#to see him when he returned and so easily forgot about him when he sacrificed himself

[heliosunny]

Helloooo!!! Sorry to bother, but Could we get a part two of your Yandere!Mydei x Neko! Reader? Its really given me interest and I think it’d be cool, them marrying and all and how would reader react to it? How would it go? Would reader end up enjoying the marriage or suffer in it?

Yandere!Mydei x Neko!Reader [2]

Visit [part 1]

Days turned into weeks, then months, life at Mydei’s estate had become… normal. At least, as normal as it could be when you lived under the same roof as a man who seemed hellbent on making your life difficult—in the most infuriating ways possible.

The maids now treating you with respect (if not a little wariness, given your close relationship with Mydei). You had found small ways to be useful, helping organize documents, assisting in the gardens, and occasionally running small errands for Mydei’s work.

You had gotten used to everything.

Except him.

Because somehow, no matter how much time passed, Mydei always found new ways to tease you. And you never saw it coming.

One morning, you were walking through the hall when

“My, my. Has anyone told you how adorable you look when you’re lost in thought?”

You flinched, ears twitching violently as you whirled around. Mydei was leaning against the wall, watching you with that damn smirk of his.

“You—” You exhaled sharply. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?!”

“I wasn’t sneaking” he said. “You were just too distracted to notice.”

“What do you want?”

He stepped closer, towering over you. “Nothing much. Just enjoying the view.”

“Stop saying things like that!”

“Oh?” His smirk widened. “Would you prefer if I whispered it instead?”

You bolted. You can hear his laughter followed you down the hall.

Another time, you were in the library, trying to reach a book from a high shelf. Just as you were about to grab it, a hand easily plucked it away. You huffed, turning—only to see Mydei flipping through the pages, his expression casual.

“…Mydei.”

“Yes, pet?”

You held out your hand. “Give it back.”

He hummed, tapping his chin. “I don’t know… What will you give me in return?”

“It’s my book!”

“And I’m simply holding it,” he mused. “Now, if you really want it back, perhaps a little please, my dear lord might do the trick?”

You lunged for it.

He lifted it higher.

You jumped.

He stepped back.

This continued for a full minute before you finally grabbed onto his arm, using your weight to drag him down.

Both of you tumbled onto the couch, you landing half on top of him.

You stiffened as Mydei’s arms settled around your waist, his breath warm against your ear.

“Well, this is quite bold of you, pet” he murmured. “If you wanted to be in my arms, all you had to do was ask.”

You flew off him.

The book?

You completely forgot about it.

His victorious chuckle haunted you for the rest of the day.

No matter how much time passed, no matter how comfortable you became in his estate—you would never get used to him.

----

You had woken up expecting another normal day.

Instead, you found yourself curled up in the blankets, significantly smaller than usual.

Your ears twitched. Your tail—wait, your tail?!

You looked down, and instead of hands, you had small, soft paws.

You had… transformed. It was rare—so rare that you barely even remembered the last time it happened. But maybe, just maybe, it was a side effect from when you had sacrificed one of your lives to save Mydei.

Panic flickered in your chest.

You had to find a way to change back before Mydei saw you like this.

The bedroom door opened.

“Pet—” Mydei’s voice started casually before he stopped, scanning the empty bed.

A deep frown tugged at his lips. “Where did you run off to this time?”

Your fur bristled. He was already assuming the worst.

…Well.

Maybe this was an opportunity.

He doesn’t know it’s me.

If he thought you had simply gone out, then you had time to figure things out. A little harmless wandering wouldn’t hurt, right? And so, you took full advantage of your new form, slipping out of the room undetected.

For the first time in forever, you explored the estate in your small, feline form.

You darted between the hallways, slipping past the maids’ feet, leaping onto high bookshelves with ease. You even snuck into the kitchen and stole a snack—not that anyone could blame a harmless little cat, of course.

But the best part?

Watching Mydei suffer.

He waited in the main hall, arms crossed, golden eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“Still not back...” he muttered, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair.

The longer you stayed hidden, the more irritated he became.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair before grumbling, “When they come back, I swear I’ll keep them locked in my room for a week.”

Maybe you should stay like this a little longer.

You continued your little adventure, enjoying the rare freedom that came with being small and swift. The estate was huge, and in this form, it felt even bigger. You weaved through the garden, basked in the sunlight by the windowsill, and even had a little fun swatting at the occasional falling leaf.

It wasn’t often you got to just… relax without Mydei teasing you every five minutes.

Speaking of him, you found him near the entrance of the estate, still looking for you.

You perched on a high wall, ears twitching as you observed him. He looked mildly annoyed.

“They’re still not back” he murmured to himself, fingers running through his hair. “Where in the world did you run off to, pet...”

You watched, amused. If only you could tell him.

That’s when his gaze flicked up and locked directly onto you.

“A cat?” Mydei tilted his head, his irritation fading into mild interest.

Your tail flicked.

He didn’t recognize you.

Perfect.

You were about to hop away when suddenly—

“Come here” Mydei said, his voice taking on that damn smooth, commanding tone.

Your body reacted before your brain did.

Before you knew it, you had leapt down.

Right into his arms.

…What?

You blinked, startled at yourself.

“Well, well. Aren’t you obedient?”

You screamed internally.

Why did you listen?! It had to be instinct—some part of you still used to following his commands.

Noticing your frozen state, Mydei chuckled, gently scratching behind your ears. “You’re quite the cute little thing, aren’t you?”

He brought you inside, casually petting your fur as he read through paperwork.

“You’re quite the well-behaved cat” he mused, fingers lightly scratching under your chin. “Unlike a certain someone I know.”

You flicked your tail against his hand in protest.

At dinner, he set a small dish of food beside him.

“For my little guest” he said.

You glared at him but ate anyway.

At some point, he held you up, his eyes analyzing you closely.

“…Why do I feel like you remind me of someone?”

Maybe it was time to run.

The moment you finished eating, you bolted.

