin picked up seamlessly from where you left off, the grin not disappearing, “doyoung hyung came to check on us because he was scared we’d catch colds from running around in the rain all day. then we slipped and fell into the mud, splashing him all over.”

you laughed, a light tinkling sound that reminded jaemin again of why he loved you, “i swear the mud mask made his skin better.”

jaemin practically screeched with laughter, “you mean you’ve been looking at my brother’s skin?”

the overwhelming love and affection you felt for your best friend in that moment, both platonically and romantically, made you throw your arms around him, instantly soaking him through with your wet clothes. somehow, the two of you ended up sprawled on his bed. 

“you know what? i love you.” jaemin sighed, snuggling into your embrace. your ears burned red. 

“you.. you what?” you asked timidly. you really hoped jaemin said what you thought he said. jaemin smiled, leaning back more, adjusting the position the two of you were in. you now were snuggled into his chest, sighing as you felt your eyelids droop. jaemin chuckled lowly, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“i’ll be here when you wake up.” he whispered softly. you fell asleep, mind calm for once. 

“jaemin- okay, you can explain why y/n’s soaking your bedsheets through and the both of you are completely drenched in rainwater first,” doyoung arched an eyebrow, “have y’all finally gotten your shit together?”

“i think i love her, hyung,” jaemin’s arm curled protectively around you, “really.”

doyoung clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval, “you think? be sure of it, jaems. i’ve practically raised the two of you and watched you grow up, and now you say you only think you love her?”

“i love her.” jaemin struggled to hold back the laugh that was threatening to spill out of his chest. “i love her!” he repeated again, louder this time. seeing the finger doyoung had to his lips, he quietened down to prevent waking you up, “thank you, hyung. for knocking some sense into me.”

doyoung smiled, “anytime. it’s my job, after all. now, i think you two need some alone time. see you at dinner, i truly doubt you’ll still be sick.”

you were awakened by the sound of the door closing. rubbing your eyes tiredly, you looked around, disoriented, “did someone come in?”

“it’s nothing, y/n. just a servant. sleep, i love you.”

you yawned, “i love you too.” and you snuggled back under the covers with him, acting like it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

“hey,” jaemin whispered in your ear, waking you up gently, “i hate to have to wake you up, but dinner’s in a few. my parents want to see you too, apparently.”

you blinked the sleep away from your eyes, looking at his smiling face. waking up to jaemin’s smile was something you could get used to, you thought. “what?”

“i said, we have to go get ready for dinner. you too, yes, main banquet hall, my parents want to see you.”

your mouth dropped open, all thoughts of sleep gone, “i don’t have clothes suitable for a fancy dinner!”

“oh yes you do. wear that yellow dress with the sunflowers.”

“is that formal enough?”

“y/n, like, you’ve literally talked to my parents so many times. they watched you grow up. they’re not so different from doyoung and i.”

“but this is the first time meeting them as your girlfriend!” oh god, did you really just say that? you cringed inwardly. you hadn’t even put a label on the relationship yet. rushing to make amends, you stuttered out, “soulmate. i mean soulmate.”

“you’ve always been my soulmate. as for girlfriend, well, you can be if you want to, but we have explaining to do. now move! the entire bed is wet!”

with strength a sick person shouldn’t possess, jaemin threw you out of his bed playfully. you looked up in shock and happiness, “you’re well again! you’re not sick anymore!”

jaemin grinned down at you from his bed, “we realised our love. see you in twenty, adios, au revoir, zaijian, sayonara!” yelling at the top of his lungs, he pushed you out of his room and slammed the door, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you were flying (figuratively, of course), drunk on the sentiments of finally realising your feelings for your best friend and soulmate.

growing up in the castle had taught you some things about manners, especially when the queen insisted you attend some etiquette lessons together with jaemin (to keep him in check, she’d said). dropping into a deep curtsey in front of the royal family, you rose again when the king placed a warm hand on your shoulder, “get up, y/n. we’re all family here, there’s not need for such formalities. you never really did those before either.”

“i was eight and didn’t know much about manners,” you protested lightly as he steered you into your seat beside jaemin, then taking his own at the head of the table - the king’s seat.

you ate in silence and as fast as you could without being rude. nobody made a move to break the silence, so you sat and waited until the last of the plates had been cleared away by the servants, then leaned forward, “if it isn’t rude to ask, may i know why i’ve suddenly been called here for dinner?”

the queen smiled kindly at you, “of course not, dear. well, today we have two announcements to make, one of which concerns you.” she glanced at the king, who inclined his head at her with a smile as if to say “the floor is all yours, dear.” the queen turned back to you, and seeing the dying rays of last light hit her face, you were again reminded of how beautiful the queen was. “firstly, about doyoung. now, we all know that my dear son here is turning twenty one in a month’s time and has finished his education. and so, doyoung, my son, your father has decided to pass on the kingdom to you. the announcement to the people will happen in a few days’ time, if you agree, and the coronation shall be held on your birthday. you are a much beloved crown prince, and i am sure the news of your coronation will delight the kingdom. i do hope you accept. so,” she practically glowed with pride, staring at the shell-shocked prince, “do you?”

“it would be an honor, mother. but didn’t father say he enjoyed being king?” doyoung, the rightful heir to the throne and the one who’d been trained for this his entire life, looked shocked, to say the least. you couldn’t blame him; it must’ve felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“your mother and i have long been dreaming of a proper honeymoon in the carribean. away from the eyes of the public,” his father’s voice boomed encouragingly.

“then yes, i accept,” doyoung’s eyes were shining with tears and you really hoped he wasn’t about to cry. knowing him, once he started crying, he wouldn’t stop and that would really… kill the mood. 

“cheers to king doyoung,” jaemin raised his glass of juice (seventeen is not of a legal age to consume alcohol) to the sky, looking elated for his brother, “and for heaven’s sake, king doyoung, don’t cry!”

doyoung sniffled a little, holding his own goblet of wine to his brother’s, “i won’t cry! thank you so much!”

“congratulations,” you grinned at doyoung, who’d been just as much your elder brother all these years as he’d been jaemin’s. just in the past month, he’d slapped the two of you so hard to get your shit together, and he should honestly be crowned fairy godmother of the year. except that he wasn’t old, didn’t have white hair pulled up into a bun, and (sadly) didn’t own wings.

“now for our second announcement. doyoung’s explained everything to us already, i hope you don’t mind.” doyoung grinned guiltily at you over the table - honestly! like he’d done anything wrong! “you’re obviously too young for marriage, but y/n, your parents, whom i’ve just talked to, and us - we give you all our blessings. let this relationship prosper!”

jaemin squeezed your hand in his assuringly with a victorious smile like he’d known all along that this would’ve happened. you choked back a sob of your own, “thank you! thank you so much.”

“we’ve never known that soulmates existed, but now that we do know, there isn’t a truer pair than you and y/n,” she addressed jaemin, “treat her well.”

“i swear, mother, you love her more than you love me,” jaemin half-groaned, ignoring his mother’s angelic smile and reply (“i do not! i merely prefer to be around her.”)

“to the new king and couple!” jaemin’s father raised his goblet for another cheer, and you downed your drink in one gulp. tilting your head to grin at jaemin, you thought there really couldn’t be any happier moment in the world.

©danishmiilk, 2020. ©astroboy-lele, 2020.

[random-imagines-blog]

Hysteria {Henry Wu x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2793 Summary: You’re an up and coming scientist hand chosen by Henry Wu to be a part of his team at Jurassic World. But you feel for him in ways more than a boss and a team member should. Warnings: Contains spoilers of Jurassic World; and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

You had the feeling that something bad was going to happen the whole time that you were working on the top secret project with Dr. Henry Wu. But you wanted to trust it because you trusted him whole-heartedly. The Indominus Rex was really a huge innovation in genetics, and you were honored to be a part of it. Being one of the younger scientists working inside of Jurassic World meant that you were often skipped over, considered to be too youthful to have the experience needed. But Dr. Henry Wu took a chance on you, and you had proved yourself, becoming one of the head scientists on the project. And you were very grateful to him for doing that. Maybe grateful wasn’t the right word. You weren’t an English major, but perhaps the word you were looking for was smitten. That seemed to fit the ticket.

Who wouldn’t be attracted to an older, very intelligent and handsome mentor? You admired his brain as well as that crooked smile that he rarely had in the lab but seemed to give to you a couple of times a month. With his serious demeanor, you couldn’t ask for much more than that. The only thing that you didn’t fully admire was his constant need to put the work in front of lives. Not only those of the other scientists, working you day and night on little sleep to get a project done and not alerting others to what sort of DNA he was extracting. But those of the patrons of the park. He wasn’t in it for the people, the fame, the money. He was in it for the creativity. The mad genius, some of your colleagues would call him behind his back.

But as long as things continued on smoothly, things should be fine. As long as the Indominus Rex remained in it’s area, things would be okay. As long as nothing in the slightest went wrong... things should be okay.

But chaos started to happen. Voices came over the loud speaker that the project you had been working on with Henry, the very dangerous dinosaur that you had created - it was loose.

Henry didn’t want to go. After he had been told that there was a helicopter ready to take you and him off to safety, he stayed standing around, watching the chaos. “Dr. Henry, we really should go,” You said, putting your bag with your few personal belongings and some scientific equipment over your shoulder. It seemed unlikely that you would ever be returning here. All of your work - and it was just going to get killed. You couldn’t bear to watch, though you understood how much of a danger the Indominus Rex could be if out of its confines. Safety first, science second.

“All of this ... exists because of me,” He said, looking at the monitors which would probably be shut down very soon. “And now, it will be gone.”

“But think of what else that you could create out there,” You said, watching as the last of the other scientists left. You would be missing the flight if you stayed much longer. And this was not a place you wanted to be if your creation was still wandering around. “But you’re not going to have a chance to if you don’t get your butt on that chopper!”

He sighed, but he did eventually give you a smile. “Go and save me a seat,” He asked and you nodded, taking his permission to leave. But as you walked through the white halls, then ascended the staircases, you wondered if he was going to pull some sort of stunt. Try to stay behind and save all of his work. The chopper was almost filled, and you jogged towards it, a man extending his hand to help you aboard. You took it and took your seat, noticing that there was only one left. You put your bag on your lap, secured your seatbelt and waited, just hoping, just hoping...

Eventually the door to the roof opened, and Wu came jogging, only a single bag with him. He seemed a little out of breath as he approached the chopper, and this time you were the one that got up and offered your hand, pulling him aboard. He collapsed next to you, wiping a bit of sweat off of his forehead. “Thanks,” He said, and you nodded in response.

-

You continued to work with Dr Wu on many different projects, but most of them concerned dinosaurs. You had different agendas, him wanting to see how far that he could take science, and you having an actual love of the dinosaurs. You grew very invested in each and every one, so the events that happened at Jurassic World had broken your heart. But at least you still had your specimens, your DNA, all of it, in the lab. You practically lived there now, as did Henry. Living off of take out and taking turns sleeping on a small couch took a bit of a toll but you wouldn’t change where you were for the world.

“Did you finish the chinese food?” Henry asked. You looked over to see that he was deep in the only fridge that was for personal use, his rear sticking out beyond the door. You gave a grin at that, took out your cellphone and snapped a picture because the image was just a little too adorable for the otherwise-grumpy scientist. “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I did, sorry,” You said, putting your camera into the pocket of your ever-present white coat before he caught a glimpse of it. “Maybe we should go out for dinner tonight. How long has it been since you’ve set foot outside?”

The fact that Henry was silent, and actually had to think about it, made up your mind. “There’s an Italian place just down the street, we could walk? I know I need the exercise.”

“I guess I could use a break,” Henry said, and his stomach gurgled in response making you laugh. “I’ll be ready in .. twenty minutes?”

“Sounds good to me,” You said with a nod, and went to your own personal little cubby where you kept your belongings. Your heart was beating fast as you looked through your clothes to find something a little more special than what you usually threw on to be around the lab. Pushing past all of the white clothing, you spotted a bit of color. The blue dress that you wore to the opening of Jurassic Park years ago, still in it’s dry-cleaning bag. You unzipped it and took a look at the fabric, feeling it between your fingers, wondering if it still fit. Would it even be appropriate for something like this? Would Henry even notice that you were wearing something that wasn’t your usual lab attire?

So many questions went through your mind, and cut through a big chunk of time. Henry would be ready soon. So, as they say in science - fuck it. You pulled your coat off, and put on the dress, only to find that it fit absolutely perfectly, just like it had all of those years ago. You weren’t even sure why you had kept it for so long. You never had reason to dress up anymore - but then along came Henry, and though he wasn’t concerned much about what humans looked like, you wanted to have something just in case there was a chance. This was that chance.

You didn’t have the right footwear to go with it though, so you went with your walking shoes. They were better than your bulky lab boots anyway. A quick brush of the hair, a touch of chapstick, and you met up with him in the hallway. And to your surprise, he had dressed up somewhat as well. And if you didn’t know any better, you might think that he was blushing, just a little. “Are you ready?” He asked, in his usual upfront and business like manner, making you snap out of any hopes that you had. You gave a nod, and together, went out to the restaurant, staying close for warmth against the wind that had picked up in the last few minutes.

The dinner had gone well, and for the first time, he seemed to open up about things other than work. You’ve never heard about his childhood before, but he was giving you little glimpses into it. He had always had an affinity for science, and had originally thought about becoming an actual MD. But a trip to a museum and seeing the pictures of dinosaurs had opened up something in his brain, had started him on that course. You opened up a little about yourself as well, but you had never been as guarded about your life before work as he had been. Your own love of dinosaurs had come when you had heard about Jurassic Park. And you had made it your mission since then to work under the highly esteemed Dr. Henry Wu, and you completed that mission.

“It’s been an honor working with you,” He said, lifting his glass of wine to you.

“The honor is all mine,” You said, lifting your glass.

--

Things didn’t change with your new job. You followed Henry, as you would have to the ends of the Earth since you were completely crazy about him against your better judgment, to work for a private company. Creating dinosaurs for auction. God, it felt so wrong. You thought that every time that you ran tests, or experimented with the DNA. You were creating things that could destroy the world as you know it. Not just an island. Not just a park. But the entire world since you were on the mainland.

And things went wrong. The prototype was apparently sold, but then the dinosaurs began to escape because of a couple of former co-workers, and people around you were dying. Again.

“I think we need to stop, Henry,” You said from the driver’s side of the car that you stole, speeding away from the mansion, probably breaking about fifty laws while peeling out of there. And your heart broke at all of the lives that had been lost because of you and Henry. Because of what you had created. “All that we’re doing is killing people. We’re creating life, and then it’s getting destroyed so it’s barely even life at all.”

Henry remained silent for a couple of minutes, his head against the window, looking out in front of you. You knew you were lucky to have even gotten him out of there. All he wanted to do was run to the basement, where the dinosaurs were, and get the samples. But when you heard the bidding for the prototype, your brain had just completely given up on all of the work. You just couldn’t put yourself, or other people, in that position anymore.

“Pull over,” Henry requested, pulling you out of your thoughts. You still figured you were too close to the mansion to be anywhere near safe, but you moved the car to the shoulder of the road  nonetheless. You kept the key in the ignition but you turned the engine off to save gas. Or electricity, you didn’t even know - you didn’t check what kind of car it was.

“What is it?” You asked, looking over at him. His face was awash with orange light from the streetlight above him. He looked stressed, he looked a bit angry even.

“Without my work, I am nothing. That is something that you could never understand-”

“No, you’re right,” You interrupted. “That is something that I just - can’t understand. And I don’t even want to try. You put work above everything else, including the lives of other people. Including your own life. Like, Henry, do you not understand how lucky we are that we just got out of there? So many people didn’t make it.”

“I realize that-” Henry said, then it was like the enormity of the situation hit him. “They’ll be loose.”

“And it’s going to be a whole different world because of that,” You said with a frown. “And as the creator of these things... we’re probably going to be hunted down and put before the grumpiest jury to ever exist.”

“Fuck,” He said, rubbing his lips, running his hands through his hair. He was jittery, and it wasn’t from coffee. It was from the realization of what he, and you, had done.

“So we really need to get out of here and find somewhere to bunker down for a while,” You sighed. You wished you knew of a place where you could go, but nowhere would be welcoming to you right now. Your only intention was to drive and drive and drive and hope that the police were too busy with dinosaurs to realize that you were in a stolen car. As far away from here as possible.

“Shouldn’t we separate?” Henry asked. “It’s me they’re going to be coming for. You can still get out of this...”

“I’m just as responsible as you are - and I don’t have anyone else, Henry. And - I don’t want to be with anyone else. I’ve gotten quite adjusted to your company,” You admitted.

He looked at you for a long while. You could feel the weight and the intensity of that gaze, and it made you feel uncomfortable. Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel, waiting for him to say something.

“Let’s drive,” He said, and you nodded. It wasn’t what you had wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing. You started the car back up and continued along the road, watching as the sun started to come up on the horizon. People would be waking up and turning on the news soon. And their lives would be changed forever.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” You said, as you came to a stop at a red light. You looked over at Henry again only to find that he was still looking at you. He looked like he wanted to say something, which was an odd expression because he rarely ever took the time to stop and think about what was going to come out of his mouth. “What are you thinking?”

“That it doesn’t matter where we go,” He said, slowly. “I want you there.”

Your heart started to beat again, quickly, though it had just started to slow down to a normal pace. I want you there - those words would be echoing through your mind forever. “I love you.”

You hadn’t even meant to say it but it slipped out. Everything was coming out tonight. Dinosaurs, the disgusting and greedy nature of men to own everything - and the truth.

“You’re young,” Henry said after a moment’s silence. “I am nearly twice your age.”

“Exactly. I’m young, and you still took a chance on taking me on as a part of your team. That means that you saw something in me that a lot of people just refused to look at. But it’s okay if you don’t love me back, Henry, I can live with that. But I guess I couldn’t live without not telling you.”

Henry was not an emotional person. In fact, he was either very concentrated on his work, or he was frustrated from not being consumed by his work. It was one or the other, so you weren’t expecting much to come from him. He had even tried to give you a logical reason not to care about him. But love wasn’t the most logical thing in the world. He knew that from experience. You were in diapers while he was getting his PhD. He had no reason to be feeling things things for you. But yet...

“I love you too.” He said. And he reached out and put his hand on top of yours on the center console, his rough hands - cut up from broken beakers over the years - felt warm against yours. You took a glance over at him, feeling touched that he made even that little move.

The light turned green. You kept looking at Henry, up until there was an angry honk from a car behind you. You laughed and pressed down on the gas pedal, running away from your problems, and going towards the brand new world.

[urmomsmainbitch]

american idiot - chapter one

link to wattpad story // link to series masterlist // link to writing

word count: 2.7k

warnings: the bowers gang, weapons, violence, basically the whole thing (if you're not comfortable with violence or abuse -- which henry faces during the movies and during the book -- then i recommend you don't read, but i'll try to tag appropriately!)

a/n: i hope you don't think it's ass but this is probably going to come out every other friday or so but this is more of a trailer than the start of the actual series

HENRY DIDN'T REMEMBER a better time in his life than when he heard the news that Tommy 'Gun' Lee was coming back to Derry for the summer. To him, nothing topped the moment where is dad was slurring over his dinner (leftover hot dogs -- again), and let it slip that the "ungrateful little bitch" was coming back for a few months over the summer, and that "your whore of a mother" didn't mention if she was staying for the year or not.

He remembered huffing and puffing, grumbling something under his breath before excusing himself, and running to call Patrick like it was fucking Christmas morning.

Something about his darling little sister coming back made his heart race and a smile light up his face, and it was evident from the way he stepped into Derry Middle on the last day of school.

Oh, this summer would be perfect! His deal with Denbrough was over, the gang was all together, and his perfect sister was coming back from San Diego for the summer. Tommy Lee Bowers, he knew, would make this the best summer he;d ever had -- and by fucking God, he wasn't going to let anything stand in his way. Not that stuttering freak or the stupid Tozier kid who's mouth ran a mile a minute or his father's thriving alcohol addiction -- absolutely nothing.