Mydei barely had time to react before you dashed out of the room, paws barely making a sound as you disappeared into the halls.

For a second, he just sat there, blinking at the now-empty space beside him.

“Running away already?”

His amusement didn’t stop him from standing up, golden eyes glinting as he chased after you.

You weaved through the garden, slipping through bushes and around hedges, your small form making it easy to avoid detection.

Or so you thought.

Because when you finally made it to a tall tree at the edge of the estate and climbed up to safety, a shadow loomed below.

“There you are.”

You looked down.

Mydei stood at the base of the tree, arms crossed, an expression of clear amusement on his face.

“You really thought you could escape me?”

Then, to your absolute horror, Mydei climbed up after you.

Your instincts screamed at you to move, to get higher, to escape.

So when Mydei finally reached up to grab you, you lashed out.

A startled scratch landed on the back of his hand.

You froze, realizing what you had just done.

He looked at his hand, a small scratch marking his skin.

Your ears flattened, guilt washing over you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward and licked the wound.

Mydei went completely still.

“That’s not how you treat a wound” he said, though his voice was more amused than scolding. “Honestly, are you a cat or a troublemaker?”

You huffed, lightly swishing your tail.

With an exasperated shake of his head, he reached out—this time, more carefully—and scooped you into his arms.

“You’re coming inside. No more running off.”

Even as he carried you back, even as he got someone to properly treat his hand, even as he kept you close for the rest of the evening—

You had a feeling he was never going to let you live this down.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. You shifted slightly, feeling warmth pressed against you—something solid, something comforting.

Your ears twitched.

Wait.

Your ears?

Your tail?

Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly looked down at yourself.

Hands. Fingers. A normal-sized body.

You were back to normal.

Which meant—

A slow, sinking realization hit you as you felt the steady rise and fall of someone else’s breathing right beside you.

You turned your head—

And came face to face with Mydei.

His arm was draped around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

You were in his bed.

What. The. Hell. How did this happen?!

You wracked your brain, trying to recall the night before—but all you remembered was him carrying you back inside. At some point, you must have fallen asleep, still in your small form.

Which meant—he had probably taken you to his bed to keep an eye on you.

But now that you were back to normal, you had to get out of here.

Slowly—very slowly—you tried to move.

The moment you even shifted, Mydei’s arm tightened around you.

“Mm… Trying to escape again, pet?”

“I—I wasn’t—”

“Then why are you trembling?”

You were trembling. Your body was practically vibrating with embarrassment. This was not good for your heart.

“I—um—”

Before you could say anything else, he suddenly reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“…Back to normal, hm?” His voice was softer now, “Shame. I rather liked carrying you around.”

Nope. You were leaving.

You quickly tried to roll away—only for his grip to pull you back.

“Ah, ah. Not so fast.”

You squeaked. He chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of your flustered state.

With a sigh of mock disappointment, he finally loosened his hold. “Fine. I suppose I can let you go… for now.”

You didn’t waste another second, bolting from the bed.

You had spent the entire day hiding.

The embarrassment from that morning still burned in your mind, and there was absolutely no way you were going to let Mydei see you again so soon.

Unfortunately, your stomach had other plans.

By the time evening rolled around, hunger had fully betrayed you.

Your ears flattened as you peeked out from your hiding spot, making sure the path was clear before sneaking towards the kitchen. If you were quick, you could grab something to eat and disappear again.

You didn't believe in your own eyes. Standing at the stove, sleeves casually rolled up, was Mydei himself. You nearly turned around immediately, but your stomach let out a small, betraying growl.

Mydei didn’t even turn around.

“I was wondering when you’d finally show up. Hiding all day must’ve been exhausting.”

You swallowed down your embarrassment and shuffled over, cautiously standing beside him.

“…You cook?”

He smirked, stirring the pan. “Occasionally.”

The warm scent of food filled the kitchen, and despite your shame, your tail gave the tiniest flick of anticipation.

Noticing this, Mydei chuckled.

“You must be starving.”

You refused to answer, but your stomach growled again, exposing you.

Without warning, he picked up a piece of the food with a fork and held it up to your lips.

“Here, eat.”

You hesitated.

He raised a brow. “What, suddenly shy?”

Your ears twitched in protest. He was doing this on purpose!

Still, hunger won in the end.

You leaned forward, taking a bite.

…It was good.

Really good.

Your tail swayed slightly before you could stop it.

Mydei noticed immediately.

“You like it?”

You quickly turned away, trying to hide your reaction. “It’s… decent.”

He chuckled, clearly seeing right through you.

But instead of teasing further, he simply fed you another bite.

And another.

Until you realized—

You hadn’t even picked up a plate.

You were just standing there, letting him feed you.

Just as you were finishing your meal, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your ears.

A man strolled into the kitchen, dressed in deep navy robes embroidered with intricate golden thread. His jewelry glimmered under the warm candlelight—rings, necklaces, even a few delicate chains woven into his sleeves.

Your ears perked up.

Shiny.

The man exuded a regal yet laid-back air, his dark brown hair tied back loosely as if he didn’t care much for appearances, despite the wealth he clearly carried.

“Mydei!” the man greeted smoothly, giving a short nod. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Mydei sighed. “That depends. If you’ve come to dump your problems on me again, I may have to reconsider allowing you in.”

The man laughed. “Oh, don’t be so cold. I bring interesting news.”

You barely paid attention to their conversation because you were too distracted by the gold. It wasn’t your fault! It just—sparkled.

You stood behind Mydei, eyes locked onto the shimmering rings as the man casually gestured while speaking. The way the candlelight bounced off the metal, the soft clink they made whenever he moved his hands—

Your tail flicked in fascination.

Mydei noticed. His golden eyes glanced over his shoulder at you, catching the way you were so entirely focused on his guest’s accessories.

And yet, you didn’t care.

You just kept staring.

A chuckle escaped his friend. “Well, aren’t they an interesting one?”

That was when you finally snapped out of it, realizing how obvious you had been.

Heat rushed to your face, and you quickly straightened up, clearing your throat as if that would erase the past minute.