His Tommy Gun would rule that fucking school the second she stepped in to pick him up, and every one knew it.

Word travels fast at Derry Middle, and when it got around that Bowers had a little sister coming, the first thing Bill Denbrough did was panic.

She couldn't be too different, could she?

The same blood ran through their veins, the same color skin on their bones, and most likely, the permanently upturned smirk tattooed to their lips. His hopes didn't improve when he saw the girl himself, waiting outside on the hood of Butch's car, throwing rocks at little kids passing by as she sat patiently for Henry to come outside.

He'd promised her a tour of the school -- it's only fair, he put it, that a queen knows her kingdom before taking it over. Henry had no doubt that Tommy would run the school when it was her time in September. A grade below Tits and the rest of his ugly friends, it would be more embarrassing than anything else to watch them suffer socially at the hands of a twelve year old girl.

(Henry very much looked forward to that moment. So much so, in fact, that he near goddamn skipped his way to the front of the school to open the door so they could start the tour. It helped that he was getting out of math class.)

It was only in the few moments before she walked in the door (immediately claiming the whole goddamn building with a footstep) that Bowers caught him by the bag and dragged him into the bathroom, away from the rest of the kids, and most likely, where he'd lay dying for the rest of the school day and foreseeable future (Stanley refused to shit in the school bathrooms, and seeing as he was the only one on this side of the building, he was screwed.).

Bill had never liked being alone with Henry Bowers. Nothing good ever came out of it, and he didn't want to stick around this time to find out why he'd been pulled into a bathroom and away from the rest of the student population. Henry let go of Bill's bag, letting him stumble around for a second or two before straightening up and backing him up against the wall.

"W-what d-d-do you w-want, B-Bowers?" Bill nearly spat, looking the older boy in the eyes. Henry's permanent smirk seemed to grow a few inches on either side, because he just chuckled softly -- albeit cruelly -- and looked down at the Denbrough boy. Bill could smell his breath, even though the two weren't standing particularly close to one another.

"Well, B-b-billy," he mocked, nearly laughing as he relaxed his posture a little bit and backed away from him. (Any one is passing who didn't know them might have said, "Hey, I bet those two boys are damn good friends.") "I have some news for you and your group of stupid fucking friends, and let me tell you" -- Henry stopped to laugh for a second, like he was cracking himself up -- "it's going to make your life a living hell."

Bill gulped. He didn't think, realistically, it could get much worse.

"You got a free ride this year because of your little brother," Henry reminded, smiling a little bit, seeming genuine. "But the ride's over Denbrough. This summer is going to be the worst summer of your entire life."

(Bill didn't expect him to say anything else -- but honestly, every summer was the worst summer of his entire life. He didn't catch a break from the older boy and his group of goons, but there was a feeling down in the pits of his stomach that told him that this time, this time, for real, was going to be the worst summer vacation he's ever going to have as long as he lives.)

"But I do have a little piece of extra advice I'm gonna give you."

Bill huffed. "You're so generous," he started, rolling his eyes, as he tried to walk out of the bathroom. Henry grabbed onto his backpack, "but I think I'll have to pass with this one."

He was cut off as Bowers kicked him on shin and onto the cold bathroom tiles. So much for being brave.

"I think you might want to hear this." Henry squatted down to look Bill in the eyes. There was still a hint of a smile on his face. Boy, this is gonna be good. "If you think I'm a pain in your ass--"

"I d-do think you're a p-pain in m-my a-ass."

Henry paused for a second, sending a menacing smile, and pushed him back on the ground as he got up and stepped over the boy on the floor, before beginning to make his way out of the bathroom before looking back, before lending Bill a hand to get up. He hesitantly took it and brushed off his pants, lips pressed tightly together as he looked at Henry. "Then you're gonna hate the girl sitting on Belch's car."

"Why's that?" Bill asked, feigning confidence, already knowing the answer. Henry could tell, just exhaling and giving him a big mischievous smile, hands behind his back.

"Not important, but she's not gonna be as nice as I am," he said with a grin, "but I'm just looking out for you, Billy Boy. Wouldn't want Tommy Gun to whip your ass without some working, right?"

With that, Henry left the bathroom, a smile plastered on his face as he went to greet his sister, and Bill raced out of there like his ass was on fire -- warning Richie not to talk to or about the pretty girl sitting on Belch's car.

-- -- --

"Best feeling ever!" Stan groaned, grinning ear to ear as he dumped out everything from his backpack. School had finally let out for the summer — no more stupid math classes or dumb reading assignments and annoying history tests, just Stanley and his bird book for three whole months.

A piece of his own personal heaven. Points if the pretty girl on Belch's hood was with him but hey, he wasn't picky.

"Really?" Richie asked with a grin on his face, "Try tickling your pickle for the first time." Eddie rolled his eyes, but Bill smiled. Stan let out another groan -- not a good one, this time -- even though, if he had to be honest, this seemed like it would be the best summer of his whole entire life.

Richie felt it too, if he were going to tell the truth (as he so rarely did -- or at times, so bluntly did), that this felt like it was going to the be the absolutely best summer he would have for the rest of his life. He had a whole checklist and everything for things he wanted to do (kiss some girls), things he wanted to see (some girls' boobs), and things he wanted to experience (there were a number of interesting things on this list).

And quite frankly, he felt as though every single thing on every one of his lists could be accomplished with the girl sitting on Belch Huggins' car hood, smiling mischievously as she watched the kids coming out of school.

God, did she really and truly look like an angel. Deep brown hair, straight in some parts and wavy in others, came down a little bit past her collarbone (not super cared for, but neither was his), cherry red lips, and a cute line of freckles going across the bridge of her nose. She was the most impressive tan he'd ever seen in his whole life, a very deep beige from the summer sun — even though it was only June.

The top part was being held up by some clip, and Richie could see his own Hawaiian shirt going over her tank top instead of the open button down she was wearing on top. It was lazy looking and careless and little bit disheveled, but that day, Richard Wentworth Tozier II was convinced he saw the hottest girl to ever be created.

Eddie interrupted his dream, snapping him back for only a second. "So what do you guys want to do tomorrow?"

"I start my training," Richie responded immediately.

"Training for what?"

"Street Fighter."

"You're going to spend your whole summer inside of an arcade?" Eddie couldn't imagine that prospect, but with Richie, anything was possibly -- no matter how disgusting it might seem.

"Beats spending it inside of your mother, oh!" Richie's goofy grin came back in an instant and leaned over for a high five from Bill when his hand was brought down by Stan. "And, 'course, my summer bucket list."

Eddie sent him a pity glance, "No girl's gonna let you fuck her this summer, Richie. If they have any brains at all, no girl is going to let you go within a ten foot radius of her without realizing what she's doing." Richie pressed his lips together. Of course Eddie would be cynical, it's just because — "and don't tell me that I think it because I just haven't hit puberty yet!"

Richie gave him a toothy grin, "Aw, shucks, Eddie Spaghetti, you know me so well. When you see a pretty girl, like say, that one over there—" he pointed discreetly towards the girl on the hood —"you'll get that feeling of butterflies in your stomach and just think, 'Wow, I've just seen an angel.' I don't mean Bowers, I just-"

"Yeah, you mean his little sister." Eddie looked up to Richie for a response, only to see him at a loss for words, jaw dropping and face paling.

For once, Richie Tozier was speechless as Eddie laughed and slapped his back as Bill mentioned something about the Barrens and Georgie and finding him — even though everybody had long accepted the fact that Georgie wasn't just missing.

It was like a switch. Everything changed in that instant. It was like she grew fangs and claws, and he watched Patrick look at her like she hung the fucking moon. It was incredibly painful, but he assumed, in a sense, they deserved each other. It took a second before he realized what this would actually mean for him: having to worry about a double in the hallways — a hot double that could potentially fool him into forgetting her Bowers-ness — and someone else to make fun of him in ways that he'd never tjough imaginable.

Sure, Bowers wasn't awfully bright, but he sure as hell was creative when it came down to it.

"Gunner!" Richie heard Bowers (the boy one) laugh as she shoved him in the side, cackling along herself, cigarette never leaving her mouth — opting just to talk out of the side of it.

Oh, so her name must have been Gunner. That's unfortunate, he thought to himself. But then again, she seems awful, so maybe she just deserves it. He smiled to himself. "Tommy Lee, we've gotta start heading out soon."

Wait, so was it Tommy Lee? Or was it Gunner? Was that just the gang's nickname for her? More importantly, if it was, why the fuck would they choose a name like Gunner for her? Nothing was settling about that fact, and although Richie wasn't typically one to spiral, it was hard to control himself.

"You didn't tell me you had friends, Henny!" Tommy exclaimed girlishly, making Patrick spit out his sofa and slam his hand on the car hood, flicking out her cigarette and letting Patrick snuff it out. She put a hand on her heart. "Oh, you've grown up so fast! I remember it was just yesterday you took a massive shit in that kids backpack and had to do forty hours of community service!"

Richie could tolerate a lot of things. One thing he couldn't tolerate though, was not being able to chime in when his story was being used and told all wrong — or mentioned without his name. Luckily, he was spared his intervention by a howling Belch Huggins.

"It was four eyes!" Huggins nearly screamed, warning a howling laugh from Tommy and shove from Victor, followed by a point led by Patrick. "Yeah, him!"

Richie could feel his face heating up, but before he could say anything, the bright blue TransAM was firing up the engine, and was getting ready to peel out of the school parking lot like a man man was driving.

Bill was the first to say anything. "Sorry about that, Rich. Bowers is a real asshole."

"So is his sister," he made out through his teeth.

Richie saw himself as a 'go with the flow' kind of guy, but goddamn it, he wasn't going to let Tommy Lee shit all over him and get away with it.

He was too stubborn, too arrogant, and too proud to let that happen, but with only a second or two of knowing she existed, he knew she was the exact same way. He could get tell it with the way she walked and talker and immediately took control of some of the scariest kids in Derry Middle.

But she wouldn't come out on top of this one.

There's no way. He refused to let it happen. Letting her win would show everyone else that he was just a loser who couldn't stand up to a girl who's was going to beat the living daylights out of him if he looked at her the wrong way.

She already had Henry and Patrick and Belch on her side — an even, if not better, match to four decently sized seventh graders. There was no excuse for them to get beat.

Grinding his teeth and tearing his eyes away from her, laughing mischievous and almost secretly as she put her cigarette out on Belch's hood as not to be noticed by he coo around the corner (Rich didn't know that the cop around the corner was her father who would beat her till she couldn't stand if he caught her smoking) he said, "So, Barrens tomorrow, right Bill?"

And right as Tommy Lee Bowers and her newfound gang pulled out of the parking lot, she and Richie Tozier locked eyes and made a silent pact — an agreement — something they both agreed on — something he'd be thinking about all night and the whole next morning:

Derry is two small for the two of us.

[thecrimsonjaguar]

A Short List of Adventure Time AUs

So I got a google doc of adventure time aus I’ve made over the past two or three years. Here are some of my favorites (and also the ones I came back to and edited)

If you’ve got ideas for an au or ideas to add onto the preexisting ones I’ve got here, please tell me! I’m always up for some au discussion. 

1.) Jermaine AU: Jermaine comes to live at the treehouse after his house blows up. This, unlike canon, happens rather early in season 3. The rest of the series mainly stays the same, except this time there's three brothers instead of two. He's a kinda anxious dude with demon hunting expertise and a painting hobby. He sometimes wonders if he made Dad disappointed by letting all his work explode. Finn and Jake help him out, and he helps them. Despite this, Jermaine is the only one with a brain, and Finn and Jake share exactly one (1) braincell that they trade every so often. Jermaine is tired. (Jermaine is the only one who tries to clean regularly, and he's also the one to keep Neptr, Ancient Psychic Tandem War Elephant, and a few others company. He's a bit of real wisdom the early series Finn and Jake needed.

2.) Melted Ice AU: Mid season two, IK is hit with something that de-ages him. He turns six. Maybe this mystery de-aging thing blows up the top of the ice mountain, who knows. Maybe he wakes up in the snow, with no memory of how he got there or why. No memory of the last one thousand years. Finn and Jake don't know about his backstory since that happens in season three. Simon is carried by a snowman out of the ice kingdom where he breaks down in the plains. Finn, of course, finds him and is ecstatic to meet another human. Completely missing the fact that this small child is, in fact, the Ice King, Finn declares to help this boy no matter what. That promise soon becomes difficult when people hear about the second human in Ooo, and whatever effect that's keeping him young starts to wear off. (Marceline comes to visit and has a heart attack)

3.) Adventure Falls AU: AT x GF baybee!! Seventeen year old Stanley Pines hops on the Stan O' War and sets sail when he's kicked out. Unfortunately, that boat is nowhere near sea worthy, and all it takes for him to go overboard is one sudden (magical) storm. But, miraculously, Stan doesn't die. He washes up on Ooo, the island of misfits. Where there's daddy issues galore and punching things and getting gold is a legitimate career. He's found on the shore by none other than Finn, who asks if he's okay and if a dungeon adventure would soothe his worries. Stan accepts, because that sounds awesome, and they maybe date. For the next ten years, Stanley is a professional hero. He travels with Finn, he lives in a tower with tons of gold, he's respected, adored, and has made a family for himself. Ooo has a habit of forcing traumatic therapy onto to people, so Stan gets (read: is forced) to work his issues out. And then, somehow, he gets a postcard from his brother.

4.) Young Pups AU: Jake's kids grow up fast- but not that fast. He stays with lady for a few episodes being Dad and when the Pups are old enough, go visit Finn and Jermaine. Also Jermaine is there when the pups are born that always bothered me in canon like what the fuck. This whole AU results in Jake the Dad being a better father than in canon, because he actually has time to make mistakes and learn from them. He sometimes shapeshifts into one of those baby carriers but suited for five kids instead of one. Finn and Jermaine fight for best uncle privileges. Finn is considerably more awesome but Jermaine's got magic junk and juicy stories about Jake. So far the votes are: FINN: Jake Jr, T.V.  JERMAINE: Kim Kil Whan, Charlie. Viola remains undecided.

4.) Evilgreen AU: Evergreen was evil. His idea to make the crown to stop the comet was actually a cover story to take control of all the elements and freeze everything. Of course the same thing happens here as it did in canon, Gunther gets the crown and wishes to *be* evergreen. This is bad. Very bad, so bad in fact, that things get FUnKy. A couple eons later, Simon gets the crown as per canon, and then things start to slide downhill. Since the crown is significantly worse, Simon tries to get rid of it. No amount of magic pull is going to get him to put on the eldritch hat. It teleports back. When things go to shit, the crown tells him he's got two options: He can either live, or he can live unwillingly. This all coalesces in super angst and mild horror as Simon has to fight off evil urges and somehow keep both he and Marceline safe. Things start looking up, though, when he summons Hunson Abadeer.

5.) Nightmare Therapy AU: Simon, now himself post canon, has some funky nightmares. Problem is: he's due for a visit from the cosmic owl due to some mystical bureaucratic bs. If that were to happen, Simon's dreams of Golb and Orgalorg and the world ending and everyone dying and maze would come true, without the veil of metaphoric junk dreams are known for (also due to bureaucratic bs). So, Simon gets a dream therapist. An OC, probably, that would fight off his nightmares when they came and talk to him about his issues.

6.) High School AU: Except they're all still magic and crap. Finn's a jock that's part of the LDnD club(Literally Dungeons and Dragons), Jake's got a job at a pancake place and hosts the Card Wars clubs on Wednesdays, Jermaine's in college and their parents were still detectives/demon hunters. PB is preppy/nerdy girl with weird fucking family and is absolutely a mad scientist. Marceline is still a demon/vamp (vampire biker gang, they all died, deaths pending) and her uncle is Simon. Simon is a history teacher whose ex wife might be an eldritch abomination (the students wonder, but there are no answers)((simon says cryptic things every so often that are the subject of much ridicule, but he's a nice guy)). Ooo High has all of the AT characters in some shape or form. Tree trunks is the lunchlady, Mr Pig is a janitor. Lemongrab is just there. LSP(Q?) is a teacher because that's hilarious. Hunson is dead along with Marceline's mom because fuck hunson. Magic Man is a hobo that snuck onto campus and can't be chased off (his brother is the superintendent, Glob). there's a lot more but that's for a different word doc.

7.) Back to the Future AU: So PB fucks around with time travel, right? For science. She gets sent back in time a thousand years, before the war. Now, she's a pink lady who can shoot jelly beans from her hands, of course needs to lay low. And of course she needs to get home, but she's in a Futurama situation where she only has one type of time machine; the one that can go into the past. Not to mention her own time machine got busted on her way there, so she's double screwed. But, she remembers something. There is an individual (two, actually) that knows about time travel in this time period. She knows him, and he's likely to help her if she plays her card right. She needs to find Simon and get back to her own time, preferably without dooming herself in the process. (perhaps she tries to steal the notes Simon has, and Simon's completely oblivious, except Betty can smell trouble from a mile away and immediately notices some pink woman trying to steal books and she goes ham. Perhaps she goes ham in such a way that Simon doesn't notice. Perhaps this goes on for seven acts.)

8.) Bread and Butter AU: Bella Noche during the episode Betty creates a huge black cube that engulfs all of Wizard City. This box acts as a cage and prevents Wizards from escaping the magic purge. Simon is unable to bring Betty back from the past, and he's fading fast. In a desperate attempt to stop things from escalating, Simon chugs a bottle of anti-magic like a fucking god. He gets through the cube that surrounds Bella Noche and knocks their lights out. He passes out, and when he comes to, the anti-magic he consumed as merged with him. This is because of a simple rule: Magic sticks to magic, anti-magic sticks to anti-magic. And since humans have always had just a little bit of anti -magic present within them, humans and anti-magic go together like bread and butter (badumtish) ((I have actually written a fanfic about this, you can find it here))

9.) Swapped AU: Through various shenanigans Ice King's and Magic Man's powers gets swapped. These shenanigans somehow land them in space as well. This happens before Magic Man's trial. The swapping of their powers results in Simon getting his memory back. It also gives Magic Man the Ice Crown, unfortunately for him though, it seems to hate him. Simon's glad to back, but quickly realizes one issue: He's still crazy. So the pair try to make it back to Ooo. MM needs his powers to swap himself with some other shmuck so he doesn't croak when his trial comes, but Simon's made it clear he isn't giving his powers up without a fight. The pair starts off rocky, neither trusting the other, but space trouble forces them to work together. Simon's a nice enough guy he wouldn't leave someone to die and MM really needs Simon alive so it works out. A weird friendship forms, and they learn get along. Just a couple of crazy space wizards. Then the crown is destroyed. MM is freed from the crown's control, and he's freed from magic. He gets his sanity back, just in time for his trial.

that’s all I’ve got for now!

[ahkaahshi]

the life of your dreams [ushijima wakatoshi x reader]

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x fem reader

genre: fluff with angst if you look under a microscope; modern day royal au

warning(s): suggestive themes, like two swear words if I counted right pfft

word count: 2.4k

overview: everyone would kill to be in your position: set to be married into a royal family and become the new princess of a faraway kingdom. well, everyone but you, that is.

notes: a special piece for ushiwaka on his birthday, but he deserves love all the time :)

The sounds of laughter and chatter, lilting ballroom music, and endless congratulations ring in your ears like a distant memory. Sitting outside in the humid air, you let the hum of cicadas overtake you and silence your mind. Underneath the heel of your sleek, black stiletto, you roll a small piece of gravel back and forth with a crunch. Your hands covered with silky, black gloves absentmindedly clutch onto one another tightly--a nervous habit of yours that your mother had warned made you appear standoffish at times.

Sitting outside of a regal estate, filled to the brim with luxurious furniture, prized artifacts, and countless paintings of quaint things--like the countryside on a sunny day or women picking flowers in fields--you couldn’t be unhappier with your situation. In the warm glow of the lanterns dotting the path nearby, the large diamond perched atop your left ring finger made itself known once again. You’re surprised you’ve gone this long without noticing it, seeing as it adores being the center of attention.

You want nothing more than to shun it. To throw it into the fountain less than twenty feet away and be done with it all. But the uproar that would create would be catastrophic, and you’d find yourself the subject of many scathing articles questioning the integrity of your engagement to your royal fiancé and the righteousness of your morals.

It was all too much. The constant attention. The schedule packed with a different, public appearance or frivolous event every hour, it seemed. The disgustingly sweet lies you barely choked out in response to those fed to you by your soon-to-be husband.

You could no longer stand to listen to anyone murmur their feelings of anguish and envy, saying how much they wished that they were living in your dream of a life. But, little did they know that their dream is your nightmare.

How can you possibly be happy when you wake up beside someone in the mornings you don’t love? How can you be content knowing all the acts of affection between the two of you are staged? Knowing that you’re nothing more than a charity case to this entire royal family? Realizing that nothing you’ve done for the past four months has been done of your own, free will?

Taking a deep breath, you reluctantly rise from the bench you’d spent the last half hour sitting on, pulling yourself together. Your (e/c) eyes wander over the posh exterior of the extravagant estate before your feet slowly bring you down the path back to the door.

The sound of your heels clicking against the marble flooring feels deafening, given the stark silence that has befallen the house. Nobody's around save for a few maids lightly dusting the precious treasures the royal family owns. It’s late at night, so you expect everyone to be asleep aside from the seemingly restless crew of butlers and servants.

When you make your way back to the quarters you share with your fiancé, however, you remember that many things can happen under the cover of the night. Your hand freezes in its journey towards the handle when you hear loud, muffled moans echoing from behind the polished, wooden door. Clear as day, you hear your prince murmuring praises, presumably while performing acts that are reaping sounds of pleasure from a woman’s mouth--probably the one you'd noticed him ogling at your event earlier whenever the two of you weren’t flocked by family or other attendees interested in all the fleshy details of your engagement.

As the realization that your future husband is cheating on you right under your nose sets in, your blood starts to boil. Heat courses through your entire body as your emotions start to take hold.

You’re not feeling upset. Or betrayed. You’re livid.

It’s not the infidelity that brings you over the edge. No. It’s the fact that while you’re here, suffering beneath the burdens of having an impending wedding to a man you are far from loving, he’s still getting what he wants.

That's when you snap and everything that’s been holding you back shatters. The opinions of high society that have kept you bound to him. The refusal of your parents to let you break off the engagement because of their own selfish wishes to be rich and famous. The feeling that you could maybe, possibly love him after years of being worn down and living overseas.

In an instant, it’s all gone; and the only thought in your mind now is, Damn it, I want to be happy.

Your first act of unshackling the chains that had been trapping you is reaching down to slide off your beautiful, but wickedly uncomfortable, stilettos. Once they’re off, you’re able sneak away in silence to find a butler who’s willing to fetch you a coat and keys to your car. It’s not a bad-looking vehicle by any means, but it’s been shoved away in the garage, you find, to avoid being spotted by any of the rich and pretentious who only arrive in limos filled with champagne and drive a Rolls Royce whenever they absolutely must shoulder the burden of driving themselves.

The butler asked no questions and swore himself to secrecy--though you’re sure the hundred-dollar bill you’d slapped in his hand had zipped his mouth right shut. Tossing your shoes onto the passenger seat and sticking the key in the ignition, you drive away from your sickening life with the royals to find the only person you’ve ever wanted and need now more than ever.

You’re not in the most inconspicuous of outfits, so you tie the belt of your long coat tightly around your form as you exit your car once you reach your destination. The arch of your foot throbs with indignation as you step into your heels once more, but you’re able to ignore it knowing that you’re at the only place you could ever ask to be. Pale, fluorescent lighting beats down on your form from above as you walk through the hallways of the apartment complex.

With no hesitation, you knock on one of the doors and wait with bated breath. The lock clicks and the door opens moments later to reveal a tall man whose familiar, olive eyes set on your figure with an intense stare. His silence reveals his shock at seeing you--the woman he was forced to give up, but whose heart he still held.

“Wakatoshi...” you utter softly, (e/c) eyes finding his gaze as your heart begins racing in your chest, “I won’t do it anymore.”

He wordlessly steps aside, allowing you into his apartment so you can talk in a more private setting. The last thing he wants is for a nosy neighbor to see a future princess visiting a man who isn’t her fiancé at such a late hour and tip off the press.

“(F/n), what are you saying?” he asks, his fingers raking through his slightly messy, dark hair. His eyebrows are furrowed ever so slightly in an emotion that could be confusion, irritation, or both, for that matter.

You untie the belt of your coat, which he slides off your shoulders for you, revealing the beautiful, evening dress you wore beneath. Its shimmering material composed of green and blue hues cascade down every curve of your body, into a pool of emerald at your feet. It takes every fiber of his being not to reach out and touch you to make sure you’re not just a manifestation of his yearning for you.

Tears quickly spring to your eyes as you answer, “I refuse to do it. I won’t marry him. I can’t.”

He shakes his head. “Your family won’t be happy if you back out.”

“Fuck that!” you cry as you kick off your shoes, bringing yourself a few inches further away from his face, “I want to be happy! This is my life, and I'm not going to spend it with some cheating prince who doesn’t even give a shit about me just to keep the peace!”

Silence befalls the apartment that’s only broken by your loud sniffle. You lift your hands to your face to wipe away your tears, but he soon takes over the job for you. Tenderly, he cups the side of your face in his hand, immersing his fingers in your (h/c) locks of hair and using his thumb to collect the droplets that travel down your cheek.

Your breath hitches in your throat at that touch of his that you’d never forgotten and that you’d imagined for the past four months to keep yourself sane. “I never loved him,” you confess, voice strained from the emotions that were overwhelming you all at once, “It’s always been you, Wakatoshi. I’ve only ever loved you this entire time.”

The coldness to his demeanor softens and he moves his face close enough to yours for you to feel his warm breath fanning across your skin. There’s a long moment of silence as you gaze into his dark eyes, in which you see a recognizable flicker of longing. In yours, watery but wide with hope and searing with desire, he sees every moment in his life that he’s ever promised you his love.

He hates asking unnecessary questions, and the strength of your will is enough to keep him from wondering if you’re sure of your decision.

“I’m giving him back the ring tomorrow. After that, I want to be yours.” You press your forehead against his and add, “Can I come over tomorrow evening, so we can go away for a bit?” as you absentmindedly take to tracing the handsome features on his face with your silk-covered fingers.

Your noses are touching now, bringing your lips dangerously close. “There’s no going back from that, you know,” he whispers. You notice the way his fingers press against the back of your head, as if he wants more than anything to lose himself in your affection.

“I know, baby,” you coo, “All this time I’ve spent separated from you has been hell, Wakatoshi. I don’t wanna go back.”

Your words are enough to crumble his resolve, and all thoughts of keeping his feelings hidden in an effort not to meddle in your relationship with the prince leave his mind in an instant.

“I love you, (f/n),” he breathes, closing the gap between your mouths without any hesitation.

The feeling of his lips on yours reminds you of what kisses should feel like. That no matter how soft and gentle, or rough and lustful they are, they should always be meaningful and filled with love. After months of being forced to share performative but empty displays of affection--if you could even call it that--with a prince whom you felt nothing but contempt towards, having Ushijima’s lips against your own felt heavenly.

His other hand moves to your waist, sliding along the sleek fabric of your dress before snaking around your back to pull you closer to him. The sensation of your body flush against his sends tingles down your spine and encourages you to wrap your arms around his neck. You feel weightless, like you’re falling for him all over again, and it’s better than anything you’d experienced since before you’d met your soon-to-be ex-fiancé.

It’s not long before his fingers find the zipper of your dress so that his hands can roam the familiar expanse of your body, free of inhibitions. Your heart flutters in your chest at the softness in his tone as he affirms, “I’ll always love you.”

It’s a promise he presses into every inch of your skin while your back is pressed against the plush comforter of his bed that night, and one he’s clearly intent on keeping.

A blissful visit and a vow to meet the next evening so you can finally be together gives you each enough peace and security to withstand one more day apart. In the yellow light of a lamp on a bedside table in one of the estate’s guest rooms, you stay awake an hour longer to compile your feelings into a letter for the prince. While he’s out and about the next day, completely unbothered by the fact that you hadn’t returned to bed the night before, you enlist the help of the butler you’d bribed in packing up your things.

When night falls once more, and your fiancé is sound asleep after having far too many drinks with his friends, you place your neatly folded letter on his nightstand. Your eyes linger on the glittering diamond once more when you set it gently atop your note. You’d gotten so used to its presence on your finger that it now felt bare without it. But, what was more important was that your heart felt full knowing where you were going from here.

Silently, you leave your chambers for the last time and sneak out to the garage, where your very average chariot awaits, nestled between the wall and the first in a legacy of luxury vehicles that are too outdated to see the sun. In a matter of twenty minutes, you’re back at Ushijima’s front door, filled to the brim with anticipation.

When he opens the door and sees you standing in the hallway, life neatly packed up into nothing more than a suitcase and a duffle bag like you’d never had a home at the estate to begin with, he realizes how much he wants to give you a place where you can finally feel comfortable and secure. Though your face is devoid of any makeup, and you’re wearing a much humbler outfit comprised of a sweater and yoga pants, he still thinks you look just as gorgeous as you did the night before.

“It’s done,” you announce, holding up your left hand to show him your empty finger.

In response, he presses one of those kisses that you could never grow tired of against your lips. After sliding his own duffel bag onto his shoulder, he locks up the apartment and leads you to the garage. Once you’ve moved your car inside, out of public view, you load up his car and sit in the passenger seat with a grin spread across your mouth.

“You ready?” he wonders. You notice him pause in his act of starting up the car to look over at you for approval.

Your hands slide around the sides of his face and you give him another, affectionate peck.

“I’ve been ready for a long time now.”

A smile graces his features as he adds, “So have I.”

As the engine of his car comes to life, so does the excitement in your heart, since you’re finally starting the life of your dreams, rather than that of everyone else’s.

[goatsandgangsters]

so what is grishaverse? i could just google it, but i kind of want to hear it from a fan

hello yes! happy to help! I also love to be categorized as a fan here because the reality is that these books have been loitering on my to-read list for several years until netflix forced my hand and I was like “o fuk, o shit, I gotta read those now” and then tore through binge-reading/absolutely devouring them over the past couple months (and I’m not normally a media-binger, but man, these books go FAST and they hook ya) and now Am Love It Very Much

Non-spoilery lore summary of where things start out: Set in a fantasy world based on tsarist/19th-century Russia. Some people—called Grisha—have powers. Everywhere else in the world, Grisha are oppressed, but In Fantasy Russia they’re now warily tolerated as a useful military branch. There are three broad categories of Grisha types, which are basically “medical school but make it magic” (people whose power is either to Fuck Shit Up in your body or to heal it), “long ago the four three nations lived together in harmony” (airbenders, waterbenders, firebenders), and “extreme DIY crafting” (they make/invent stuff real good). However, Our Protagonist discovers she has the rare Grisha power of being able to summon sunlight. Which is particularly useful when your war-torn country is cut off from its only coastline by A Giant Enormous Area Of Total and Absolute Darkness That Monsters Live In. /CUE DRAMATIC MUSIC

You’ve got POWERS! You’ve got HISTORICALLY-INSPIRED-YET-DISTINCTLY-FANTASY AESTHETICS! You’ve got POLITICAL INTRIGUE and WAR! You’ve got HEISTS and CRIMES! You’ve got FANTASY ANALOGIES FOR REAL-WORLD OPPRESSION! You’ve got some really great CHARACTERS! It’s fun, it’s fast, it’s absorbing.

Book series structure: There are a couple different sets of books set within the Grishaverse. The first is a trilogy (“the grisha trilogy”)—the first book of which is called Shadow and Bone, from which the Netflix adaptation draws its name. That’s a three-book series focused on the aforementioned sunlight protagonist. THEN there is another duology of books (which are six of crows and crooked kingdom), which is set in the same universe, but focuses on an entirely different set of characters, with an entirely different storyline, in a different/neighboring country from Fantasy Russia, and also it’s set slightly after the first trilogy. Book-wise, they’re very much separate entities. While the trilogy has sort of a “you’re the chosen one, save your country” vibe with big political players, the duology has more of a “be gay, do crime” vibe that’s more gritty with gang of found family do a heist. (Tho if you’re looking at content that’s on my blog, I’ve only reblogged trilogy-focused posts because I am Not Yet Done With The Duology Books.) I have to respect an author who creates a sandbox and then doesn’t want to stop playing in it, because that’s probably exactly what I would do too.

TV adaptation structure: the SHOW, which is called Shadow and Bone and which drops on Netflix in a couple weeks, is combining both of those sets of books into one plotline, even though they are very much separate in the books. It seems like they’re planning to follow the plot of the first (trilogy) book pretty closely, while weaving in the characters from the duology as more of a prequel to their own books. So it’ll be interesting to see how they do that, because they’re fusing together these different stories into one.

So that’s why the use of “grishaverse” is useful because you have these multiple sets of stories that take place within the same world but that focus on different things and different people in different places—but that will be woven together more fully in the upcoming adaptation—so it’s a useful catch-all term for The World This Is Set In 

If you’re intrigued by the show but reasonably can’t commit to binge-reading an entire book series in the span of the next two weeks, it DOES seem like it’s designed to be enjoyable to both book fans and to people who are totally brand new to the world. That said, even though I just dumped a lot of info on you about trilogies and duologies (and those five aren’t even the entirety of books published within this world but I wanted to stick to the Key Info), the books and the world are actually super accessible. The pacing is fast, so I found them to be quick reads. The world-building is presented in a way that’s really clear and digestible; I never felt thrown into something huge that I didn’t understand, which can happen with some fantasy series. While the world itself is broad and sweeping, the way these stories are told and the way they unfold felt like something that I could jump immediately into without any foreknowledge and immediately feel like I understood what was going on. I literally osmosis’d ZERO THINGS about the series(es?) when I started reading—and I didn’t even read the blurb on the back!—but it was a really accessible and easy world to enter into.

Also, I did NOT expect to get as totally hooked as I did. But the timing has been really fun for me actually, because I get to absolutely devour this fun, engaging book series and then immediately I’ll get to revisit it in a different way when the show drops!

[maisymousette]

(((Please don’t mind me @guqin-and-flute and @greenwitching I couldn’t help myself --- I hope you don’t mind a lil addition to your goose shenanigans! I am in love with this au world and i literally whacked this out in half an hour, if there are any inaccuracies i cry in big sorry to you)))  

The sun was shining, the featherless gosling-humans were throwing those sharp sticks at the fluttering things in the sky, and you were paddling serenely in your favourite corner of the lake after walking ink through the nesting room of the sharp-honking human. He should be thankful, you had been quite artistic in your endeavor.

Your black and red mother always liked your goose art.

You kept paddling as you considered the rest of your day–was it a good day for trinket hunting? Your hoard could always use new shiny things, but you were also feeling quite uninspired. Perhaps, then, you would be sated by pooping in a few new places to keep the humans on their toes. They made the most delightful honks when they found your gifts for them.

You wiggled your webbed feet. It must be awful to have toes. 

How odd, you thought, when you realised the background noise of the gosling-humans had ceased. It made quite good pondering music for when you plan your shenanigans. Curiosity piqued, you waddled out of the lake and headed towards where you had last seen the gosling-humans, displeased by the tomfoolery happening in your kingdom without your consent.

An awful sound filled your ears, a shrill honking that made your feathers ruffle so you followed it, straight to the place you often saw the humans twirling around with the pointy metal sticks. You waddled into the courtyard with purpose, head held high as your beady eyes took in the situation before you. 

The awful shrill honking was coming from a human leading other humans in black and red, and you shifted your wings in anger. How dare they come squawking in your kingdom wearing your mothers colours like they owned the place! They did not. You did.

Your mother looked angry, and so did the other humans you generously let live in your realm. Especially the one who always wore the pretty fabrics you dearly desired for your own nest. She looked far more displeased than usual. How dare these invaders ruin your day, and upset your humans. Your goose brain was quick, and it was smart. You knew what to do. 

Your mother looked surprised when she saw you waddle behind the shrill honker, but there was a gleam in his eyes you understood well. It was a gleam that said trouble, and it was your favourite one. Last time you had seen that look in his eye, he had graciously allowed you to enter the Forbidden Place you had desperately craved to explore. That had been a good day.

You shifted excitedly, smug with the knowledge you were about to create mayhem. You loved mayhem. And you were going to make your mother proud, so proud you would be given a feast of vegetables and seed and everything your goose heart desired, just like the Forbidden Place day. 

You sifted through the feathers at your chest, looking for the item you had stashed there a few days ago, when you were exploring your mothers nest for treasures. He was messy, your mother, and he often left perfectly good treasure lying around for you. This one was one of your favourites, and you honked with success as you plucked the yellow paper from its hiding place. 

Your humans still looked angry, but now they also looked a little confused. Good. You liked to surprise them.

The shrill honker had turned around and spotted you, flapping her featherless arms at you and honking in the way that your mother did when he was happy, but you knew this wasn’t the same. She was mocking you. Mocking made you angry. 

You hissed at her, stretching your neck and showing off your wings, how big you were. She would regret mocking you.

A frission of heat swept through your gut as you focused, and then an array of bright glowy things spewed forth and scattered through the bad humans, and it only took a moment of awe from your humans until they kicked into gear and finished the job while you hissed and bit at all the bad people you could reach.

Humans were always so surprised when they realised you had teeth. 

It was excellent.

---------

When all was said and done, Jiang Cheng was resting with his brother on the pier as they gazed out at the lake, watching a gleeful goose paddle and splash as he kicked at the fish below the surface, red stains slowly slipping from his white feathers.

“What the fuck,” he muttered again, rubbing a hand across his face. “So you’re telling me you genuinely had no idea your weird goose baby knew how to use talismans?”

Wei Wuxian, for once, looked just as stunned as he did. 

“Well, he sits with me sometimes when I work on my talismans, and it helps to explain things to him as I’m doing it... makes more sense to me that way,” Wei Wuxian admitted, brushing his finger against his nose in confusion. “I had no idea he could use them though, especially the Devil Scatter spell talisman! Ah, the looks on their faces,” he cackled.

Jiang Cheng had enjoyed the look on their faces, when they realised their defeat had been wrought by a relatively unassuming goose. Even his mother was speechless, and explaining the event to his father and sister upon their return was, ah, interesting, to say the least. 

Thanks to that precious moment of confusion, they had gained the upper hand against the Wen soldiers that had followed Wang Lingjiao to Lotus Peir, and sent them running with their tails between their legs. Even the arrival of Wen Zhuliu had meant precious little, as he knew there was no victory to be had if they stayed and that Madam Yu would have no qualms killing Wen Chao’s mistress. What occurred today was a clear message from the Jiang Sect.

Now they prepared for an attack that was surely coming soon, and Jiang Cheng could already see the cogs spinning in Wei Wuxian’s bizarre brain, about how to weaponize a goddamn goose who could, apparently, use talismans.

Said goose had paddled his way towards them now, gently honking with delight as Wei Wuxian gave him a scratch on his neck. The goose was clearly preening under the attention and soaking up every scrap, and Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at the absurdity. Of course Wei Wuxian’s goose would be as shameless as he was. 

The goose paused for a moment, before he ruffled the feathers under his wings and pulled out– 

“Oh my god,” Jiang cheng breathed, watching with disbelief as the goose gave his brother a Wen emergency flare that had the crest on it that symbolized use by a direct Wen family member only. It must have been a gift from Wen Chao, in case his mistress got in trouble. Oh, they could definitely use this.

It was all he could repeat, a phrase on loop that had lost all emphatic meaning now but still held the shreds of his sanity together.

“What the fuck.”

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Alright, time for an important update--

There’s going to be some changes going on with the blog and I’m excited to talk about them. I’ll give full detail beneath the cut. Before I get into it, though, I know not everyone’s gonna read this long post, so I  wanna let y’all know that my inbox is fully open again, so you can send in anons and chat with me and whatnot. 