The man smirked in amusement before offering a slight bow. “Elias Von Luthen. A pleasure to meet you.”

You hesitated for a moment before murmuring your own name in response.

He smiled, then added, “I must say, I don’t often see Mydei with company. You must be rather special.”

Your ears twitched, and Mydei merely sighed. “Don’t start.”

Elias ignored him, continuing, “Actually, I came here because I’ve been dealing with a rather elusive group. My companion has been helping me, but we could always use more sharp senses.”

He paused, glancing at you.

“If you’re interested, you could accompany me. It would be beneficial to have another of your kind along. You’d be well compensated, of course.”

You blinked. You weren’t entirely opposed to the idea. The thought of traveling, using your skills, and even learning from another hybrid was tempting.

But before you could even consider it, Mydei spoke first.

“They’re not going anywhere.”

Elias raised a brow. “Oh? I wasn’t aware you had them bound to you.”

“I don’t. But if you think I’d let my dear companion run off with you so easily…”

He leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking toward you.

“…Then you clearly don’t know me well enough.”

Elias finally stood, stretching his arms as he let out a satisfied sigh. “Well, this has been quite the pleasant visit, but I should be on my way. My friend is probably wondering if I got kidnapped.”

He turned to you with a smirk. “If you ever change your mind about my offer, you’re always welcome to find me. Though… judging by Mydei’s reaction, I doubt you’ll get far.”

Your ears twitched, and you glanced at Mydei, expecting a sharp remark or at least a smug retort.

But strangely… he said nothing.

He merely watched Elias leave with an unreadable expression before turning on his heel and walking off without a single word to you.

Weird.

Usually, he’d at least tease you about your staring or make a sarcastic remark about Elias’ offer. But this time? Nothing.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or suspicious.

Hours passed, and you didn’t see Mydei again.

At first, you assumed he was just busy. Maybe he had some business to attend to. Maybe he was just giving you space.

But when you asked the maids if they’d seen him, one of them hesitated before replying:

“His Grace? He left the estate for something. We’re not sure what, but he seemed… oddly pleased about it.”

…That definitely set off alarms in your head.

Because if Mydei was pleased about something, it always meant trouble for you.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the city’s underground market, Mydei was browsing through a selection of rare and enchanted artifacts.

He held up a small, shimmering vial, speaking smoothly to the vendor.

“This,” he mused, watching the liquid shift inside, “will definitely do the trick.”

Oh, he wasn’t letting you off that easily.

If you thought he’d forget how easily distracted you were by shiny things…

Well. You were about to sorely underestimate him.

That night, you were restless. Mydei still hadn’t returned, and the silence was starting to get suspicious. You knew he wasn’t the type to just disappear without reason—especially after Elias’ visit.

Something was definitely up. But no one knew where he went, and that was even worse. Just as you were about to give up and retreat to your room, the main doors finally creaked open.

Mydei strolled inside, his coat draped lazily over one shoulder. He looked too pleased.

You immediately took a cautious step back. “...Where did you go?”

His smirk widened. “What, no ‘welcome home’?”

“You’re up to something.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he simply reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, delicate vial filled with a swirling, shimmering liquid.

Your eyes caught the way it sparkled under the chandelier light.

Your instincts locked onto it immediately.

Shiny.

Wait.

You forced yourself to blink and look away. “...What is that?”

Mydei hummed, casually twirling the vial between his fingers. “Oh, just something interesting I found. Nothing too important.”

“If it’s nothing important, then put it away.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why? Does it bother you?”

You knew that tone. That was his teasing tone.

Which meant he definitely had bad intentions.

“Nope. Not at all.”

“Hmm.”

The next thing you knew, he popped the cork open.

The scent hit you instantly.

Your instincts flared.

Your pupils dilated before you could stop them.

The air carried something sweet, enticing, almost hypnotic. Your tail twitched, and your body suddenly felt too warm.

“What—what is that?”

You took a step back, but your body felt wrong. Your senses were sharper, your ears picking up even the faintest rustle of fabric as Mydei took a step closer.

Your claws itched to grip onto something.

Oh hell no.

You spun on your heel to run.

But before you could even take another step, Mydei effortlessly caught your tail.

“My, my,” he mused. “Are you reacting to it?”

“Y-you—this—this is—!”

He gave the slightest tug on your tail, and your breath hitched.

Your instincts were screaming at you, but not in a way you could control. The warmth in your chest made you restless, and Mydei’s smirking face only infuriated you further.

So, you did the only thing that made sense in the moment.

You bit him. A sharp chomp right on his wrist.

“Ah—” Mydei barely reacted, only letting out a small chuckle, though you felt the slight tension in his arm. “Oh? That’s adorable.”

You glared up at him, ears pinned back.

“I hate you” you hissed, teeth still sunk into his skin.

“You sure about that? Because you’re still holding on.”

Your tail bristled, and you finally let go, stepping back with a sharp huff.

Unfortunately, you moved too quickly, causing something to topple over.

A loud clatter echoed through the hallway.

“My lord?” A servant’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Is everything alright?”

Your ears flattened in panic. If they walked in right now, they’d see the absolute mess you had caused—your ruffled clothes, Mydei’s slightly scuffed sleeves, and the very clear bite mark on his wrist.

You lunged for the door and quickly locked it before she could push it open.

Mydei chuckled, leaning against the desk like he was thoroughly enjoying this. “Hiding the evidence now?”

You shot him a glare.

“Everything’s fine!” you called out, trying to sound normal.

“…Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

Then, reluctantly, the servant’s footsteps faded as she left.

You let out a breath of relief.

But your problems were far from over.

Because Mydei was still holding that damn vial.

Your eyes flicked toward it.

Surely… surely it wouldn’t do anything to a human, right?

You lunged.

Mydei’s eyes widened slightly at your sudden movement, but before he could react, your hand smashed into his, knocking the vial loose.

Time seemed to slow.

The shimmering liquid tumbled through the air. It spilled all over him.

The scent immediately intensified, and before you could even process what had happened—

Your instincts snapped. Your ears twitched. Your body moved on its own. You pressed yourself against him and, without thinking—

You licked him.

Right on the neck.

Mydei was more than shocked.

You, however, did not stop.

Your tongue dragged over his collarbone, your hands clutching onto his coat as you instinctively nuzzled into him, your body overcome with warmth and an undeniable urge to—groom.

You had never been this overwhelmed before.

And yet, all you could focus on was how good he smelled, how nice he felt, and how much you wanted to—

“Ah.”

His voice rumbled in amusement.

You froze mid-lick.

Slowly—very slowly—you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

Golden eyes gleamed with pure satisfaction.

“My, my,” he murmured. “This is far better than I expected.”

Your soul left your body.

You tried to move away.

You really did.

But your body betrayed you, instincts still running rampant, and instead of pulling back—

You licked him again.

---

Finally, finally, it was over.

Whatever effect that damn vial had on you finally faded, leaving you exhausted, drained, and wanting nothing more than to curl up and disappear from existence.

Your body gave out, and before you could stop it, you instinctively popped back into your full cat form—small, fluffy, and completely sprawled out on top of Mydei.

You were too tired to care.

And, surprisingly… he didn’t move you.

You barely registered the way his hand rested against your fur, his fingers giving one last teasing scratch before he finally drifted off.

By the time morning arrived, you were back to normal.

And Mydei was gone.

You sat up, ears twitching, eyes darting around the room in slight panic.

He wasn’t here.

Lucky.

You weren’t sure if you could face him right now—not after what happened. Your tail flicked, a deep shame curling in your chest as you remembered every single embarrassing thing you did.

You licked him.

Multiple times.

You needed to erase that from history.

But more importantly—

You needed to ban that damn vial from existence.

Without wasting another second, you bolted out of bed, snatching up a pile of blank parchment and a stick of charcoal.

You were going to make it very clear that such a thing was never allowed in this house again.

It took hours.

But by the time you were finished, the entire estate was plastered with your angry little sketches—hastily drawn pictures of the accursed vial, each one crossed out with a big, aggressive “X.”

Some were on the doors.

Some were on the walls.

Some were even on Mydei’s office desk.

And to your absolute satisfaction, no one stopped you.

The servants said nothing.

Mydei—who had definitely seen them—said nothing.

He probably thought it was hilarious, but at least he wasn’t teasing you about it.

Yet.

For now, you stood back and admired your work, hands on your hips, tail flicking in satisfaction.

Good.

That thing was never coming back.

[yccoffeesimp]

𝙔𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙘𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣𝙨

Gender-neutral reader!! (I forgot to post this here as well :>)

A stellaron hunter, wanted with a near 8.13  billion credits on his head. A swordsman who sacrificed his body to become a blade. His salvation from the undying pain of Mara was once death. The other plane of existence. That was until he set eyes on you. A fellow trailblazer upon the Astral Express.

He never understood what it was he felt when you were around. He felt... Calm? At ease. Alive. It all started when you followed the Trailblazer onto the Xianzhou Loufo. And ever since that moment, he wanted- No. He craved your presence. He felt so alive when he saw you. No longer suffocating from the binds of the past and its mistakes. But that all disappeared when you went away.

He felt disappointed when you left. The constant pain he harbored returned in an instant. Yet in the background of all of that was an unstoppable craving for you.

Blade tried to deny the craving. Refusing to cross your path and avoiding you all in one, which wasn't hard at first, but somehow he felt himself get dragged to you. Eventually, it was too much. He began to realize that he needed you. And at any cost, he will take you.

It was easier said than done. Kafka, Silverwolf, and Firefly all pitched in. Well, more so Kafka. She found this "love" Blade had for you to be amusing. Silverwolf didn't seem to care and Firefly was too busy carrying out the script in Penacony to do anything.

While everything was happening in Penacony, when Dan Heng left with Boothill, you were left alone with Pom-Pom. That's when you went missing from the express. All alone now with a Stellaron Hunter.

There were many times you tried to leave when no one was paying attention. All were in vain as Blade would eventually catch you. It felt like a twisted game of hide and seek. He never understood why you'd want to leave. He wasn't mistreating you at all. You were fed, clothed, and sure all your freedoms were gone now but he never saw a problem with it.

He isn't manipulative like Jing Yuan. But more aggressive. The first time he ever did anything that resulted in injury was when you tried to run for the 5th time. He was getting irritated and you just so happened to try to run when he needed your presence to calm his mind. So seeing you run when he was like that definitely made him snap. He pinned you down like you were a wild animal. His hand gripping your neck was tight enough to leave a bruise. Normally he would just pin you to the floor. His hand kept your head to the floor as his knee was dug into your back, waiting patiently for you to stop struggling. After that, he would carry you back to your room before locking you in it. Such a nice man.

However, when you began to stop running, he wasn't aggressive anymore. He would just silently bask in your presence, his head in your lap or shoulder. Bringing you food, water, or whatever you need. Of course, he was curious as to why you stopped. Blade would never ask though. All that mattered to him now was that you were his. His salvation was finally in his grasp.

Nicknames: None

___________________________________________The silence of the room was deafening to you. You sat on the edge of your bed, the navy blue-haired individual who brought you here was easily resting his head on your lap. You questioned how he could be so at ease with what he does. He slaughtered many and destroyed several things. One of those was your freedom. Though you didn't do anything about it, you felt bad after what Kafka told you about Blade. Or at first. Honestly, you don't know what you feel for him anymore. Blade's head shifted in your lap a bit, causing your hands to flinch as you realized it was in his hair. "Sorry." You uttered. Waiting for a reply, you sigh as you'll never get one. ___________________________________________

[theanxiousfireblossom]

Trigger warning, I mention SA in this post in relation to an unhealthy relationship. It’s not explicit or anything, but it is there.

Easily, Marissa Meyer has had an absolute death grip on my life the last couple of months and I gotta say she has become like, my favorite author. This is easily because of the relationships she writes.