Asks

Like I already said in my previous update, I turned off my anons due to the flood of nasty messages I’ve been getting. They’re all deleted now, and any new ones that come in will be deleted. I’m done with them. I will not answer them. If you send them to me, then you’re wasting everyone’s time. Do better. 

Themed nights + New kinds of posts

I’ve previously talked about my feelings for the current state of the character/ships/seasons/etc nights and how they’re not as fun for me as they used to be. While I will always love chatting with you guys and hearing your opinions, it’s grown a bit stale for me to make “It’s character night, y’all!” every Saturday since by now, we’ve covered just about every character, and the same goes for the ships. 

I wanna do something new, y’know? Have new discussions that aren’t just “I love this character they baby,” and bounce around new ideas. On top of that, there’s a couple new post types I’m introducing. 

Lemme start with Fridays. I’ve gotten a couple asks in the past asking me to do these Top 10/Top 5 lists that I’ve loved creating! It got me thinking that there are a lot of different lists I could create for fun, so why not do one once a week? 

T5F, as I’ll tag them. The first one’s ready on the queue to go up tomorrow, and it’s a fun one-- a more silly subject to start with, y’know? It was run to write up, and I had some help from my screenshot dealer @pi-creates​ to create them, and I’m excited to share it with you. :D

On Saturdays, we’re going to hold something I’m calling--

The basic idea is that I’m going to give you an AU in just one sentence-- no other details, nothing else at all. You guys will take this idea, expand upon it, and the we discuss. 

For example, this Saturday’s AU is going to be: “Aasim took over as leader after Marlon’s death.”

That’s it, that’s all I’m giving you. It’s up to you guys to come up with the details, send ‘em in, and we’ll expand on it together. Make sense? 

I’m excited to start this new... what, series? I guess it could be a series... a new series of themed nights. How about that? I have a long list of different AU’s, and hell if you can think of any, please feel free to send ‘em in! 

So, that’ll be replacing Saturday’s usual character night. As for Sunday’s usual ship night, that’s being removed entirely. I’m gonna be streaming every other Sunday morning, and in the afternoon, I wanna take that time to answer asks, work on fics and other posts, and work on my queue. So, I’ll still be active, but not for a themed night, y’know? 

Now, there’s another fun, more sillier post I’m gonna be doing every so often. I’ve always wanted to do something like this, and now that I’m doing new things, I’m saying “fuck it” and throwing it in.

Yeah, that’s right. Conspiracy theories about TWDG. 

Y’all have heard me talk about alien Luke, right? Well, that’ll be the first conspiracy that goes up, and others from then on will either come from my brain, from me searching around for the craziest theories, or submitted by you guys. 

Sometimes we take things so fucking seriously, y’know? Sometimes I wanna yeet everything out the window and rant about how there are actually two different Luke’s in S2 and one of them is an alien replacement. 

You got something crazier than alien Luke? Submit it and don’t leave out any details. 

-

Okay, so those are the three new things I’m introducing to the blog starting tomorrow. I’d like to know what you think! I hope you’re excited!

Stream Schedule

For those who watch the streams, I have the March schedule posted on my blog, and I wanna say a huge THANK YOU for your support of the streams. I love doing them, and I love talking to the chat. :D

You’ll notice I am doing a few extra streams outside of my usual Monday/Tuesday schedule. After doing the TFS all-day marathon, I realized that I actually liked streaming on Sunday mornings/noon. I figured that would be the perfect day to do some Death Road runs! Then on those two Fridays, I’m doing some one offs-- Little Hope [despair run] and Oxenfree. 

I’m doing a despair run of The Wolf Among Us, then we’re jumping into a playthrough of Fable III, a game that I haven’t touched in years but remember having a lot of fun with. It’s got a lot of choices, and as we all saw in the Yes, Your Grace, I am 100% fit to run my own kingdom, so what could go wrong? 

-

That’s all the new stuff I have to talk about. Now I’m gonna get mushy and say thanks for sticking around, even though TFS ended years ago. And thank you to those who are kind and decent without our twdg community, who have participated in past theme nights, and who send me asks watching to discuss twdg-- I appreciate every single one of you. I hope you enjoy the new things to come. ❤️❤️❤️

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

heavenly yours (epilogue) | th x fem!reader

Heavenly Yours – a chaotic series

PART 1  |  PART 2  |  PART 3 | epilogue

Summary: A few years passed and some things changed. What is now happening in the Underworld of Hell?

Pairing: KOH!Tom x Angel!Fem!Reader 

Warnings: language, some blood (not much), tones of cute moments, tones of feelings, SMUT including pregnant sex, unprotected sex (use condoms kids), fingering, stimulation and breeding kink (oopsie)

Words count: 10.2k

A/N: first of all: a massive thank you to all the people who supported me and this mini series! you’ve been amazing all along, and i couldn’t have make it without you 🙏🏻✨ also sorry for the delay but i started a new job so i was busy, but then covid-19 happened and here i am now at home 😅 at least i can get some writing done 👀 anyway this mini series is coming to an end with this epilogue, so again a big tysm and i hope you will support my other works like you did with this one 💖💞

masterlist | series masterlist | your support

A few years later.

In the Hell’s Castle.

.

.

❞ You piece of crap, you are such a disgrace even for Hell. ❞

The voice echoes in the throne room. It is not a scream, but still loud, rough and impressing. Capable of giving you the chills or killing anyone on the spot. A voice well-known in the Underworld of Hell. A voice feared by any demon down there.

‘M-MY KING, I-I DIDN’T MEAN TO- I AM S-SORRY PLEASE! SPARE ME P-PLEASE-”

❞ SILENCE. ❞

The voice gets a bit deeper this time. The entire room trembles and so do all the people present in there. No one dares to look directly at him, scared of making him lose his temper even more. The demons care for their life and just kneel down, heads bows, silently.

But boy someone sure is going to have a bad time today.

Tom lazily sits on his throne, one leg crossed over the other and an elbow on the black wooden armrest with his hand supporting his head. His current sitting spot overhangs the room, getting a clear view on today’s “trash to clean”, as he commonly calls them. The strong fingers of his free hands tap on the armrest, his short nails creating a macabre melody in addition to the fragile pleading of the unfortunate defendant of the day. The King’s facial expression doesn’t let through a single ounce of emotion, but who knows him well senses that the King is upset. Really upset.

❞ How many times did we catch you sneaking out of the 8th circle? Five, or more? Either way, you really pissed me off now. ‘ve got other shits to deal with. ❞

‘P-PLEASE MY KING! I WILL DO WHATEVER Y-YOU WANT! PLE-’

❞ FUCK OFF, YOU MISERABLE ASSHOLE. ❞

*slash*

The pleading abruptly stops, letting a heavy silence to take place. The body of the demon then separates in two perfect and equal parts, before falling into a sloppy sound on the now bloody ground. Still no word spoken. Now the smell of death is strong in the room, and the blood of that disgusting and deceitful demon begins to block Tom’s airways.

❞ Take that shit away from my sight and clean quickly that mess ❞ exhales Tom, scratching his temples and frowning at the displeased view.

The demons’ subjects stand one by one and after bowing their head to their King, they start executing his orders.

❞ Actually, give some pieces to Tessa. She will be happy to have something to chew on. ❞

At the sound of her name the aforesaid Tessa makes her way next to her master, her claws clinking on the marble floor as she passes next to the corpse and other royal subjects. Now sitting next to Tom’s leg, her tongue hanging out, the female staffy raises her face towards Tom who understands what she wants.

❞ I know, darling, I know. Now is break time ❞ slightly chuckles Tom as he bends his upper body  to scratch behind his dog’s ears.

Just as his subjects finish cleaning the mess from earlier - not forgetting to bring some “toys” in Tessa’s corner -, Tom catches some stepie steps coming from behind the giant entrance door of the throne room. And he knows these steps. Pretty well actually. He smiles and Tessa seems to ear them too now, her tails batting the ground from excitement.

The devil man finally stands from his throne, extending his black wings on his back. All royal servants are gone, the place shinning like day one. Then a light knock resonates in Tom’s ears, his smile transforming into an amused smirk.

❞ Who dares to disturb the King during his duties? ❞ Tom exclaims in a weird imposing baritone voice, chin up and chest puffed out.

*giggles*

The man beats his wings and keeps his position, quite the opposite of Tessa who excitedly begins running around Tom, knowing who is actually behind the door.

❞ I dare you to enter this room, you little crooks! ❞

The heavy double door cracks as it opens slowly, letting out some creaking noises. Tessa just starts running straight to it as her barks echo in the room. And as the door opens enough, two little bodies appear behind it and are instantly being jumped on by the dog, clearly happy to see them. Then follow lots of laughing and giggles.

‘DADDY!’

Tom finally loosens up his acting at both voices calling him then walks towards them, arms open wide. As Tessa calms down, the two bodies free themselves and run to the King, before jumping right at him. Tom catches them, joining their laughs as he starts spinning around.

❞ How are my beautiful children doing? ❞

Children indeed. Two children. Tom’s treasures and source of happiness. Something he never imagined he could have one day. But he did. On his strong arms are attached his four and a half-year-old daughter Dottie and almost two-year-old son Al, both their little hands wrap around their dad’s waist and torso as they look at him with smiling faces.

Dottie is the clear image of Tom. Same brown wild curls he once had back to his angel’s life, big coffee eyes that are already pro at doing the puppy look, a cheeky smile and very affectionate. A total outgoing daddy’s girl, a bit loud sometimes, but always ready to help and protect the one she loves, mostly her little brother. She is his little warrior, as Tom likes to call her.

Regarding Al, the younger sibling is definitely like (Y/N). The same features from the colour of his hair, eyes and so on that scream he is the reflection of the dear angel who stole Tom’s heart long time ago. But little Al is quieter than his sister, sometimes shy or even diffident, but still kind and radiating gentleness. And a one hundred percent mama’s boy.

To compliment all that, both children display cute growing wings on their back. A mix of white and dark feathers, beautifully arranged and showing the union of their so different parents. But Tom couldn’t stop touching them because each time he does, these feathers prove him everything is now possible, even for him who endure exile and torture alone for so long. The tiny bodies he carries warmly are the fruit of his tenacity to show how much the Kingdom of Heaven was wrong since forever, ruling in the shadow with received ideas which only created sadness in the end.

But not anymore.

❞ Wait, did you two sneak out of your mother’s sight or- ❞

“I’m always close to them even when they don’t know, darling.”

Tom exhales, a smile growing on his face. The lovely and soothing voice of his other half makes his head turn towards it. And there she is. (Y/N). Standing next to his throne as if she was always meant to be there, wings majestically framing her body and the long white lace summer dress he lastly bought her drawing her curves to the perfection. And new perfectly stretching around her growing stomach. The angel brings her left hand up to stroke it, the circular moves drawing attention to the golden accessory on her ring finger which also matchs with his own one.

A wedding ring.

Her longer hair cascades on her back and shoulders, nicely brushed and arranged to welcome a delicate crown on top of her head. Thin and discreet, a few gold stems go around her head, intertwined together, with some clear red spots here and there.

A golden crown of red roses.

(Y/N) is absolutely stunning, she always was, always is and always will be. She manages to take Tom’s breath away each time, even for any little things she does. The angel was the missing puzzle piece since the beginning.

After the night they became one, Tom stake to his words to make the angel woman his queen. As much as Tom wanted a quick and private celebration, his friend and advisor Harrison had to remind him many times that Tom being the King of Hell, he had to mark the occasion at least a little bit to officially present her to the Kingdom of Hell.

And that is what Tom did.

It was a short ceremony but still worthy of the King of Hell. And maybe an occasion to show off a lot little next to his soon to be - and now officially proclaimed - wife, the love of his (after)life. And it would have been logical to give her the title of Queen of Hell, as him being the King of Hell himself.

But no. Tom didn’t want her being associated too much to the Underworld of Hell, title included. So he decided to stick with only “Queen” and that was already enough, and even better. (Y/N) is his Queen, the one he wants to rule his Kingdom next to, the one he wants to be with forever.

‘MAMA!’

The children both squeeze out the grip of their father to rapidly fly right towards their mother, who kindly smile at them as she catches her youngest one in his still wobbly flying. Al and Dottie cuddle into (Y/N)’s body, being careful to avoid her tummy during their embrace.

Tom could look at this scene for hours. Looking at the person he loves the most holding his two other precious ones - soon to be three - all together, radiating of love, happiness and kindness, emotions he craved for so long that he is now proud of being able to have and feel. Unconsciously this put a warm smile on his face, and he couldn’t stop himself from joining them too.

As Tom engulfs them all into his strong arms, his black wings also surrounding them, (Y/N) slightly nuzzles her face into her husband’s neck while still holding both her children close to her. The devil man rubs his nose against the soft hair on top of her head, avoiding her little crown, to smell the fresh scent of flowers coming from it.

❞ You like to just appear and disappear wherever you want to surprise me, don’t you darling? ❞ jokes Tom kissing her temple, which makes his wife giggle.

“It’s not like you don’t like it, sweetheart” replies (Y/N) as she leaves a soft peck on his neck.

❞ Cheeky you. But touché. ❞

One of Tom’s hands slides around her lower back then her hip to end its course at the side of her growing stomach, slowly stroking it through the fabric of her sundress. He kisses both Dottie and Al’s foreheads before resting his cheek against (Y/N)’s temple.

Being able to have his family by his side to love and cherish to his heart’s content is something Tom would never change. His family. These simple words bring so much feelings inside him, warming up his heart each time he says them out loud. With a powerful meaning.

Tom detaches from the little group to take back both his daughter and son in his own arm, freeing (Y/N) from their intense grip. He then walks to his throne and sits on it, putting both his children on one leg on it. (Y/N) soon joins them too and sits on Tom’s free leg, slightly leaning on her husband’s torso.

❞ Alright kids, what did you do with your mother until now? ❞ asks Tom to his children, firmly but tenderly keeping them still on his leg.

As Dottie begins (but mostly tries) to vividly describe all the games they played and Al listening to his big sister, both parents look at them lovingly while cuddling into each other. Tessa soon join them with something in her mouth - definitely a piece of the demon’s body from before -, sitting peacefully at Tom’s feet to chew on her new “toy”.

The macabre room of sentences is now filled with adorable laughers and chitchatting, clearing up the usual bloody and terrific atmosphere for today, at least.

* * * *

(Y/N) lays on the red velvet couch in the living room, her back against tones of fluffy pillows she gathered from everywhere in the castle. Her legs stretched out, she continues reading with the book slightly put on her five-month-tummy. In the background, the angel can hear Dottie and Al playing in the garden with Tessa, their joyful laughers making her smile. Beside her, the fire keeps crackling in the fireplace, warming up the air around her. It is actually the only spot of fire (Y/N) ever saw in Hell, and the only one she is actually happy to light up.

Still immerse in her peaceful reading, she hears steps resonate on the marble of the living room, coming closer to where she is. As the angel raises her head, the silhouette of Harrison makes its way to her. Dressed in his usual black outfit, imposing wings on display, the loyal demon of Hell soon stops at the back of the couch to address to the young woman.

“Good afternoon, Harrison” (Y/N) greets him as she rests the still open book on her stomach, giving her full attention to her friend.

‘ Good afternoon, (Y/N). We just rece- ‘

Harrison gets interrupted by (Y/N) who puts her index finger on her lips, then slowly pointing down to where her book is. Intrigued, the demon leans further over the couch. And to his surprise here sleeps the King of Hell himself, totally squeezed between the back of the couch and (Y/N)’s body, his face slightly on top of her breasts and an arm around her pregnant belly.

(Y/N)’s hand begins to scratch his scalp softly and he seems to snuggle more into her, his breathing calm and at ease. Harrison tries his best to suppress a smirk. Seeing the most powerful demon who terrifies all Hell and beyond in this position, as gentle as a lamb, is for sure destroying the entire myth itself. But at the same time, he never saw his friend this peaceful until he made the impossible to bring his love one back to him.

So in the end, Harrison couldn’t stop the discret crooked grin in the corner of his lips. After silently clearing his voice, he starts again but in a hushed voice.

‘ As I was saying, we just received a letter from Heaven addressed to you. ‘

Harrison holds the aforesaid letter out to the angel woman, who takes it carefully as to not crumple the delicate paper. The letter is rolled up and neatly tied up in a white silk ribbon, (Y/N)’s name calligraphed on it in thin and calligraphed letters.

Looking at her sleepy husband one last time, (Y/N) takes the ribbon between her fingers and slowly undo it, depositing it on her book. Harrison stays at the same place, hands linked on his back as he watches over the woman. (Y/N) rolls the paper out with her two hands and sees a few lines written on it, the handwriting being familiar to her.

“This is from Zendaya” starts (Y/N), now smiling with kind eyes at the letter. “Thank you Harrison.”

‘ You’re welcome, (Y/N). I will be with the kids if you need something. Also... ‘

The demon glances at Tom who has not moved an inch since then, still fast asleep against (Y/N).

‘ ... Make sure he is awake for his afternoon’s duties. Got some important “work” to deal with ‘ Harrison whispers, emphasising the specific word “work” with the intonation of his voice.

“I know I know, don’t worry about it” replies (Y/N) while massaging Tom’s scalp.

As Harrison makes his way outside to keep a close eye on the children - even if in the end, he will totally play with them but never admit it out loud -, (Y/N) feels Tom’s body moving slightly, his legs stretching out but still not waking up fully.

The arm around her stomach tightens a bit, his hand caressing her side almost tickling her thought her dress. He snuggles more against her, a content smile now on his face. Letting her husband enjoy his well deserved nap, (Y/N) can concentrate on the letter she received from Zendaya.

Zendaya. One of the Superior Angels who maintains peace in the Kingdom of Heaven. One with a big heart and a beautiful soul. And the only one who trusted and agreed to help Tom when he was banished and sent to Hell.

Approaching the Superior Angels was, at the time, nearly impossible because they were considered as “the direct messengers of the Holy God”. But Zendaya had always been... Zendaya. Well educated, respected by everyone and also the only Superior Angels close to the other angels. She never feared anyone, even when her fellow Superiors asked her many times to keep her distance with the common  angels.

Zendaya always had a mind of her own and that is also why she developed a certain friendship with Tom. Him being himself loved by everyone in Heaven, she knew since the beginning she could trust him. With time they became confidant to one another, and it is also like how Zendaya learnt about his growing feelings towards (Y/N). She knew her too, a bit less but still enough to trust her deeply and admire her from afar. But everything changed when the Superior Angels suspected something was going on. And, in fact, they didn’t hesitate a single second to get complete rid of Tom without another thought. And Zendaya couldn’t do anything but assist to his terrific exile.  

As time flies, Zendaya felt nothing was the same in Heaven anymore. Mostly when she kept an eye on (Y/N). So much despair and sadness, but well hidden by the young angel to not draw any attention to her. Zendaya admired (Y/N)’s mental strength but she could not not be afraid of her fellow’s mental health. And even with all her will, Zendaya knew she couldn’t do anything. At least not by herself.

Until one day, totally out of nowhere when she thought she had to finally put what happened behind her. That specific day, everything changed as a tiny piece of paper was found under the bench Zendaya usually sits on in her private garden. A simple message non signed but somehow... recognisable, with a black feather attached to it and simply written:

“I’m alive. We need to talk.”

Zendaya kept her devilish correspondence with Tom to herself, being extremely careful each time a letter was sent by one or received by the other. The Superior Angel was the best help Tom needed to bring back (Y/N) to him, even if Zendaya was not really in favour of that idea, at first. But she was the most sensible angel - with (Y/N) - in Heaven and the determined one wishing for a change.

A true and concrete change had to happen. Now or never.

And that is how Zendaya planned (Y/N)’s “evasion” with Tom’s help, also managing at the same time to not declare a war between both kingdoms and opening the minds of angels and demons. What a job, really. But it was worse it because since then, the impenetrable borders between the two worlds finally fell for good.

...

« « My Dear (Y/N),

I hope you are doing good. How is your pregnancy is going?

Recently, the Superiors Angels and I gathered to discuss about sharing our mutual files about the people arriving at the Purgatory’s Gates, but also about the “doubtful” ones. I broached this topic since a bit of time now, but you know how the Superiors are... Still reluctant about this and that, but we will slowly make it.