I haven’t finished the Renegades trilogy yet, but I am almost finished with Archenemies, and this book has had me squealing in delight. Oscar and Ruby just have such a cute dynamic where it is obvious to everyone but each other, and comes from a place of such big respect for the other person. They both recognize the good, fun attributes they like about the other and both struggle with the “I don’t know how to tell them, I am not even sure of my own feelings” mentality. It’s fantastic.

Then there is Adrian and Nova and, just, yeeeees. In a lot of ways they remind me of Scarlet and Wolf from the Lunar Chronicles. Like, they are both immediately attracted to each other and it’s a very passionate and deep love. So deep, Nova has considered straight up just abandoning everything she was raised with, which is kind of the whole reason they met. I also like that, unlike Scarlet and Wolf, it takes some time for them to get on the same page, and I love me my dense babies that can not take the most obvious hints they are given. It makes me super excited to get to Supernova and see how it is going to crash and burn at least somewhat.

Going back to Scarlet and Wolf, they just have so much chemistry and are adorable. I was in love with the speed inferno that was their whole relationship. I also saw someone else say this, but I love how secure they are in their relationship while being equally possessive of the other person in a not toxic way.

Then there is Cinder and Kai, and I give Marissa extra brownie points for this one cause, not gonna lie, I really was not sold on the relationship at the end of the first book. I thought the flirting was cute, but especially when Kai said she was harder to look at than Levana I was like “BRUH!!! She has been through so much, don’t even!” BUT, the end of book three really sold it to me. Having an honest conversation, giving the needed and well deserved hugs, it was perfection.

Winter and Jacin is childhood friends to lovers. Literally, what more could we ask? I do also love the undertone of “as you wish” vibes from the Princess Bride. I also liked that Jaxon’s side of the romance would have 100% get in the way of massive, revolutionary plans, and the only reason it didn’t was because Winter was like “no”.

And, it may have broke me, but Cath and Jest. It was a quick fall, but I loved that neither fell in love at first sight. They were definitely attracted at first sight, but it wasn’t until they had several longer interactions that they both were like “I am in trouble”. And then the sacrifices they make for each other is really fun to think about. Jest gave himself up after they returned from the sisters that first time, Cath ran away with him at the ball, sacrificing literally everything that’s important to the gentry, then Jest sacrifices his life, and Cath basically does the same in order to avenge him. It was a destructive love, but one I was rooting for nonetheless.

Then there is Levana and Evret, and this one stands out because it is so toxic. It really shows that there are unhealthy, unhappy relationships out there. Levana’s love was built on this idea she had created out of loneliness, and she wasn’t willing to give it up for anything at first. She clung to it so much she harassed and SAed Evret. She manipulated him and forced him into a marriage he did not at all want. Then that is followed with her killing him in order to further her goals for Luna. It is not healthy and Marissa never acts like it is supposed to be, and I really appreciate that.

Another I love that nearly all these relationships have in common was they never forgot their goals. Romance was not the goal, and often times takes a back seat to their actual goals. Cinder is starting a revolution, Kai is usually not on her mind, or at least, not enough to distract her from what she is doing. Scarlet is looking for her grandmother and she even gets mad at herself for flirting while her grandmother is missing. Cath wants to open a bakery, Jest needs her heart to stop a war. Nova is busily trying to tear down the Renegades before her uncle dies.

Each relationship is unique and so lovable that I just want to root for them to have a happily ever after.

I gotta say, of the books I’ve read so far, only Cress and Throne fell flat for me. I love both characters individually, but I just wasn’t sold on the romance. I think it just comes from a place of realizing I am not as forgiving as Cress and having a partner who habitually flirts with everything that moves would just be too hard for me to accept. I love how much they trust each other, but her jealousy and his flirting just didn’t make for a believable combination in my opinion. No hate to anyone who does love them though. They have their moments and I won’t deny that.

[windsiintheeast]

Meyers Griggs

✉️  — Hey, is that MEYERS GRIGGS listening to PAUL REVERE by THE BEASTIE BOYS? He’s known around town as THE HELPING HAND, because he’s RELIABLE and GIVING, but ever since the Departure, he’s become more SELF-SACRIFICING and WITHDRAWN. He’s lived in Redford for HIS WHOLE LIFE and works at REDFORD PUBLIC LIBRARY as the HEAD LIBRARIAN. If you need him, you can find him in WELCOME WAGON TRAILER PARK. 

General

Name: Meyers Griggs Age: 39 Gender: Trans man Pronouns: he/him/his Sexuality: bi

Physical

Height: 6’4” Hair Color: black, going gray Eye Color: brown Build: he’s got a bit of meat on him, broad shoulders Piercings: ears pierced as a baby, but doesn’t wear earrings most of the time Style: will put on a button-up (sometimes) for work, but that’s it. constant jeans

Quick Facts

- He walks everywhere. Partly because he doesn’t own a car, but mostly because he wants to.  - He walks right into the woods most weekends. Loves backcountry camping. - Has a feud with the community college librarian. She did her best to quash his librarian dreams with her incompetence, but she only fueled his drive with spite. She’s still there, the old bitch, and if you mention that library you will certainly hear Meyers’ opinions. - He would never wish widow-hood on his sister or the loss of a parent on his niece, but he was a little disappointed his sister’s husband wasn’t Departed. - He transitioned young and dealt with the occasional bigot, but none from his immediate family. It’s been so long since he transitioned that most people forgot he ever did. - Nobody knows that he’s keeping an eye on the lighthouse, but it’s not because he keeps it a secret. Nobody asks. It’s mostly automated now, but the communication system with the Coast Guard appears to be severed, so Meyers walks up there every month or so to check on it. Someone’s gotta do it, and he has time.

Connections Sought

- Lifetime Redfordians– you’ve probably known Meyers for while now, whether it be as childhood friends or as the local librarian. - Library regulars

Backstory

A Redfordian, born and raised, and the most average of Joes. He grew up loved, and he loved in return. He and his younger sister spent their childhoods running around the Welcome Wagon and the woods with the other kids. 