And how are Hell Boy and your beautiful kids? Hope they at least give you some rest time. Mostly Tom because this man is a mess by himself. I still wonder sometimes how he manages to do anything while you were not here (yet).

Anyway. Tell little Dottie and little Al I love them a lot, to be good and that I can’t wait to see you all again when your new little member will be here.

Wishing you all the happiness to you and your beautiful family.

P.S.: tell Tom to stop being a dick and to read that damn report I sent him last week because I need an answer fast now, thanks.

Sincerely, Zendaya. » »

(Y/N) tries to stop giggling at the last lines of the letter, but still couldn’t really help it. Her chest vibrates against her will, slightly shaking Tom out from his sleep.

❞ What in this letter is making my beautiful wife laugh? ❞ Tom asks sleepily, his voice hoarse and eyes still close as if waking up is not in his plans yet.

(Y/N) caresses and kiss the crown of his head still resting on her chest, now openly giggling at the sluggish mood of her husband.

“Zendaya is waiting for you to read a report from a week ago” the angel slowly starts, her fingers running along Tom’s neck as her lips don’t leave his forehead. “Also she is planning to come visit when our little one is born.”

Tom finally dares to raise his head and meet his wife’s sparkling eyes, his being drown into them again and a smile now on his face.

❞ I can’t wait for them to be born, I want to hold them in my arms so bad ❞ says Tom, kind of lost in his thoughts as he caresses (Y/N)’s stomach lovingly.

“Me too, I can’t wait” the angel replies, emotions of pure happiness overwhelming her entire body.

The two beings share a passionate kiss, full of love, in this moment of silence. Pure calm and solitude while Tom holds his dear queen softly in his arms and runs his hand over her growing belly. Neither of them have to say much in order to know what the other is thinking. This moment is not different.

The joyful laughers of their children in the background constantly remind them how grateful they both are to the Gods for allowing them such happiness.

* * * *

Finally the end of the day.

Tom feels beyond exhausted. As Harrison likes to stick to his plan as strict and a total pain in the ass as they usually are, his fellow demon friend assisted him during his afternoon’s duty in the throne room. All. Damn. Afternoon. Harrison didn’t let him have more than three-minute breaks because he wanted things to be done for good. And since the third heir is supposed to arrive in a few months, there was no way in Hell Harrison would let Tom increase his workload.

But now the night took place over the day long ago. The Underworld fell asleep little by little like the Castle itself. Tom exists the bathroom, heavy clouds of steam following him after an intense and thorough showering. The hot water helps his sore muscles to relax a bit, as he made a way too much good use of (Y/N)’s shower gel to erase the smell of blood and sweat stuck deeply in the pores of his body.

He lets out a sigh, his cheeks still red from the shower and finishs drying his buzzed head and neck with a towel. His wings moves from time to time to dry themselves from the remaining drops of water in them. Lazing throwing the towel back in the bathroom - hopefully in the laundry basket -, Tom adjusts his sweatpants and gazes at the silent and dark bedroom, guessing (Y/N) is still putting Dottie and Al to bed.

Taking advantage of it, the devil man flops down on the bed on his back. Sighing another time once he feels the fresh silk sheets under his skin, all his muscles even the thinest ones de-stress together. His wingspan unfolded is for sure impressive, covering all the bed in its length but the black feathers matching beautifully with the dark red silk sheets.

Complete silence. Only his slow breathing calming down as he closes his eyes, now taken into total darkness. Sometimes Tom remembers some of this kind of days, like today, when tones of judgements had to be done and then sentences to fall right after. And after he would just be like he is now, trying his best to empty his mind. Alone. And the next day, the same episode would repeat over and over again. Always alone.

But not anymore.

The faint click of the bedroom door opening takes Tom out of this thoughts as he slowly opens one eye to look towards it. Silently, (Y/N) appears and closes the door without a sound as soon as she steps a foot in the room. Then she turns to see her husband lazily laying on the bed, letting a little chuckle at the sight.

Such a pleasant sound. The demon King could hear his wife laugh all day, it is pure music to his ears and so much soothing. Sounding divine as looking heavenly.

Tom stares at (Y/N) from the bed noticing her wearing the bronze-nude coloured silk robe he offered her after Al’s birth, loosely tied up. This soft colour, almost looking gold, perfectly enhance her angelic figure as well as her magnificent white wings. His eyes then rakes over her body starting with her beautiful face to her shoulders then her voluptuous breasts, which now press more against the robe and finally down to the swelling of her stomach, which also stretches the silky fabric around her hips.

Tom bits his lip at this sight as he eyes the bump with a lustful look. In addition to not spending endless days and nights alone, feeling downhearted and helpless, (Y/N) is now blessing him with a third child, extending their happy family even more for both their enjoyment but also for the kingdom. The young man feels powerful like he never was, but mostly happy.

All this thanks to (Y/N) without whom nothing of this would have been possible.

“You’re done showering, darling?” asks the angel with her delicate voice, to which Tom simply nods. “Good. And the children are finally asleep.”

(Y/N) slightly stretches, a hand low on her back as she arches it to relieve some muscles. Recently Tom starts noticing some changes in his wife’s everyday life, such as flying more often when she could instead of walking, taking more naps and baths than usual, tiredness showing in her eyes or constantly stretching her back like right now. This being her third pregnancy it may seem understandable at some point, but Tom couldn’t help but worry about her well-being.

❞ Did you take a bath before lunch, love? ❞ wonders Tom as sitting normally on the bed.

“I did, yes but it only eased my back pain for two hours or so... And now, my stomach feels a bit swollen and heavy” sighs (Y/N), frowning a little.

She leans her head on one side while looking at Tom with an exasperated face. Her arms are crossed under her breasts, unintentionally opening the robe more on her accentuated cleavage. Being the perfect husband he is, Tom knows he has to do something... something that would help both of them, actually. It is like he almost planned in advance what is about to happen, wishing it with all his heart.

❞ Come here, sweetheart ❞ Tom breaths also tilting his head on his shoulder, his now hungry eyes never leaving (Y/N).

After slowly swaying her luscious hips while walking to him, (Y/N) then stops to stand in front of her husband, standing between his legs. She then could see his eyes darken as they trail down her body and stop at the swell of her belly that is now showing more than last month.

Knowing perfectly the effect she has on him, (Y/N) exhales longly which makes the robe slide from her shoulders and expose more skin of her upper body. She then run her left hand over the bump, the wedding ring shining brightly as it reflects naturally even with the lack of light in the room. Tom can’t help his hands to rest on the back of her thighs, fidgeting with the fabric of her robe still in between his caresses. Then the angel smiles when Tom’s mouth falls open to release a groan.

❞ Fuck. Get over here. Now. ❞

Tom pats his thigh and (Y/N) could just oblige, balancing her hands on both his shoulders. He grins up at his wife as she climbs onto his laps, both legs on the outside of his thighs to straddle him.

Immediately his hands find their way to her hips, still caressing a little over the silk material of the robe before he just unties it. And Tom couldn’t suppress the satisfied grin on his face as her matching nightgown appears in front of him. His angel being pregnant makes the fabric tighten around her breast and stomach, as much as its slightly raises to mid-thigh.

Tom then guides her to sit fully down on his thighs and chuckles when she sighs at the feeling. (Y/N) slowly flaps her white wings and takes her robe fully off, even around them, the clothing item cascading along her arms before falling at Tom’s feet.

❞ Comfortable like this? ❞ the demon asks cautiously, eyeing his wife’s face for any indication as to how she is feeling or what she is thinking about.

(Y/N) looks down at him with a small smile on her face, nodding. The chill air in the bedroom gives her goosebumps. She traces her hands over his broad shoulders, not without admiring his naked and muscular torso, before wandering her delicate fingers at the base of his nape. Tom’s eyes close once he feels her start to massage his buzzed scalp, and hums in pleasure.

He always loves to feel her hands on him, in general. It never fails to make his "friend down there” throb from excitement.

❞ (Y/N)… ❞

Tom whispers as he reaches up to grab the angel’s left hand before bringing it to his lips. He places a soft kiss on the golden ring, powerful symbol of their love and union, before brushing his rough but still soft lips over her knuckles. He turns her hand over so he can drag his lips across the gentle skin of her wrists, as his eyes stare deeply at her face.

When his lips continue to brush higher on her arm, he hears a sigh leave (Y/N)’s plush lips and watches as her eyes suddenly drop closed. Tom smiles softly against her skin.

❞ My beautiful wife and queen... ❞ he mumbles, never stopping his trail up the skin of her arm before moving to the other one, doing the same straight away. ❞ The strongest woman I know... So selfless... ❞ Tom pulls away from her skin to thread his fingers through her long hair and cradles the back of her neck in his hands.

❞ ... and all mine. ❞

With such sudden fervour, Tom brings (Y/N)’s mouth to his and kisses her, long and passionate. The angel melt in his arms, following his every lead as he bites her bottom lip. (Y/N) willingly opens your mouth to allow his tongue to battle with hers. She gasps in his mouth when he removes a hand from her hair to cradle her bottom, pulling her closer to him.

“T-Tom” she moans, kissing her husband with such urgency.

In all honesty, they did not have sex in two months - if not more which may be more actually and quite surprising - because taking care of one child is kinda alright, but two... is completely another story. And ever since (Y/N) got pregnant of their third one, Tom also had a lot of work to deal with while Dottie and Al still need a lot of attention. Constantly. So basically both adults were lately busy every day, the intimate time passing after anything else... and being almost forgotten, in then end.

Until now (Y/N) has not noticed how much she actually missed feeling Tom’s hot skin against her bare body. Being intimate with him is something otherworldly because, on top of knowing her body so well, the young woman feels secure in his arms. She always had. And in return, Tom would use that to his advantage whenever he wants to show (Y/N) exactly how he feels about her.

There is never a day that (Y/N) would ever get sick of being with the King of Hell, her husband. Totally unthinkable.

❞ You have no clue what you do to me, doll ❞ he growls, pulling away from her lips to trail his kisses across her jaw. ❞ I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you... How I got so lucky... ❞ Tom whispers against her ear before returning to ravish the skin of her neck with his teeth and tongue.

(Y/N) moans breathlessly when his tongue drags across her sweet spot before he sucks the patch of skin between his teeth.

“I’m the the lucky one, baby” she breathes out, bringing her hands back to his head. “You’ve been through so much all these past years, and yet you still find time for me and our children, even when I may not be in the best mood. There is no luckier person here than me.”

Tom’s eyes begin to burn as he pulls away from her neck and places his forehead against hers to look straight in the eyes.

❞ The shit I’ve put you through is nothing anyone should have to ever go through, and yet you’ve handled it all with such grace. Like the perfect Queen you are. There’s no one I admire and cherish more than you, (Y/N). You mean the world to me, darling. ❞

His hands move to cover the expanse of her swollen belly underneath her nightgown as he starts to caress the skin with his thumbs.

❞ You, Dottie, Al and this baby. ❞

Her lip trembles at his words, vision growing blurry with fresh tears. The love (Y/N) has for this man is indescribable. There were no words ever created to explain everything he means to her. He is everything she has ever needed and so much more. And knowing that he loves his kids just as much is definitely one of the best feelings in the world.

“God, I can’t even describe how much you mean to me, Tom. Truly, words do not compare” (Y/N) whispers to him, lips brushing against his as he smiles.

❞ Oh trust me, I know exactly how you feel ❞ the devil man chuckles, running his hands up and down her sides beneath the fabric.

There was a moment of silence between the two of them. Pure calm and solitude while Tom hold (Y/N) in his arms and ran his hands over her body. By now the two of them spent enough time together to memorise each other’s conducts during certain times. So, once Tom breathes softly against her neck, she knows the angel has to hear for herself exactly what is going through his head.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” (Y/N) inquires, pulling away to clearly see his face.

His coffee eyes are still dark, his chest heaving against her lush one. He could still feel her clothed heat against his thighs and now that they are so close, he could feel her stomach flat against his, the bump brushing against his naked abs.

He chuckles breathily before running a hand on top of his head, which creates a scratching noice under his palm.

❞ Would it be crude of me to say that your swollen stomach makes me hard? ❞

(Y/N) gasps in shock at his words, not expecting them in the slightest. Tom looks up at his angelic wife with a mischievous glint in his honey brown orbs, and she couldn’t help but then giggle at his typical cheeky attitude.

“It would but then again, you wouldn’t be Tom if you weren’t at least a little crude at times” she teases as she laughs when he feigns offense.

❞ Ooh you are in for it now, angel! ❞

Suddenly Tom chides before grabbing (Y/N) by the thighs and gently roll their bodies onto the bed, him being now on top of her. The angel squeals at the same time, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and arms winding around his neck.

He smiles down at her before moving down to kiss her, his lips gliding effortlessly against her mouth. The demon king loves to take her breath away with just a touch of his lips. Tom smiles against the angel’s lips while still gliding his lips across hers.

❞ Hope you’re ready, I’m about to rock the world of my gorgeous pregnant queen tonight ❞ Tom grins widely when (Y/N) lets out a loud laugh at his words.

“You’re being cheesy tonight, I see?” she giggles, her cheeks stretching widely to accommodate to the large grin on her perfect face.

Tom admires the glint of happiness in her eyes, with an ounce of mischief too, and tries to process the fact that he is the one and only man making this divine creature beneath him so happy.

❞ Yeah but I mean, you love that about me ❞ the man smirks, kissing (Y/N) on the corners of her mouth then cheeks, forehead and lastly her nose. ❞ And you signed up to it all when you married me so, no going back now pretty lady.❞

Her eyes flutter because of all his kisses, then she smiles softly at her husband.

“Oh yes, I did” she chuckles before continuing “And I love you with all my heart. And I always will” (Y/N) whispers, cupping his cheeks in her delicate hands before running her fingers over his defined cheekbones and jawline.

Tom can’t stop his eyes from burning with passion as his wife proclames her love for him once again.

❞ I love you ❞ he mumbles before capturing her lips for a passionate kiss.

Tom navigates his body fully between her legs, swallowing the strangled moan his angel release when he rolls his hips against her sore one. He then begins to push the silk fabric of her nightgown up to finally reveal her stomach, before he proceeds to cradle her soft visage in one hand while he places the other flat against her round and swollen belly.

He just growls when he feels the bump against his warm palm and pulls away from (Y/N)’s lips. He continues by devouring her neck as he pushes the nightdress higher up to reveal your bare breasts. The demon pulls away from her neck and stares down at her tempting curves and groans, his cock twitching at the sight.

❞ So fucking gorgeous ❞ Tom states breathlessly, reaching up to engulf gently her sensitive breasts in his large hands to massage them. His cock hardens and twitches again when (Y/N) moans from his touch, arching her back and rolling her hips against his to create some friction.

Tom grunts as he feels (Y/N) drag her hips against his still clothed hard-on and decides that both of them are wearing too many clothes for his liking.

He removes his hands from her breasts and tugs the nightdress over her head. The angel then leans up in order to let him take it off entirely, her white wings adjusting on her back. At the same time she also enjoys the sight of him, already standing half naked over her, his perfectly sculpted chest and abs making her bite her lip and almost drool.

Her husband is indeed handsome, breathtakingly beautiful, the scars on his back and shoulders only magnifying that beauty. Every time (Y/N) sees the multiple cuts he tried to hide at the beginning, all she wants to do is kiss every single one to remind her king that he should never be ashamed of them. Ever.

(Y/N) unconsciously licks her lips as she admires him. Tom catches it and smirks down at his wife, newfound confidence surging through his veins. She never fails to make him feel good about himself. One simple look needed and he could tell (Y/N) loves him no matter the scars on his body or who he is.

❞ Like what ya see, gorgeous? ❞ Tom rasps as he runs his hands up her sides, smirking when he feels her shiver beneath his touch.

“Always, baby.”

(Y/N) watches as he smiles ardently at her before he reaches up to cup her right cheek in his hand. He runs his thumb along your cheekbone and then drags the pad of his calloused finger across her bottom lip. The angel slightly turns her head into his palm and starts leaving open mouthed kisses onto it, as her hands wrap around his wrist to maintain him in place.

His eyes darken as watches (Y/N) starts lightly biting the skin of his palm, and then giving it little kitten licks. Tom curses softly when he feels his cock twitch painfully in his now too tight sweatpants, and he knows he can’t wait any longer.

Tom wants her so bad. He needs to have her. Right here, right now. Just the thought of feeling her wet insides flutter around his pulsing member takes the demon to some unholy places in his mind. And he loves it.

Almost reluctantly Tom removes his hand from her mouth and bends down to sloppily lick one of your sensitive nipples.

He hears (Y/N) gasp loudly before he sees her back arch, pushing her breast further into his mouth as he wraps his lips around the now hardening bud.

“Aah, Tommy-” she moans, trying her best to grind her hips against his.

When Tom feels her struggling to get some relief, he pulls away from her nipple with a loud ‘pop’. The angel starts letting out little whines at the loss of his hot tongue on her body.

❞ Worry not, my Queen ❞ Tom says huskily as he finally decides to tug her thin lace panties down her impeccable legs, revealing the secret garden that is her dripping heat to his hungry eyes. ❞ I will take good care of you, like I always do. ❞

He doesn’t tear his lustful gaze away from her, in awe as (Y/N) pants loudly underneath him. Tom then removes his sweatpants, not caring to untie them before hand, the fabric falling on the ground to now expose his naked glory because he definitely went commando after his shower.

The young queen gasps at the obscene yet erotic sight of his hard cock staying flat against his stomach, the tip red and swollen, leaking precum. She feels wetness pool between her legs and just moan, eyeing his hand as it wraps around his length and begins to pump slowly.

Tom eyes (Y/N)’s body hungrily from above her, moving his unoccupied hand to her pussy where he spreads her wet lips to rub her clit with his thumb, not without paying close attention to any sign of discomfort coming from his pregnant wife.

(Y/N) squeals, rolling her hips against his hand as much as her body allows her to, while Tom drags his fingers between her folds and massages her clit. When the angel feels him enter one finger into her clenching hole, she throws her head back and arches even more against his hand.

❞ Fuck baby girl, you are so wet ❞ Tom groans, pumping his hand faster around his cock.

“Tommy- Oh my-!” (Y/N) nearly screams when he adds another finger and pumps them harder and deeper into her warm insides.

Tom’s eyes widen when he looks back at her round stomach, which moves rapidly up and down as she breathes deeply. He feels his cock twitch in his hand and lets out a rough grunt, suddenly taking his fingers out of her core and removing his hand from himself.

❞ That’s it, I can’t fucking take anymore ❞ he growls, positioning himself between (Y/N)’s legs. He then gently grabs the back of her knees to pull her towards him, the angel whining when his hard cock brushes close to her core.

“Please take me, Tommy. I’m all yours, please” (Y/N) moans as she rolls her hips against his cock.

Tom feels like coming straight away but he resists somehow, instead brushing his pulsing member between her wet folds and flicking the head against her clit.

The demon king hovers over his wife’s body, placing his forehead against hers and balancing on his arms on each side of her head as he places the tip of his cock at her entrance. He looks into her bright eyes when he slowly enters the angel, her walls stretching deliciously around him.

Both beings moan in unison before Tom leans down to capture (Y/N)’s lips, swallowing every choked cries and whines as he begins to thrust in and out of her.

“Ooh Tommy, oh, aah-” she gasps breathlessly when he slams his hips into her bloated one.

❞ (Y/N)- ❞ Tom moans in return, pulling away to drop his head on her shoulder. He kisses the soft skin of her shoulder before thrusting faster and groaning into her skin. ❞ You are the best thing that ever happened to me, baby girl. ❞

His words bring tears to her eyes, thanks to the messy pregnant’s hormones,  and (Y/N) almost releases a cry as she pushes her hips in hope to meet with his thrusts. She can feel every ridge and thick vein of his cock as he drives it into her and the purely euphoric feeling makes her dizzy. The angel grabs onto Tom, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders and running a hand through his entire face, his thrusts intensifying even more.