When he was eight, someone found their parents’ stash of fireworks from the last Fourth of July. Smokey the Bear was well-known to Redfordians, with their proximity to the redwoods and the national park, but the kids figured they knew what they were doing. Meyers lost his hearing in one ear that day and burnt down a shed, a shit-ton of undergrowth, and four trees. Everyone is well past it now, but some of the older Redford residents still give him shit about the time he tried to light the forest on fire.

He recovered as well and as quickly as he could, but it was hard to adapt to the new levels of effort it took to listen, particularly in crowds or the noise of the elementary lunch room. He found himself in the library voluntarily for the first time in his life and decided to dedicate himself to it. He first fell in love with the safe acceptance it symbolized, then that love extended to the education, opportunity, and growth the institution advocated. He spent the duration of his online masters degree volunteering at the local library and was easily hired after graduating.

Now as the head librarian, he cultivates a welcoming space with no outside pressures. He withholds service from no one, not even members of the cults that seem to keep creeping out of the forest. Knowledge belongs to everyone. He’s a stable, reliable member of the community.

Meyers wouldn’t have known about the Departure if he hadn’t been told. His parents were already dead, and his sister, her husband, and their daughter were safe. It certainly isn’t guilt he feels, at surviving this horror untouched, but he sees himself as someone with more to give than most other people these days. His proverbial cup is fuller, so he pours from it, but it might not be as full as he thinks it is.

[wildwitche]

Since Chen recommended Garmadon to change the signature in the letter, he could be not only and the owner of Mr. Chen's Noodle House but also a matchmaker!!

he seemed to know that this letter will be the very last push to choose one of the brothers

just imagine, you are walking in Ninjago city and you see flyers and signs with Chen painted on them and the inscriptions: "There is a woman you like and you want her to become yours? Then come to Cupidon Master Chen's studio and I will tell you how with the help of only two things you can make your dream"

and the one person comes to him for advice and he says:

Chen: first you must have a brother....

someone: but i don't have a brother !

Chen: oh, then nothing will work

Someone: what is he for me?

Chen: everything is simple. You must have a brother so that he also falls in love with this girl, so that he then writes a letter declaring his love, so that you can then intercept the letter, change the signature and send it from your name

Someone: and..?

Chen: and then she will receive a letter from you, thinking that you wrote it, and after that you will be a couple, then you will have a wedding and children and you will be happy

Chen: when you pay for this procedure, you will also receive people to intercept your brother's letter so that you can change the signature )

and you know, the person agrees to this, and reads the contract to sign, but there are a lot of clauses, and one of them is written about a warning but in very, very small letters, it says something about a squall:" but then something will happen to you, you will still disappear , and when it's back to normal again, you'll be with your wife again for a while, but you'll have to disappear again and your wife will only miss you for a couple of seconds and forget about you, because your brother will be with her"

[secretmellowblog]

I’ve been thinking about the Javert/Eponine parallels lately and like!!! I completely forgot that the line where Enjolras tells Javert “your friends have just shot you” is immediately followed by the chapter where Eponine dies of her gunshot wound

I know other people have written posts (and i probably will too) about the parallels between Javert and Eponine— how they’re both described as “guard dogs whose parents are wolves,” how they turn against their criminal parents to defend “society,” how Eponine is described using police metaphors, how Eponine often talks about drowning herself and Javert is supposed to die at the barricades but then they “trade deaths” so that Eponine dies at the barricades and Javert drowns himself, Javert seeing Eponine’s corpse right before he’s about to be executed and remarking that he feels like he knows her, and so on

But I’m really emotional about the parallel between....... how Javert and Eponine are the “guard dogs” of a person or institution that Doesn’t Care About Them, and barely even knows they exist.

Eponine gives her life for Marius, but he doesn’t even notice! She has to crawl over to him to make him talk to her because otherwise, he wouldnt even know she saved his life. She did so much for him and gave up so much for him, and he barely remembers she exists. She’s at his feet after taking a bullet for him and he doesn’t even recognize her.

Javert gives his life for the society he serves, and is calm/resolute while facing his execution. Then the National Guard has an easy opportunity to save Javert’s life — they just have to pull a hostage exchange, giving Jehan in exchange for Javert. They could easily save the life of the police officer who has done everything “right” for them, who has been completely submissive and obedient his entire life, who has dedicated his entire soul to his work, who has turned himself into a cruel empty friendless husk for his work, who has sacrificed everything for them— but they don’t. Because they don’t care!

Because Javert is to the National Guard what Eponine is to Marius— if he’s not literally crawling up to them and begging them to notice him, he might as well not exist.

Les Amis instantly notice and care when Jehan Prouvaire is missing. but Javert goes missing and is instantly easily forgotten/discarded, because he’s not important and no one cares and the police/military don’t value human life.

There’s a line later on where Javert’s behavior as he awaits execution is described like this:

“A spy of the first quality, who had observed everything, listened to everything, and taken in everything, even when he thought he was to die; who had played the spy even in his agony; and who, with his elbows leaning on the first step of the sepulcher, had taken notes.”

And I’ve seen people try to argue that line shows how Heroic /noble Javert is, and I’m here like no! :((That line isn’t heroic, it’s just….deeply pathetic and pitiable.

To me that line has the same Feeling as Eponine slowly dying and, “with her elbows leaning on the sepulcher,” using the last of her strength to crawl over to Marius and try to make him notice her.

One major difference is that Marius is ignorant but he does ultimately Feel Something about Eponine and tries to take care of her as she dies, while the police/national guard do not care about Javert at alllllll........when he returns to the police station and gives a brief report of what happened to him, they indifferently just put him back on duty again without even telling him to take a break first. :|

Javert’s executioners (Valjean and even Enjolras) ultimately show far more concern for him than the people who are supposedly “on his side,” because unlike cops they actually value human life, lol

But I don’t know. Even beyond this specific metaphor, there’s just something so sad about the way both Javert and Eponine are so “unimportant” to the other characters, so quickly forgotten by them. Almost immediately after Eponine dies Marius moves on to reading Cosette’s letter; Valjean reads about Javert’s suicide in the newspaper and says “he must’ve been crazy” and then forgets about him. Eponine and Javert have these deep complicated thorny emotional relationships with the other characters that they literally destroy/kill themselves over, but those deep emotions aren’t returned/requited at all, in a really bitter horrible awful way.