“You are my world, Tommy. I love your more than anything and I promise to stay by your side until the end of the world” (Y/N) moans in his ear, reassuring him.

Tom grunts at his wife’s words, all kind of emotions mixing up in his head as he makes love to (Y/N). Suddenly, he slows his pace a little so now he is rocking into her deep and hard. She whines desperately at this change, grinding against his skin.

The demon pulls himself up so he can look between their bodies, carefully watching as he thrusts slowly in and out of her wet pussy. Then his brown eyes land on her visible baby bump and Tom feels himself pulse inside of her as his eyes roll into his head. He moans loudly, moving a hand between both their bodies to flatten it against her stomach.

❞ Shit angel, I’m s-so lucky to have you... The four of you” Tom almost whines, rolling his hips harder into hers as his pelvic now brushes against her clit.

“Tommy, I’m so close! Aah-” (Y/N) cries out at the feeling and throw her head back, arching against him more.

She then gasps when he growls violently before speeding up his thrusts again and literally drilling into her. (Y/N) grabs onto him tightly and drags her nails against his scalp, stealing a grunt from his chest.

Tom sloppily links his lips with hers when he feels the angel clench tightly around him, so he thrusts deeper and faster before moving the hand that was on her stomach to her clit.

❞ Come for me, my gorgeous wife. My gorgeous queen. Come for me ❞ Tom growls in her ear, rubbing her clit vigorously.

(Y/N) screams at the never stopping stimulation. Her legs start trembling and body shaking as she clenches around his member, coating his cock in cum as she finally reaches her orgasm. Tom watches closely as she comes undone beneath him and lets out a moan, his hips faltering as he releases his seed inside of her tight insides.

He flattens his hand on her belly, feeling the warm and sweaty skin of her baby bump again and comes harder, biting his bottom lip to prevent himself to be too vocal this late at night. Endless streams of his come splash against her walls, their juices mixing together, and Tom rides out both their orgasms until he just collapses his upper body on top of (Y/N).

“Oh lord, Tom, you’re heavy!” the angel huffs as she then giggles at her husband.

Tom only hums in response, his voice slightly hoarse from their previous activity, while wrapping his strong arms around her body. But not feeling too well in this position - also not to accidentally hurt (Y/N) -, Tom slowly lets himself slide on the sheet to now snuggle up against his wife’s frame, remaining inside of her.

(Y/N) looks up at him through her post-orgasmic vision and is pleased to notice him just cuddling onto her with closed eyes, his chest heaving with exhaustion. As a kind smile makes its way to her face, she leans up to kiss his jaw which makes him sigh gently.

“You are amazing Tom, in every way. An amazing king, husband and father. I am so proud of you” (Y/N) softly whispers to him, brushing delicately her fingers against his cheek.

The angel then proceeds to move her hand higher and massage his head, feeling the short buzzed hair brush her palm and paying extra attention to his nape, a bit sweaty. After enjoying her pleasant caresses, Tom opens one of his eyes to peak at the angel.

❞ I would be nothing without you, baby. Just useless, an empty envelop with no reason to live. ❞

(Y/N) looks absolutely breathtaking to him, and since the day they met. The amazing post-orgasmic glow that suits her so well is something he could look at for years. Her lips swollen and impossibly red like her cheeks, hair a mess and eyes half closed. And not forgetting her naked figure which the demon loves to worship during these intimate times, shining with sweat but still an absolute delicacy that only him can savour as he wants.

(Y/N) can feel him start to get slightly hard again when he brushes his fingers over her pregnant stomach. As his face never leaves its comfy place on her chest, the demon king silently wishes to feel his unborn heir move under his touch. His wife continues to leave kisses on his sweaty forehead, closing her tired eyes, almost falling asleep in the lovely embrace of her husband.

❞ ... I’m guessing your stomach doesn’t hurt anymore? ❞

Intrigued by this question, (Y/N) slowly reopens her eyes to lower her gaze on Tom’s face. As she raises her eyebrows, she has no time to answer before Tom speaks again.

❞ Sex is definitely THE best option to ease pregnancy pains. Not like I’m gonna complain about it. ❞

"You better prepare a warm bubbly bath for us and carry me there, before I get upset” states (Y/N), her cheeks even redder now because of Tom’s stupid comment.

And the devil king can’t suppress his cheeky smirk as his wife avoids his gaze, still being cute.

❞ Your wish is my command, my Queen! ❞

* * * *

The bedroom is still plunged into darkness, but the daylight manages to make its way through an open spot left by the curtains. Humming as she slowly wakes up, (Y/N) blinks a few times before staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. Her hands go to her belly by instinct, massaging it as she draws circles on it, before she turns her head towards Tom.

Still fast asleep, the demon king did not move since they both went to sleep - after taking another bath together and dressing up for the night. His build frame stays on the side, an arm under (Y/N)’s head and his free hand resting at the bottom of her now covered stomach.

(Y/N) brushes her plump lips on his chin to then leave a light kiss on his lips, carefully to not wake him up. She links one of her hands with his own that stays on her stomach, intertwining their fingers.

But as the young queen tries to fall back asleep, her mother’s intuition goes on alert and her head turns towards the door of the bedroom. No sound can be heard on the other side of the room, only a deep and calm silence that resonates in the whole castle. When suddenly...

*tap tap tap*

The almost faint noise of footsteps slowly increase in the corridor, now catching the full attention of (Y/N). One corner of her lips raises, perfectly knowing the owners of this sound. Tom still being in the arms of Morpheus, mouth parted enough to let some soft snores at times, the angel prefers to not move until the “special guests” make their final appearance.

And speak of the devil (no pun intended, or not)...

The doorknob starts to slowly turn, creating a quick and discreet ‘click’ which allows the door to finally open. (Y/N) keeps watching closely towards it, trying to see through the half-open door. And as expected, a double pair of eyes can be seen, a bit sleepy, and little by little two very familiar round faces appear.

Dottie and Al immediately find their mother’s eyes as if asking for her permission to enter the matrimonial bedroom. After warmly allowing both her children with a nod and a smile, the two tiny beings make their way inside, Dottie making sure to silently close the door behind her little brother and her, and then fly together towards their parents.

As they kiss their mother on the cheek and tummy - because they already care a lot about their unborn brother or sister -, little Al notices his father still sound asleep between the sheets. Not needing to be asked twice, the little boy careful goes between both his parents’ bodies and tries to make himself some place as he goes under the cover. Tom lightly groans at the movements next to him, but only secures his grip tighter around his wife plus now his young son. (Y/N) then opens the sheets with her free hand, inviting her daughter to join their cuddle. Dottie goes also under the warm sheet, getting close to her mum and snuggling against her. Feeling yet another presence in the bed, Tom’s hand which already maintain (Y/N) and Al close to him now reaches for his daughter.

The silence of the early morning remains still. (Y/N) lets out a pleased sigh, getting even more confortable between the soft warmth of the bed and her loving family. Slowly, sleep overcomes her and her children all over again, soon joining the head of the family for another resting time into dreamland.

Who could have thought about having this delightful type of afterlife?

* * * *

Ten months later.

.

.

« « Who’s the most beautifuuuuuul baby of all time? » »

❞ Give me back my daughter, Z... ❞

Happy babbles echo in the living room, animated first by Tom who tries to take back his five-month daughter Mia from Zendaya’s grasp, and on the other hand Dottie and Al playing together next to the group of adults.

(Y/N) sat on the large couch next to her husband, giggling at his attitude as he almost makes grabby hands to Zendaya, hoping she would finally give the newly born child to him. (Y/N) lovingly caresses his back, getting close to him and eyeing her third child in the arms of her trustful friend from Heaven.

“Thank you for visiting us, Zendaya” begins (Y/N), “Mia seems to like you already.”

« « Obviously she loves her godmother a lot, right little one? » » smiles Zendaya as she keeps smiling widely to the baby, tickling her tummy to make little Mia show her toothless smile again.

Tom couldn’t help the grown leaving his mouth, lightly banging his head against (Y/N)’s. The angel queen kisses his temple in hope of appeasing her husband’s pouting face.

On Mia’s back, two tiny wings start growing slowly. The colour of her feathers is still undetermined but it may be a mix of white and black ones, like her eldest sister and brother. Mia’s features will for sure be a beautiful mix of her parents, her eyes already big and kind like her mother’s and deep brown like her father’s.

Harrison enters the living room, bringing a rolling cart with different drinks and delicacies on it. Both Dottie and Al stop playing as they hear it coming their way, their throat dry and little stomach empty after so much playtime. Dottie stands first and waits for Harrison to stop the cart, meanwhile Al goes to his father asking for some attention. The demon king immediately takes his son in his arms, sitting him on his laps.

‘Can I get some apple juice for Al and I, please Haz?’ Dottie politely asks the demon.

‘ Of course, dear. Right away. ‘

Dottie brings the first glass to her brother, carefully passing it in his little hands before asking the others if they want to drink something too.

“Just a glass of water for me, sweetheart. Dad will share his wine with me.”

❞ Hmm, I still need to think about that, beautiful ❞ replies Tom with a cheeky tone, while slowly kissing his wife’s cheek which makes her chuckle.

« « Don’t get all lovey-dovey in front of your kids, dammit. Gross, ew! Al, look at auntie Daya. » »

❞ Don’t swear in front of my children! ❞

Once everyone got served their drink, Dottie flies back to her mother to sit on her laps, enjoying her apple juice as she vividly looks at everyone but mostly at her new little sister. Then Harrison prepares two little plates to fill with some homemade cakes for both his godchildren.

❞ Honestly, Harrison is killin’ it at being a good godfather with the kids. They might start loving him more than you if you- ❞

« « Shut up, Hell Boy » » interrupts Zendaya, upset but still with her usual sass.

“The kids would love to see you more often, Zendaya” softly takes part (Y/N) while sipping into Tom’s wine glass before giving it back to him.

Zendaya deeply sighs and looks at little Mia catching Al’s index finger into her tiny fist. She brushes the baby’s wild growing hair back while caressing the tender rosy skin with her finger, not helping the smile on her face.

« « I know, (Y/N) and I want to but sometimes, I’m just overflowing under work. It’s not easy to be a Superior Angel, trust me. » »

❞ Being the King of Hell AND a father at the same time is not easy either, trust me on that ❞ sighs Tom back, ❞ But I’ve never been happier so I can’t complain at all. ❞

Tom smiles lovingly at (Y/N), making the angel sit closer to him and snuggle her face against his. Dottie also cuddles with Al as the two siblings look at little Mia, who constantly watches around anything that happens.

The scene warms Zendaya’s heart.

« « Also, you are all welcome to come to Heaven, you know that, right? Mostly because of business talk and all that jazz, but the Superiors would be glad to meet little Mia too » » continues Zendaya as she strokes Mia’s cheek.

“We were actually discussing about it with Tom the other day” says (Y/N), sorting out the feather’s mess of her children because of their last playing session. “Dottie and Al want to visit Heaven again too, am I right?”

‘YES PLEASE!’ both Dottie and Al screams together, little Al saying something like that because he is still too young to talk properly.

(Y/N) and Zendaya laugh at so much energy coming from the children. As Tom put his now empty glass away, he nods to Harrison to join them on the couch as he slides an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and kisses her cheek.

Heaven and Hell might be opposite places with different rules and ways of thinking.

But in the end, they both have the same goal: giving the right afterlife to people, and fixing their faults when mistakes were done.

.

.

- - -   END OF ‘HEAVENLY YOURS’ MINI SERIES  - - -

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[supersoldiersruined-me]

A/N:  Hii! I’m so happy I get to post again! And it may apear odd to some that I’m writing Henry, but lately I’ve had a vibe and well... this ensued. Hopefully I can get a few other drabbles out shortly, including the left-out days from the Kinktober challenge! Thank you so much for sticking around! 💕 Word count: 1051 Warnings: grinding, swearing, smut, a bit of cum play? ish? Pairing: Henry x Reader

Main Masterlist 

“Come on, love,” he puffed heavily, “don’t be a tease.”

“Says the man with those god awful pants,” she added, just as breathless.

She moved slowly to push his leg to the side with her knee and set it between his thighs. With her hands grounded on his shoulders, fingers digging in the hard flesh, she started to rock her hips onto the clothed leg. He knew just as she that the material was bound to be drenched in no time.

“I need yo-”

“Henry, stop talking, baby,” she begged, her eyes closing in sync with his. He brought his hands to her her knees, and danced them up her legs, until they reached the crease of her hips. He gave them a gentle squeeze and she began to move faster. It wasn’t the first time she’d abused his attributes, but it always brought him back to his bartending years, when he’d have quick dry humps in the stock room of the club. She missed him incredibly while he was gone filming.

He’d gotten home from the award show to her asleep in front of the TV, her game of Kingdom Hearts paused on the menu. The lack of soft snores and how the ice cream still held itself in the bowl indicated that she hadn’t given into slumber for long. He looked at her and how her boxer shorts rode up her ass while he rid himself of his jacket and tie. He approached quietly, until he hit his shin onto the coffee table and started swearing through gritted teeth. 

“Bloody fuck,” he cursed.

“Huh?” She propped herself onto her elbows and looked back, panicked. Until her eyes landed on his and she melted back into the soft cushion. “Jesus…”

“I’m so sorry, love,” he said, finishing his travel to the couch. He sat next to her head and she crawled so it was laying on his thigh. His fingers found their way to her hair instinctively.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she hummed. Her own hands began to wander. “So happy.”

He bent forward and grabbed the Playstation remote before clearing his throat;

“Mind if I do?” He waved it, and proceeded to change the game without waiting. He felt her head wave yes onto his thigh as her hand reached higher; a slow shiver ran up his spine.

A few minutes later he was sprawled on his back with her between his thighs as he so desperately tried to focus on his game. But with his hands on her lower back and her lips devilishly playing at the thin skin of his neck, the situation was becoming hard to handle. She bucked her hips back and forth into him. Tired but agile fingers started taking care of the buttons confining his chest.

Another instant later, and she had him half dressed and already closing her first release.

“Always so good to me,” she mewled.

“You know I love feeling you ruining my clothes, babe.” His statement was punctuated with the sound of some plastic buttons scattering across the floor; her fingers twirled into his newly exposed, thick chest hair. He hummed pleasingly - the deep rumble sent another wave gushing from her core. “That’s it,” he praised.

His name left her lips in a sweet symphony, playing over and over and he wished it never stopped. His hips started moving to their own accord, and he tried. He tried so hard not to give in to the need; to have her plastered underneath him on the couch and fuck her senseless. To see the way she looked with her messed up hair flowing over her face. How she’d be so warm around him. But he waited. She needed him, though. Craved him - and he wasn’t about to deny her the pleasure no matter how evil her plan was to get there.

He reached between them to the zipper of his pants, quickly unfastening them before the snap came off. His cock stayed in his boxers, but his eagerness was apparent. He kept thrusting up into them, trying to get some friction of his own. Then she looked at him that way, and he knew exactly what she needed. 

He wrapped his arms around her and stood up, grabbing her like she weighed nothing - there had to be ups to the constant training. He walked them to the nearest wall and harshly set her back into it before grinding their cores together.

“Fuck,” she whimpered at the feel of his cock. If his own arousal wasn’t enough, her soaked panties slowly transferred to his briefs and together they created the warmest, gushiest mix that had them both flipping.

“You smell so good. So hormonal. Bet you waited for me to fuck that pretty cunt, huh?” His words had her blanking out. She arched her back as best she could into his embrace, until his arms joined into the movement, making her hips rock into him at an alarming rate.

“Yes! Yes!” They both chanted, loud and untamed moans filling the room. Every part of their bodies dripped with effort as they both neared their end - every piece of clothing stained with sinful desire.

“I’m right… Fuck, I’m right there,” he warned. She reached for his collar and brought him close so their mouths could crash together. Her sweet muffled hums had him tipping over the edge, and he creamed his boxers, his cum slowly seeping through the fabric.

“Henry,” she screamed, and the warmth of his release onto her clit had her coming in return, her body convulsing in his arms until they gave out and they found themselves tumbling down to the ground, her exposed stomach cleaning him down.

They took a moment to compose themselves, enjoying the cool marble floor as their bodies came to. Taking his shirt off, he wiped the sweat of her face, down her neck, until he reached her breasts and stopped.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, shy of a whisper.

“I’m afraid if I touch you, I’ll be starting something again,” he admitted with a chuckle.

She sat up, straddling his lap once more and they both hissed as their sensitive parts rubbed together. His eyes turned dark in warning and he slowly started bringing them up to their feet. 

“I’m sorry,” she mouthed, but it was too late...

[joon-ipersgirl]

O4 - “serendipity”

genre: strangers to lovers!au, angst, fluff

pairing: jimin x reader (f)

summary: they say home is where the heart is. you’re convinced yours was taken the day your father died. until you meet jimin. 

you believe in love but after watching men cycle through your mother’s arms, rocky relations with ex-boyfriends, and broken friendships, you no longer see it in your future. so much so, you never settle in one place long enough to create ties and call it home, choosing a job where you’re always on the go and on your own. 

on a chance encounter on a flight from new york city to bali, indonesia, you meet. flustered by jimin’s flirty advances but understanding and good-natured tendencies, you start to fall. what starts off as a work-trip soon blossoms into a budding romance, but will jimin’s secret destroy the relationship before it’s had the chance to truly begin?

word count: 5.5k

warnings: cursing, lots of fluff lol

a/n: part 4 wow! this is my favorite part i’ve written so far. it was a little difficult to edit but we made it. i hope you guys enjoy it. it might be a while before the next part is posted because i have to finish writing and i’ve had major writer’s block lmao, but i’ll try and update my updates page as often as i can. thank you guys for your comments and likes. as always, they are very much so appreciated. thank you to vi for listening to me rant about my stories. enjoy everyone!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Jimin looked drained by the time his conversation was over. His hair was out of place from the numerous times he had run his fingers through it out of frustration. Even his eyes looked like they had lost their usual glimmer, instead clouded with anger and exasperation. Though you hadn’t known him for long - in fact,  you’re sure it had really only been 40 hours - you knew something was wrong from the downturn of his lips.

“Ready to go?” Jimin asked as he shoved his phone into his pocket.

“Is everything okay?” you asked as you stood and pocketed your own phone, your own happiness taking a backseat to check on him.

“Yeah, yeah.” He ran his fingers through his hair again and looked away from you. “Just some stuff back home.”

“Work stuff?” you suggested with a wry smile. He returned it.

“Yeah, work stuff,” he said with a laugh.

As you headed back in the direction of the hostel, your thoughts drifted back to Milo. Seeing his photo made your heart pound in your chest in the best and worst way possible. He still looked like your little brother, but you knew time had brought changes you weren’t around for. Though Adele said she had given him your number, it was quite possible that he wouldn’t want to speak to you, not after you left him at the worst possible time. It would be a miracle if you could fix what was broken. What you broke.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You blinked up at Jimin.

“I asked if you were hungry?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Food sounds good right now,” you replied.

“Great, because I owe you a meal anyway,” he grinned.

“Oh, you mean for not finding me breakfast at 2:30 in the morning?” you teased. He rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah, that,” he mumbled and slipped his hand in your as he tugged you through the streets of Hong Kong.

Jimin maneuvered through the bustling crowd with ease, their chatter filling the spaces between you. The evening was still as hot as the daytime and your hair started clinging to the side of your face. You knew there was a fine sheen of sweat present on your skin; you could feel it. You passed by numerous food places, but none of them were up to Jimin’s standard. All the while, his hand never left yours. You were actually starting to like it even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

“Yeah, this looks like the spot,” Jimin commented as you stopped abruptly in front of the establishment.

Mingsu’s was a quaint little restaurant nestled between some larger chains. Four sets of plastic tables and chairs sat on the sidewalk under a clear awning. The smell of food wafted from the open front door and your stomach grumbled. Yeah, this was definitely the spot.

“Your seat m’lady.” Jimin pulled out your chair and you sat carefully in it; these were the kind that would lay you on your ass and not think twice about it.

“Why thank you, kind Sir.” You bowed your head as a lady would curtsy. He sat across from you looking like he really could be the son of a mighty Lord during the Anglo-Saxon time period come home from the hunt, his hair sticking to his forehead.

It didn’t take long for your waitress, a middle-aged woman who looked to be just as hot as you were, to come and take your order. You listened in awe again as Jimin translated your orders. To think that it would be just your luck to be stranded in a foreign country with a man who also happened to speak the native tongue. God really looked out for you here and you couldn’t be more indebted.

“So how exactly did you learn to speak Cantonese?” you asked, swirling your straw between the ice cubes in your glass full of water, the condensation sliding down the sides. Your curiosity had finally gotten the best of you.

“My dad, actually. He taught me Korean and Cantonese simultaneously,” he replied, sipping on his Coke. “It wasn’t that fun in the moment, but I guess it comes in handy every now and then.”

“Like when you’re stranded in a foreign country because your plane got fucked up?”

“More like when you want to impress a pretty girl.” He grinned as he rested his chin on his palm while he stared at you. You blushed under his gaze.

“I can only imagine how flirty Mr. Park senior is,” you said with a laugh.

“Actually, he’s not. All the traits of me you find quite insufferable -” he added air quotes around the word “- are from my mom. Dad always thought we were ganging up on him when I was a kid, but Mom and I just have the same sense of humor,” he said with a shrug.

“Your mom and you are closer then I assume?” You couldn’t fathom being close with Adele, not after all of her shit, but it was nice to hear that someone enjoyed their mother’s company.

“As close as you can be when she lives 4,242 miles away,” he chuckled. You gasped. Before you could continue your conversation, your waitress returned with your roasted pork buns, stir-fried beef and flat noodles, steamed sticky rice, and an array of side dishes. Your mouth watered at the sight and you and Jimin wasted no time tucking in.

“Wait, I thought you were a vegetarian?” you asked after swallowing. Jimin glanced up at you with a mouth full roasted pork bun like a deer in headlights.

“Not really. Well, I guess that isn’t correct. I do my part to reduce my meat intake when I’m at home, but when I’m traveling, I like to indulge a little in the local delicacies of the world,” he answered.

“And that doesn’t fuck your stomach up?” You grimaced at the thought.

“Why? Are you worried about me?”

“No, I’m worried about that cramped bathroom we have back at the hostel.” Jimin laughed. “Especially if you decide you need to -”

“I promise you Y/N, I’ll be okay. Trust me.” you continued to eye him warily as you chewed some noodles. You hoped he was right.

“Does your mom really live 4,000 miles from you?” Jimin nodded but told you to hold that thought as he called your waitress over. Throughout their brief conversation, you thought you heard the word ‘sake’ being mentioned and you panicked slightly at the thought of drinking with Jimin. You didn’t know how you would act. Hell, you weren’t sure how he would act if drunk words were sober thoughts.

“To answer your question, yes. She does. She lives in the United Kingdom. Has done for the past 11 years. We text a lot and talk on the phone whenever the time difference permits.”

“Wow, your parents must love it there!” you exclaimed, picturing the London Eye, the double-decker red buses, and Buckingham Palace. London had been on my list of places to travel for a long time, but it had never worked out.

“Mom does, Dad didn’t. He’s back home now, home being Korea. No, they aren’t divorced or separated,” Jimin said, answering your unasked question after noticing your wide eyes. “They have a long-distance relationship and fly out to see one another every couple of weeks.”

“Sounds expensive,” you muttered.

Jimin graciously accepted the teapot and two porcelain white cups your waitress brought over, somehow finding space for them in between the various plates. He poured you a full cup and pushed it in front of you, waiting for me to accept his challenge as he raised his own glass, his usual mischievous glimmer back in his eyes. You carefully picked it up and watched the wispy tendrils of steam evaporate in the air.

“Sip, don’t toss it back,” Jimin guided you. “A toast! To friendship. And to love,” he tacked on playfully. You smiled as you clinked glasses and sipped the clear rice wine. Though it looked like water, it definitely didn’t taste like it.

“And it is expensive,” Jimin continued. “But they do it because they love each other.  I guess you could call it an unconventional marriage. They realized they work a lot better apart than being in the same space. They tried to do it the traditional way, Dad convincing Mom to move back to Korea with him while she was pregnant with me and the two of them getting married. She did it for a while too until she just physically couldn’t. She loved my Dad, but she loved herself enough to be honest with him when things weren’t working and they figured it out together. Now, they’re extremely happy,” he ended with a laugh and finished the remainder of his drink.

“So you were born in Korea?”

“Yes.”

“But you live in the United States?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I just -”

“Is it because I don’t speak in accented English?”

“No!” you cried out in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant at all!” Jimin’s unrestrained laugh rang out and it was only then that you realized he was teasing. Again. You tossed back the rest of my drink, unsure of whether your face was burning because of the alcohol or him.

“Relax, Shutterfly. I’m not offended. Dad took me to the U.S. after Mom moved back to the U.K. I lost my accent when I got to high school because you know, teenagers suck and they like to bully you when you’re different.” You nodded in complete understanding. The harsh whispers of girls older than you and with the memories of them shoving you onto the ground because you were smaller and looked like you were easy to pick on trickled down from the deep recesses of your mind. “Enough about me though,” Jimin said as he refilled your cup, “How about you? What’s your family like?”

You paused as he waited for you to answer. You toyed with how much you would say to him, how much he really deserved to know. Jimin could afford to be open with you; his family sounded normal, cool even. Your family was a little bit more fucked up than his. you sighed and pushed your fingers through your hair.

“You know, the usual. Dad’s dead, mom’s a bitch, brother hates me,” you replied, your words blending into one another as you waved off the subject with a hand. Jimin stared at you evenly as he processed what you had just said. He cleared his throat before asking if you wanted to elaborate.

“Not really, but it’s okay,” you answered.

“No, Y/N,” he placed his hand on top of mine. “If you really don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

“Seriously, it’s cool. It’ll probably do me a lot of good to finally let it all out,” you said with a sigh. “My parents’ love story isn’t like yours. I mean, it kind of started off the same, but it definitely didn’t end that way.” Jimin nodded as he chewed in silence. Your own plate was now left untouched.

“So my dad named me. I was his little girl, his princess. He wasn’t from the best side of town and often got into it with a lot of the local gang members. He saw a lot of shitty stuff and so he left as soon as he turned 18. He landed in California and that’s where he met Adele. Her family had just moved there and she decided to be rebellious and hook up with my dad, acting out because she didn’t want to leave her old life behind. She ended up pregnant with me 2 years later at 18 after they ‘fell in love’,” you said, adding the air quotes around the phrase.

“Being the honorable man that he was, he decided to marry my mother and moved her to New York where he thought he could take better care of her. More job opportunities as and what not. Two years later, my brother came along and things were going pretty good, except when Adele started demanding more and more shit. Dad tried to provide, working longer hours, but it was never enough. Eventually, it was too much. He died of a heart attack when I was in high school. I was sixteen,” you finished. You didn’t look at Jimin as you drained your sake.

“Thank you for sharing that with me even though you didn’t really want to. I appreciate it,” he said solemnly. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“No, it’s fine. Only fair.”

“I don’t think fair is in this equation,” he chuckled and you laughed along with him. “Why do you think your brother hates you?” he asked after a beat.

“Because I left him,” you responded. “I left him alone and ran away from all my problems as soon as I turned 18.” Regret bubbled in your chest as you remembered purposefully ignoring the wave of text messages he sent you and carried on with your new life, focusing on your new man.

“I don’t think he hates you, Y/N.” you laughed bitterly. “Where’d you run away to?”

“California.”

“You sound a lot like your dad,” he replied with a smile. “Viva la revolución right?”

You groaned and covered your face in your hands. “Please don’t tell me you speak Spanish too.” you muttered a string of curses in the language before clamping your hands over your mouth in case he could hear and understand you.

“I don’t, but I see you do. You never told me you could speak Spanish,” he commented as he sipped more sake.

“You never asked,” you teased, your smile humorous as you stared at him from over your own cup.

Jimin’s cheeks had a pretty pink hue from the alcohol. In addition, the alcohol seemed to amplify the gleam in his eyes further as he teased you throughout your conversation. Under the low lighting of Mingsu’s, his skin glowed, a thin sheen of sweat present that you found oddly attractive on him. You closed your eyes gently as you willed the troublesome thoughts away. This was not the time nor the place for them to pop up, not with more than a few ounces of sake under your belt.

You finished the rest of your food, Jimin eating much more than you, and chatted more. You found out he was a freelance museum curator that was under contract for a few different small museums in New York City. A huge downplay on his part, but it explained how he knew so much about art and had all these artsy friends. He was well-educated with a Masters in Fine Arts, a concentration in Art History, and you felt intimidated as you’d barely managed to scrape together an Associates degree.

“Hey look!” Jimin turned his phone screen to you after it chimed. “Looks like we really are leaving tomorrow. Joy even got us seats next to each other like she promised,” he said.

“Of course she did,” you mumbled, remembering Joy’s enthusiasm over Jimin.

“What was that?” he asked as he cupped his ear with his hand.

“I said ‘Yay! Joy managed to get us to sit together. How fantastic. Now we can sit together again’,” you lied with fake zeal.

“Hmm. That’s what I thought you said. Though for a minute there I thought you were jealous of the attention I was getting from other women.” You could tell the nonchalance in his voice was just as fake as the enthusiasm in your own.

“Me? Jealous over you?” You snorted at the thought. Jimin held his chest, his face falling in a look of fake disappointment.

“Damn Y/N, all you had to do was say you didn’t like me -”

“I never said that!”

“Ah, so you do like me then?” He wiggled his eyebrows as he leaned across the table.

“I never said that either!” you giggled and pointed your finger at him. He pretended to bite it and you pulled it away squealing. Jimin laughed at your reaction as the waitress came over. He pulled out his wallet and you scrambled to take out your own until you realized you’d left your own wallet back at the hostel. You blanched.

“Jimin I can’t let you pay for all this!” The mountain of empty plates a reminder of just how much you had eaten.

“Of course you can,” he said as he handed over his card. You scrambled for something to say, to make him return his card, but it was already too late. You shook your head furiously.

“I can pay you back, seriously. This was a lot of food. And then the drinks!” you squeaked. Alcohol was expensive and you had consumed two full teapots of sake. “Please, Jimin,” you begged.

He held his ground as he signed the check and the waitress began removing the dirty dishes. “Absolutely not, Shutterfly. I still owe you an actual breakfast and think of this as me showing you what it’s like to be wined and dined. Mr. Park senior taught me never to let a woman pay for a meal, and I won’t start now, especially not with you.” He stood up and came to stand in front of you, holding his hands out as if he knew you could potentially wobble from the alcohol flowing through your system. “Let someone take care of you for once, yeah? Let me take care of you.”

You stared up at him, surprised at his words. It had been a long time since you’d heard anything like that. It had been a long time since you had let anyone come close to caring for you, determined that you would do it for yourself. Jimin was truly worming his way under your skin and you didn’t like it. You closed your eyes at the thought of Jimin really being there for you and it shook you to your core. Letting out a shaky breath, you placed your hands gently in his as he helped you to your feet, accepting his offer. On one condition.

“Only for tonight,” you whispered into his chest, not daring to look up into his deep brown eyes, but he forced you to as he dragged his lips tenderly against the back of your knuckles.

“Okay,” he agreed. His eyes never left yours and you started to squirm under his intense gaze. He pulled you into his side, tucking you under his arm. “Come on, I want to show you something,” he whispered into your hair as if the words were a secret only meant for the two of you. A shiver ran down your spine as his lips brushed against your temple though you were hotter than before from the alcohol in the humid night.

Jimin took you down the streets of Tsim Sha Tsui, pressing you close to him as you walked along leisurely. Little street vendors lined the sidewalk selling sweet treats that made you wish you hadn’t eaten as much so you could try one. You inhaled the scent and tried to commit the smell to memory, wanting to always remember how untroubled you felt though so many things had gone wrong, wanting to really remember how many things had gone.

“We’re here,” Jimin said excitedly and removed his arm from around your shoulder, settling for just holding your hand. You immediately missed the warmth of being against his side.

Here was a hole-in-the-wall restaurant and lounge called Switch!. Its outer brick walls contrasted with the smooth window panes of the establishments next to it. A heavy wooden door rattled as the thumping bass echoed off it. There were a few stragglers standing outside smoking cigarettes as they laughed and joked with one another. Jimin turned to you and grinned, excitement etched across his features.

“Jimin,” you said with uncertainty. “It’s getting kind of late,” you trailed off.

“It’s only a little after ten, Y/N. Come on. This place is really cool,” he insisted. You chewed your lip, not sure whether you could make it a minute longer. Between the alcohol in your bloodstream and the cigarette smoke starting to swirl in your lungs, you were feeling a little out of your element. “Please, Shutterfly,” he pouted. “I promise to have you back home by midnight and before your carriage turns back into a pumpkin.” You rolled your eyes but remembered Michael’s words about enjoying the moment.

“Fine,” you huffed and pulled open the hefty door. Jimin followed closely after.

Switch! resembled your favorite grunge dive bar. It was extremely dark, the only source of lighting being a few strips of LED lights lining the floor and ceilings, and some weak yellow light bulbs. The bar itself was long and made with beautiful redwood that somehow managed to shine in the dim lighting. An extensive alcohol collection sat on the numerous shelves behind the bar. Next to it was a corkboard that was nearly filled with little polaroid pictures of previous patrons. A live band was the source of the thumping bass you had heard outside and you let it wash over me, vibrating the very core of your bones. It seemed like Jimin had a knack for choosing great places.

The two of you headed over to sit in one of the small booths, a waiter appearing immediately to take your order. Jimin asked for two sake bombs to start you off, something about keeping the trend of the night, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the rickety wooden table. You watched him start to lose himself in the music as he kept time with the beat, his head swaying slowly. His posture exaggerated the broad expanse of his back and you stewed silently behind him, almost cursing his parents for creating a man as attractive as this. You crossed your legs at the knee.

Your waiter returned with your drinks and Jimin yelled a thank you over the loud music. Internally, you were grateful that it was too loud for you to continue your conversation as you were sure Jimin would continue his fervent flirting and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. Not after accepting his offer of letting him take care of you for the night. You took a large sip of the alcoholic mixture. Jimin leaned back and turned his head to you, his hand resting on your bare thigh.

“Do you like it? Are you having fun?” he asked loudly. You winced as his voice pierced through your eardrum.

“Yeah! This is cool. The band is really good!” you yelled back and he grinned, his smile a little lopsided no doubt from the alcohol. His eyes continued to sparkle as he stared down at you. With his hand on your thigh and his face seeming to move closer, all the air felt like it was sucked out of the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as his eyes drifted down to your lips -

“Excuse me?!” Your head snapped around to the individual yelling at you just as Jimin had closed the distance between you, his lips brushing the corner of yours. You could feel his lips stretch into a smile against your cheek as his nose pressed into your skin. You were quite positive he could feel the burn radiating off your cheeks. “Would you guys like to take a picture for our polaroid wall?” the man yelled again. In his hands was a teal polaroid camera.

“Is it free?” you yelled and tried to create some distance between you and Jimin. The photographer laughed and nodded his head.

“Can we get a copy of them to keep?” Jimin asked.

“Sure! I can take a few extra for you guys,” he replied with a shrug. “You guys ready?” Jimin nodded and slipped his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your hip with the other still resting on your knee. He smushed your faces together as the first picture was taken. The photographer took an additional three more after determining your smile wasn’t wide enough in the first one.

“I’ll leave these with you to develop. When you choose the one you guys want us to hang up, just drop it off at the bar. Thanks again!” He disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

“I’m going to go use the bathroom!” You didn’t wait for Jimin to respond as you eased your way out of the booth and scurried off.

Locking yourself into the single-stall restroom, you tried to catch your breath. You and Jimin had nearly kissed. It wasn’t something you’d dreamed about in an alcohol-induced haze. He had really leaned in like he wanted to kiss you. You pressed your hands to your face to stop the smile from bursting across your cheeks. You covered your face with your hands as you recognized the familiar tick in your chest. A crush. You giggled to yourself as you pushed your hands through your hair. You had a fucking crush on Park Jimin and you were a teensy bit okay with it. A knock at the door burst your bubble of revelation and you quickly washed your hands, apologizing to the other woman as you slipped by her.

“So I think we should give this one to them,” Jimin suggested, pushing the four photos over to you as you sat beside him again. He was pointing to the second one of you where we were both grinning like mad men as he had pressed his face against your own. “The other ones are too cute.”

He was right. The third was Jimin kissing your cheek and you covering your mouth in shock at his actions. The final one was him smiling into your cheek, caressing the other side as he pulled you against him and you smiled with your eyes closed and rested your hand against his arm. This one was your favorite.

“Yeah, you’re right. These came out a lot better than I thought they would,” you said, the bar much quieter as another band got prepared for their set.

“Why wouldn’t they turn out great?” he asked confused.

“You know, the lighting and stuff. Plus my hair and we’ve been drinking so I know my face is all -”

“Stop. You look amazing. Look!” Jimin held the pictures up for you though you were already looking at them; it seemed he was a little more drunk than you were. “Absolutely beautiful,” he added. You smiled softly at him as he placed your favorites into his wallet. “Okay, I’m going to go give them this one. Do you want another drink?” You shook my head no, still nursing your first, and watched him meander his way through the crowd gathered to hear the band. They started up a moment later, a smooth rhythm of R’n’B playing out through the speakers. The beat was infectious and you closed your eyes, dancing in your seat. It felt good to not be concerned with anything, though work still plagued the back of your mind.

“I didn’t know you could dance!” Jimin yelled over the music. You hadn’t noticed his return and his voice startled you.

“I don’t dance!” You said with a laugh.

“But you just were!”

“I really wouldn’t call that dancing, Jimin.”

“Well, show me what is then.” He held his hand out to you. More people had started to dance as well, the change in the atmosphere quite apparent. “Don’t you want to see what dance moves we have stored in the Park family?” You laughed and nearly fell out of the booth trying to imagine Mr. Park senior getting down at the family parties. You were quite intrigued.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand after taking another generous mouthful of beer and led him onto the makeshift dance floor. Jimin spun you around to face him and guided your hands around his neck while his hands rested on your lower back, the two of you swaying in time to the song. It was gentle and sweet and you hid your face in his chest as he spun you around. Jimin looked happy as you danced hand in hand, laughing when you stumbled from being inebriated. You hoped that his phone call was as far back in his mind as you physically were from the United States.

You danced for God knows how long until your feet started to hurt and the two of you were almost wet with sweat, lost in the music and the soft touches of one another. Jimin made good on his promise and had you back at the hostel before midnight. If anyone had been downstairs, you would have looked like any lovesick teenagers sneaking home in the dead of night. You were grateful that William and Sonia hadn’t decided to wait up for you as you giggled your way to your room, you hushing Jimin as he unlocked your door.

“Thank you for taking me there, Jimin. I had a really good time tonight,” you said as you kicked off your sneakers and grabbed your sleep shirt and toothbrush.

“It was no trouble at all. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. I had a really good time too,” he replied as he tugged his shirt over his head. Your eyes widened as you took in his smooth torso, the sprinkle of hair starting at his belly button and disappearing into his shorts that he was currently removing -

“Okay! I’m gonna go wait outside while you change! Let me know when you’re done,” you squeaked out and winced at the force at which you closed the door. You could hear Jimin chuckle from the other side. It was becoming quite tiring being flustered around him.

After receiving the all-clear from Jimin to re-enter, you slipped into the bathroom to change and brush your teeth. It was stupid at how happy you were to see your toothbrushes sitting next to each other in the little holder. Tugging the shirt down as far as it would go over your hips, you poked your head around the door to see Jimin already under the covers, one hand holding his book and the other tucked behind his head. So much for getting into bed without being seen. You folded your shorts and shirt, placing them on top of your backpack as you mentally prepared to face Jimin.

“I hope you don’t mind me not taking a shower. I didn’t think it was a good idea with the amount that I had to drink and I definitely don’t think you’re strong enough to pull me out of the shower if I fell,” he said, still not looking at you.