[yandere-daydreams]

I neeeeeeeed more Hades and Persephone with their darling! Maybe a continuation of the last one, but it’s Hades’ turn with darling?

He’d have to steal his Darling away for that, wouldn’t he? Persephone is far from a demanding captor, but with how on-edge she is around Hades, it’s not hard to believe she’d be hesitant to leave the two of you alone. She deserves to be paranoid, at least. 

Part One.

TW: Minor Acts of Violence, Past Kidnapping, Current Captivity, Emotional Manipulation, and Mentions of Starvation.

~

Hades’ garden was the only place in the Underworld with sunlight. 

Well, ‘sunlight’ might’ve been the wrong word for it. There was no sun, no sky, no heat - there couldn’t be, not this far underground. But, there were slivers in the ground where rays of light spilled in, flowing down like sparkling streams of water and bouncing off of gemstones and smooth stone until the barest hints of their radiance reached the plot of land designated to buds that bloomed into thorns rather than petals, trees that’d bleed magma rather than sap, fruits of the dead that’d dye your fingertips red for days, even if you didn’t dare to pluck them off their stems. You couldn’t see it, but if you sat on the stone and closed your eyes, you could feel it, you could imagine the ghost of its warmth on your cold, frozen skin. You savored the garden. You relished the garden. You loved the garden, as much as you could love any part of your gilded cage.

You just wished you could enjoy it alone, for once. 

Hades was like a shadow. Persephone was easily dissuaded when you expressed an interest in venturing beyond the confines of her palace, but Hades was an aura, a chill, a pair of eyes you couldn’t shake or stop from prying into your skin more painstakingly than any dagger ever could. This was his domain, his kingdom, and yet, away from his throne and his crown and his mistress, he seemed more like one of the spirits he ruled over than a god cast off of Olympus. You’d long-since come to terms with it, hiding yourself away and holding your breath, limiting your movements, being as quiet and as still as possible in hopes of coaxing him out, as a hunter would for a timid fawn. Some days, it took a few minutes and others, a few hours. Today, he must’ve been feeling confident. Your lungs had only begun to ache by the time he gathered the courage to show himself. 

You kept your attention centered on the flower in front of you, as he approached. A translucent rose, jagged shards of glass curling around a crystalline core and emerging from a base of emerald, the edge of each petal just starting to blacken and wilt. A thought played on your tongue as Hades came to a stop at your side, as he muttered an affectionate greeting under his breath. You meant to return the gesture, intent on keeping your relationship with your captors as civil as it had to be, but you were already asking before you could stop yourself, posing a question you weren’t sure you’d like the answer to. “Will it die?” 

That seemed to catch Hades off-guard. He hesitated before he answered, his hands twitching where they were folded behind his back as he fought the urge to scan over you. You were almost thankful he was the more concerned of the two. Persephone would’ve clicked her tongue, pulled you into her side, and told you that they would, but that you also shouldn’t ask after such morbid things. At least Hades wasn’t so patronizing. “They will,” He confirmed, finally, his tone steady. “Eventually. They last longer than plants in the mortal realm, but I made them to be living things.” A pause, a bite to the inside of his cheek. “That comes with a certain set of requirements, unfortunately.” 

You shouldn’t have been surprised. You’d had to step over half a dozen shattered flowers just to get to this part of the garden, and you knew he wouldn’t design something that went against the law of nature he worked so tirelessly to uphold. “I’m a living thing,” You mumbled, the words barely audible. “Does that mean I’ll have to conform to your requirements, one day?” 

Hades didn’t see fit to answer, this time. “You haven’t been eating.” 

Technically, you haven’t eaten at all, not since you’re arrival. Hades had tried his hand at locking you in your room, raising his voice, making threats of what would happen if you didn’t take your meals with gratitude, and Persephone had gone on about how torturous hunger could be for an hour or two before growing frustrated and leaving you to wallow in your pain, but neither seemed to understand the notion that you’d much rather face the pangs and the aches and the weaknesses that came with starvation than accept the fact that you’d be thoroughly, completely, utterly trapped here for the rest of your now-eternal life. Among the dead, you had no appetite, no desire, no will. Not when the consequences of submission were so unignorable.

You wanted to stay warm far more than you wanted to make them happy. 

You must’ve been silent for a moment too long. For the first time, Hades let out a sigh, the man shaking his head as he turned to face you. His lips were barely turned downward, his brow furrowed in something more akin to irritation than rage, but it was the angriest you’d seen him, the angriest at you he’d ever been. “There’s no point in putting it off.” He didn’t make excuses, didn’t make it sound like submitting would do you any good, but that almost made it worse. Unlike Persephone, he knew he was in the wrong. Unlike Persephone, he didn’t try to make it sound like he thought he wasn’t. “You’re here because there are two people in the Underworld who love you more than anyone in the mortal realm ever could. By behaving like this, you’re not just hurting yourself, you’re hurting us. That’s not the kind of action you should be able to take without guilt.” 