“Hey! I could probably manage!” you yelled, slightly offended that he thought you were weak.

“A naked me? Y/N, you can barely look at me with clothes on,” he snorted and set his book down on the nightstand and looked at you. You blushed as your eyes fell on the gold chain around his neck; he had decided not to wear a shirt to bed tonight. You watched him take in your figure, his eyes roaming over on your bare thighs for a few seconds longer than necessary. “But, if you think you can, I can go -” he started pulling the covers back but you cut him off.

“Nope!” you yelled and held your arms out as if you could magically force him not to move. “It’s fine, really. We can just go to sleep. Wouldn’t want you to get concussed or anything before our flight,” you mumbled. Double-checking the door was locked, you flicked off the light. You stubbed your toe just as you were about to climb in and Jimin laughed.

“Not as fun when it happens to you, right?” You punched his shoulder as you settled under the covers facing away from him, pretending to be mad. “Ah Y/N, come on.” Jimin shifted so he was cuddled up behind you, his hand thrown over your waist. “You’re not really mad at me, are you Shutterfly?” He pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your neck and you shivered. You could feel his grin against your skin again. Truly the bane of your existence.

“No, I’m not mad at you,” you mumbled.

“Good,” he replied and gave you a squeeze. “Thank you for telling me part of your story, for trusting me with that. Thank you for also letting me take care of you tonight. I hope you let me do it again,” he said as he pulled you closer against him and you sighed.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He punctuated his sentence with a kiss against your cheek, his lips lingering once again.

“Goodnight, Jimin,” you whispered back as he buried his face into your shoulder.

That night, you dreamed of museums, Mingsu’s, and live music.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

ⓒ joon-ipersgirl, 2020

[realfuurikuuri]

Chapters: 17/? Fandom: Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Summary: MissingArm!AU: When escaping the cave, it wasn't his tail that got crushed. In exchange for his innocence, he gained a sordid past. The Pure Heart Valley seemed like a good place to escape. To start a new life with a new family to forge a new identity. However, when the past rears its ugly head Mao Mao's forced to step up or be put down.

direct link to chapter 17 on Ao3: 

Chapter Below the Cut

“Jǐngti,” Badgerclops shouted as he wandered through the forest with Adorabat resting on his head.

“Jǐngtì,” shouted Adorabat soon after.

Badgerclops suppressed a sigh, wondering how much longer this would take. He’s been walking through the forest that surrounds the hills since early this morning. His fur was covered in a thin veneer of sweat, and his knees were starting to hurt. Would Jǐngtì even come out if he heard them? Was he even in the forest? He could be in the junkyard, in the town something or who knows how many other places. There was an entire kingdom to sift through! This hasn’t been a waste of time from the start, has it?

Badgerclops kicked a rock in the mud with the realization that this was all pointless. But what else could he do? Not looking for a child who had run away in the night? Badgerclops picked up the pebble he kicked, reeled back his arm, and threw it into the procession of trees. He half expected to hear Jǐngtì say “ow” as the rock hit on the head, but he heard nothing but the vast emptiness of the forest.

There weren't any fortuitous accidents to be had here. Just misery.

“What are you doing,” Adorabat asked.

Oh damn. He forgot she was there.  

“It's nothing,” he said.

Acrobat didn’t seem convinced. She settled back down on Badgerclops head with a noncommittal grunt. Badgerclops kept walking, and Adorbat kept making sounds. Usually grunts or maybe a whispered word. Was she thinking? First time he’s seen her try so hard at it. He wouldn’t wish her any luck though. There’s no reason a child should be trying to put together such a macabre puzzle. She probably wouldn’t be able to anyway. She was asleep for most of last night, so her puzzle was missing a few pieces. Even if she had all the pieces there wouldn’t be any way a child’s mind could get the full grasp of what was going on, right? “What’s that mean?”

Badgerclops looked up at Adorabat with an eyebrow raised.

“You said something about a child’s puzzle?”

It appeared that he was just as lost in thought as Adorabat. Badgerclops wiped the sweat from his brow. This Sisyphean task had gone on too long. Although, Badgerclops wasn’t sure he needed to. Jǐngtì had his father’s blood coursing through his veins; he was bound to show up with another problem on his heels. It was time for Sisyphus to get a break and go back to HQ. Mao Mao would probably still be curled up on the couch, but he could never be too sure about that man.

Badgerclops looked around. There was grass at his feet and a crowd of trees in every direction. He was lost as fuck. It had to be this damn forest. And all this damn walking! Exercise has never done him well. What to do? Badgerclops tapped his finger until he had a lightbulb that promptly went out. He has a GPs system in the works but he never actually got around to setting it up. Damn you procrastination. Time to the bust out old reliable: climbing to a high place and hoping for the best!

What high place, was now the question. Badgerclops looked up at the pine trees that pierced the sky. He could climb those… but that was exercise and got a hard pass. What other pieces of geography could he take advantage of?  Hmm, there were a series of hills that rose above the canopy, HQ was built on one, so maybe he’d be able to see it from one of those. He just needed to find one.

“Hey, Adorabat. Fly up and tell me if you see any hills, okay.”

“Okay!”

Badgerclops watched her fly above the treetops into the sky when it hit him. “Did I forget she could fly?”

“Hey, Badgerclops! I see something… shiny .”

Badgerclops could see Adorabat’s pupils dilate and chomp her teeth as base instincts take over. She began to fly off at frightful speeds.

Badgerclops threw his head back and let out a loud groan. “It always exercises with you people,” he told no one in particular as he ran after her.

He followed her to where the ground slanted, forcing Badgerclops to trudge up slowly with his knees. The slope went higher and higher until he broke past the tops of the conifers to the top of the ridge. An endless green sea stretched into the horizon. He could see the town in the East, HQ to the north, and Adorabat off to the side.

He picked up the weird stick she was chewing on and pried Adorbat off like a leech. “We have got to get you a teething toy,” he said.

Badgerclops was about to throw the weird stick away when he realized it wasn't a stick. It was already marked with teeth marks, red with a golden tip, and hollow. This wasn’t a stick. It was Mao Mao’s sheath. Why was it out here? Was this where Mao Mao was last night?

What was that cat bastard doing?

* * *

Mao Mao ignored his grumbling stomach. He wasn’t in any mood to eat. He'd rather stay here, curled up on the couch, until the end of time. It was a good place. Soft. Warm. It was genuinely a good place, yet, why did he feel so miserable? His head was filled with fog, his body ached and every time he convinced himself to get up he suddenly felt everything escape him. His strength fled, his courage escaped, and will to keep going receded further back than it already had. He didn’t have Tanya. He didn't have Badgerclops. He didn’t have his son. He didn’t even have self-respect. How horrifying to know he could lose what little he had left. At least he still had the couch.

Mao Mao was getting very comfortable with it too when there was a knock at the door. First, he thought it was Badgerclops, but he has a key. And if he forgot it he’d just spend a second to make one. It couldn’t be Adorabat. She’d sooner crash through the window than knock.

“Hello? Is this the police,” said the voice. On any other day, Mao Mao might’ve answered the door, but right now he just rolled over.

Mao Mao covered his ear best he could with one arm.

“Excuse me? Is anyone there?”

Mao Mao snuggled himself deeper into the cushions.

“Please. My daughter is missing.”

Mao Mao finally pried himself away from the cushions. Not out of concern or sympathy, he just couldn’t stand hearing this stranger bang against his door or his stupid, whiny, nasaly voice. His legs felt heavy from lack of use, or maybe that was hunger. He couldn’t tell. The floor seemed uneven making him stumble as he approached the door. He tripped, falling to his knees. He would’ve hit his face if he hadn’t stabbed Geraldine into the floorboards. Badgerclops wasn’t going to like that.

Even then, he was forced to lean against it to catch his breath.

“Hello,” said the other side.

God! This dude’s voice made him want to tear his ears off. Mao Mao threw open the door, heaving for breath, leaning against the side of it to stand. He only says the usual expanse. The hill HQ rests on, the forest beneath the hills, and the town in the distance. Was he hearing voices? Sure, he wasn’t exactly taking care of himself, but he didn’t think he reached that point yet.

“Are you the sheriff?”

Mao Mao pointed his gaze down in the direction of the voice. He almost asked Adorabat what the hell she was doing when he squinted and took a closer look. It wasn’t Adorabat. Looked a lot like her though. A bat barely over a foot tall with a strange blue hue. A sweetiepie definitely, but one he’s never seen before. How strange.

“Who are you, no, what are you here for,” Mao Mao asked.

“My name is Eugene. I’m looking for my daughter-” Mao Mao tuned out after that. No need listening to him when he’s speaking a mile a minute. Eugene, huh. Weird name for a Sweetipie. He thought his name would be something weird like Gumball, or Flapjack, or even Parker. No, not Parker. That’d be too weird. Does he have a surname? Is it as weird as his first name? Mao Mao was going to ask when he realized Eugene was still talking.

“-can you help me?”

“No,” he said flatly.

Eugene deflated with a pathetic sigh of defeat until Mao Mao spoke up again”-but Badgerclops, might.”

“Where is Badgerclops,” Eugene stammered.

“Out.”

“Oh...Do you know when he’ll be back?”  

“No. Guess you gotta wait.”

Mao Mao spun on his heels ready to crawl back on the couch and lie there for eternity, when he noticed the tiny little man walking past him. Strange, he didn’t remember inviting him in. The tiny little bastard sat down on the loveseat with the infuriating awkwardness of patience.

Should he kick him? Probably?

Will he ignore Eugene and just crawl back onto the couch? Definitely.

And crawl onto the couch he did. He climbed onto the couch, wrapping himself in his cape. He kicked Eugene to the side , earning a nasally whine from the fool, to create space and once he had it he curled up and went back to his misery. This misery was different from the benign wasting away he was doing before. It was something more embarrassing. He was being watched. It made him want to hide under the covers and be mistaken for a rock. Maybe if he was mistaken enough, he’d actually become one.

“What's your name,” asked Eugene.

Of course, this fool wanted to talk. Mao Mao released a heavy sigh,” Mao Mao.”

“That’s a weird name.”

Yesterday, Mao Mao probably would’ve kicked him in the face. Now, he didn’t have enough pride to do that. He should’ve expected that’d be a name in a place like this.

“So, what do you do here?”

Mao Mao’s first instinct was to say sheriff, but that wasn’t really accurate anymore. “I make things worse,” he said.

Eugene nodded and shifted unfortunately before settling into a comfortable silence. Unfortunately, it didn’t last too long.

“You wouldn't have happened to see my daughter, would you?”

Mao Mao let out a non-committal grunt.

“She’s about a foot tall, blue, takes after her father that way, and cute as a button, but if I’m being totally honest, she scares me.”

Mao Mao stiffened. He knew a certain child that he’d describe the exact same way… He sat up, turning to face Eugene. “Your daughter wouldn’t happen to also be kinda naive, have a taste for adventure, and be extremely loud?”

“Yeah, she’s exactly like that.”

Mao Mao sat there. Mouth hanging wide open as the horrible reality dawned on him. He thought Adorabat was an orphan or something. He thought she was a ward of the state. An orphan! This was like accidentally adopting someone’s pet except a thousand times worse! Eugene was Adorabat’s dad. Mao Mao hyperventilated as he thought. How would he explain this? Summer camp? No, summer’s coming to an end. An internship? No, she’s eight! They’d have to give her back. He couldn’t just keep the child here. It's not like he was fit to be a parent.

Mao Mao stopped thinking, shocked by his own realization.

He wasn’t fit to be a hero, let alone someone else’s caregiver. He couldn't even be a parent to his own child, god forbid anyone else’s. He was a mistake. A failure. He ruined everything he got his hands on. Like a lumbering beast that just  How long would it be until he broke her too? Mao Mao took a deep breath. He wasn’t happy with what he had to do, but he was prepared to do what he must.

“Are you okay,” Eugene asked.

He wished people would just stop asking him that.

Both of them looked up when they heard something thump outside.

“Ow, you’ve got to be careful with that.”

That was Badgerclops. Was he and Adorabat back already? Oh geez, he hadn’t even had time to think what to say.

And he would get no time. Badgerclops strolled in like nothing was wrong, but when Adorabat caught sight of Eugene it looked like she ate something sour.

Immediately, Eugene rushed to his child

“I am so glad you’re safe,” Eugene said,” let’s go home.”

“What? No. Let me go,” Adorabat said, pushing herself away.

Badgerclops interviewed. Prying the two of them apart with ease. “What on earth is going on here,” Badgerclops asked.

“Wha- what’s going on here? Have you two ruffians kidnapped my daughter?”

“Wait- that’s not--”

“That’s it. I’m calling the authorities.”

Eugene pulled out his phone and dialed 911 only for the cell in Mao Mao’s pocket to go off.

“Alright, before we call the cops on the cops, I need to know what the hells going on.”

“That’s… Adorabat’s dad,” Mao Mao told him.

“I thought she was my conscious.”

Weird thing to say, but Mao Mao set it aside for now. However, Eugene did not. “You’re conscious?” Eugene wriggled free with his daughter in tow. “That’s it. We’re leaving these crazies.” He said, carrying while Adorabat kicked and screamed. Eventually, Adorabat won. Shaking free from his grasp and continuing her tantrum with renewed vitriol and vigor.

This wasn’t going well at all. He somehow accidentally kidnapped a kid, and he had just about called the cops on them. He’d be in jail if the justice system wasn’t so wack. Hell, he had half the mind to arrest himself. Why’d this have to happen? Why’d he ever get up from the couch to answer the door? He knew he should've stayed like that forever.

Badgerclops turned him around without warning. A grim expression on his face. “What are we going to do?”

What? Why are you asking him? You’re the one who made good decisions. He should be asking you!. Mao Mao began to hyperventilate. Sheer terror had him in its grasp and it was beginning to squeeze his throat. What to do? What to do? What could he do? He’s the one who never did anything right. Words escaped him, actions failed him. It's not like he could ignore Eugene and keep his kid.  What could he do?

He could only do what he thought was right.

Mao Mao got up and marched towards Adorabat and Eugene. “What- what are you doing?” The words passed right over Mao Mao’s ears. He pushed Adorabat and her father right out the door and slammed it shut behind him, locking the locks, bolting the bolts, and putting his back against it. He could hear Adorabat scream and shout from the other side. It gradually grew quieter and quieter as her father pulled her away.

So that was that. The problem had been fixed. He’d done the right thing. So why did Mao Mao feel so… awful? He fell down to his knees and wrapped himself in his cape. Did the world really hate him that much? He’d give up doing anything, and the world literally brought a problem to his doorstep. He didn’t even do anything? Why did he deserve this?

“Are you okay over there,” Badgerclops asked?

Would people stop asking that! He felt Badgerclops pick him up and lay him back down on the couch where Mao Mao promptly curled back up. Badgerclops stroked his ears, soothing Mao Mao like it would help anything.

[minijenn]

Universe Falls turns 5 years old this week

I was 19 when I started it and still in college, in the throes of depression bc I hated college and wanted out even during the start of my sophomore year. I was homesick and had only a handful of friends bc I was shy as fuck back then and terrified of rejection (and had gone from a small pond back in high school where I was fairly popular to being an absolute nobody in college). I really, really fucking hated it during my freshman year and in particular and begged my dad to let me come home and go to college there instead of thousands of miles away. But for better or worse he made me stick it out even though I was absolutely miserable. But if there was anything that got me through that horrible freshman year it was my discovery of two shows: 

Steven Universe and Gravity Falls

I binged SU first, having seen it when it first aired back in 2013 but then got back on the bandwagon for it around the time its first season ended, which was when I became a devout fan. GF was something I discovered through tumblr, I watched it not long after Not What He Seems premiered and fell in love hard and fast. I would spend hours watching and rewatching these episodes, reading fics and fan theories, speculating on what was going to happen next. Never before in my life had I ever discovered two shows that brought be so much joy and comfort until these two came into my life. I loved these characters, felt like they were the friends I knew I was lacking even though they were fictional. But they felt real, they felt alive to me. 

So fast forward to August/September 2015. I had just started my sophomore year and so far wasn’t having any better of a time than I had when I was a freshman. I still clung onto GF and SU as new, very exciting episodes were airing for both (that was the month we got the Last Mabelcorn and Catch and Release, for reference’s sake). And then, one night, while I was falling asleep in my cramp dorm room I shared with a roommate I couldn’t stand, the thought occurred to me: 

What if you brought these two things you loved so much... together?

It was a random thought, almost insignificant, but in the days that followed, I just couldn’t shake it. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to see these characters interact, the more I wanted to see their plots intertwine, the more I knew I was the one who had to write this since GF and SU crossovers were pretty scarce back then (unlike they are now in the new wave of SUF and GF crossovers that I don’t much care for). 

I was in the midst of a writing funk at the time, my ongoing Zelda fics all on hitaus while I began a new year at college. I had more or less lost passion for most of them, with the majority of them except my HW fic receiving low numbers of reviews and feedback (back then I didn’t really know how to promote my fics like I do now). Even so, I started planning on this new project, but not without a bit of hesitation since I’d never really worked with GF or SU characters before. But I began plotting out a chapter list (the original UF chapter list has been lost to the ages, I wrote it in an old homework planner during class), and I had decided that I wanted to try my hand at making this thing a comic. A hand drawn comic. And given that my drawing abilities were... subpar at best, yeaaaaah it wasn’t the best idea....

Still, I got through two parts of UF’s “first chapter” and posted them on here (they’re still up somewhere if you wanna go back and cringe hardcore at my bad old art). Still, it had taken me a loooooong ass time to draw them and even more crazy was the fact that my laptop had crashed during that span of time, leaving me with only my shitty iPad to work with. Frustrated, I decided to forego the stupid comic altogether and write the damn thing as a fanfic, knowing I could get chapters out way faster than I ever would have by drawing it. 

So I wrote the prologue and posted it on September 29, 2015. And let’s just say right off the bat people were excited. I’d never seen so many reviews on the first chapter of one of my fics before and those numbers only started to go up the more I posted. I was jazzed up to work on this fic, pushed on by this encouragement as I decided to build my relatively reblogging-heavy blog up around it. Toward the end of the year, when I was nearing the end of arc 1, I decided to get myself a drawing tablet and download Sai so I could begin drawing my own art for the fic, leading to me first passes of character designs and UF’s old fugly cover lol

Still, I kept going with it into 2016, getting through both arcs 2 and 3 as the fic only began to grow more and more with more engagement from its fans. AUs were made, fanfics and fanarts of my fic were created, it was a glorious time to be alive, even going into 2017, 2018, 2019, and now. And all the while I kept at it, coming up with sequel plans, taking breaks every now and then to refresh and recoup, and to give the new pet project I started in 2019 (Keys to the Kingdom) some time to shine. But I’ve still never truly lost passion for UF. It’s something I tend to see through to completion, no matter how long it takes.

Fast forward again and now its 2020. I’m 24 years old and still going strong with it, having just completed RMD, an arc ender that I always hoped would be my magnum opus for this fic (and I’m so incredibly proud of how it turned out). Both GF and SU have ended, their stories both told and their endings inspiring me in so many different ways. And while those stories are over, I still strive to keep these characters, or perhaps, my own unique takes on them, living on to tell new stories, to have new adventures right alongside the canon ones. To keep their flames going in the same spirit and hopefully try to follow, even in some small way, in the footsteps of Rebecca Sugar and Alex Hirsch, two of my absolute heroes in the animation world. 

So UF turns 5 this week. It’s half a decade old and it’s nearing its 100th chapter. Its passed the 1 million word mark quite some time ago and I’m sure it’ll pass 2 million before its all said and done. It’s accumulated thousands of reviews, hundreds of followers/favorites, plenty of incredible fan interactions across the board. It’s 9th arc is about to begin, leading the way into 2 more before its all said and done. And from there it’ll only grow when I eventually write UF2 and UFF sometime way down the line. All things I could have never imagined doing as a lonely college sophomore back in 2015 when I was just starting this fun little experiment off. But as for where we are with it no, well, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

So here we are in the future. And, well, for UF at least, I’d say it’s pretty bright.