“Because my pain is the only kind that doesn’t matter,” You replied, tearing your eyes away from Hades and forcing yourself to direct your glare at the ground, at the dull, shriveled jewels that littered the ground because he wasn’t kind enough to share his immortality with the creatures who needed it. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t prayed for it, or begged it, or needed it, as much as he’d like to pretend you did. You hadn’t wanted it, and you refused to act as if you had. “You might love me, but I don’t love you. As soon as I get my chance to leave, I don’t plan on sacrificing it for a slice of a pomegranate. If that hurts you, then maybe you should be--”

He didn’t hit you, he didn’t lash out, but he didn’t have to. The iron-clad, ice cold fingers soon wrapped around your wrist were enough to stop you, enough to remind you that Persephone wasn’t the only deity you had to be afraid of, here. Reflexively, you snapped toward him, but you couldn’t help but shrink into yourself as soon as your eyes met his, grey and metallic and so, so wrathful. “I don’t want to hear a word of what you just said get back to Persephone,” He growled, his grip tightening, his nails biting into your skin drawing fresh, hot blood. If he noticed, though, he didn’t care, only pulling you forward as he went on. “There won’t be a second warning. If you dare to say something so careless to my wife, it’ll be her mercy you’ll have to rely on. I can guarantee you mine will be out of your reach, by then.” 

He let you go, scowling as you pulled your injured arm to your chest, not caring how the pooling blood might stain your clothes. You could only nod and avert your stare, your throat dry and your mind so blank, you almost forgot you’d ever thought you were capable of thought. 

All you knew was that, quite suddenly, the garden felt just as frigid as the rest of the Underworld.

[timetravelinator]

Percy Jackson Birthday Fic

Hey guys! I know I'm coming in just under the wire here, but it's once again August 18th, meaning it's once again Percy Jackson's birthday! I've written a little fic for the occasion!

Because it's me, it's a sickfic! Content warning for nightmares, and spoiler warning through the Heroes of Olympus series!

I will be posting this concurrently to AO3, but you can find it right here under the cut! If you like it, consider reblogging it or leaving a comment on ao3! Happy Birthday Percy!

Percy’s still in bed when Annabeth knocks on the door to the bedroom.

“You ready? You’ve got about fifteen minutes.” she calls through the door, and Percy just groans and rolls over. He forgot about his birthday dinner. It was too late to cancel, his mom and stepdad would be so disappointed. It doesn’t matter that he feels miserable, he’s got to get up. When he doesn’t give an answer, Annabeth opens the door. “Percy, it’s time to-oh. You’re still in bed.” She walks closer to him, and he closes his eyes. He feels Annabeth’s soft touch on his cheek, and she gasps slightly. “Oh.” she says in a small voice, and Percy’s not sure what that means, but now her hand is gone. That sure isn’t what he wanted.

He keeps his eyes closed. It does keep the headache down, and it stops him from feeling quite so nauseous. He can only sense Annabeth in the room by her footsteps pacing back and forth across the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Mrs. Jackson,” she says, and Percy knits his eyebrows a little. Not only does the sound send a bit more pain through his head, he also wonders why Annabeth might be calling his mom. “I just went to check on Percy to make sure he was getting ready, and he’s running a fever. Maybe we should postpone dinner until he’s feeling up to it, maybe next week just in case? Yeah, I can change the reservation, don’t worry about it. Yes. Yes, I promise I’ll update you every hour. Of course. Actually, yeah, I’ve got enough for tonight but if you wanted to drop by in the morning I’m sure he’d like that. Yeah. Alright, see you then. Alright. Bye.”

Annabeth’s footsteps move closer to him. He feels the same cool hand, this time on his forehead. She moves her hand, which makes him sad, but she plants a kiss there instead, which helps. She leaves the room and returns quickly.

“Hey, babe, do you think you can sit up for me? Just real quick.” she says. He wants more than anything to not move, but he can’t defy Annabeth, not when she’s asking so sweetly. He opens his eyes to see her worried face, and she helps him sit up. She sticks a thermometer in his mouth, which is a surprising sensation, but then she sticks a cool rag on the back of his neck, so he forgives her. When she takes it out, she makes a little sound of distaste. “This must’ve come on fast, huh?”

He doesn’t answer, just takes the medicine she sets in his mouth and a sip of the water. She helps him lay back down, and he drifts to sleep.

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

Percy is in pain.

He’s on fire. His body is shaking. He’s on his knees, chained to a wall, wheezing. The air smells and tastes distinctly like Tartarus. That must be where he is, he decides. He never really left. Except he can’t find Annabeth. She’s not next to him. Maybe she made it out. Maybe she...no, she must have made it out.

She’s not there, but he is. He tries to move against the shackles, but it hurts, and he can’t get them free. There’s no water around, no water that wouldn’t also kill him, so he really feels backed against the wall this time.

He blinks, and suddenly Nyx stands before him. He recognizes her easily enough, and she has a wicked smile on her face. He sees darkness. He sees Annabeth, scared, stumbling around as she screams that he abandoned her. He sees his friends, lying dead from a war that didn’t need to happen. He sees his mom, flailing for her life, being squeezed by the giant fist of a minotaur. Anger wells up inside of him. He tries to use that strength to break the chains, but it only leaves welts on his wrists as they start to bleed from the force against the cuffs.

The goddess hums, a deep, discordant sound that rivals that of a dying whale, and Percy screams, the sound drowning out his will to live. The heat seems to rise around him. He was already on fire, but now it feels like the thermostat has been turned up to 6,000 degrees, which he’s pretty sure is bad in Fahrenheit AND celsius.

After the sound, Percy begins to see more scenes. He sees Luke, writhing with Kronos’s spirit in him, as he takes his own life, the blood spilling out onto the floor of Olympus, signaling a new era but also the loss of a friend. He sees Silena, her dying breaths spent believing she was a traitor when Percy only saw someone who wanted to do the right thing. He feels how his gut sank and his heart pounded when he realized that Beckendorf couldn’t survive the fall into the water the way he could. He feels the grief realizing Bianca had sacrificed herself to get them out of the junkyard, the weight of her death and Nico’s loss making him stagger even now.

“Stop, please.” he breathes out. Each wave, each reminder of a friend he’d never see again punches him in the gut. He’s sweating, the air is getting tighter around him, and he doesn’t think it’s the emotional pain. Nyx is doing this to him. He has to break out of it, to fight it, but he doesn’t have the strength. “No more.” he pleads, his voice hoarse and shaky. He realizes he’s been crying, and the tears are still streaming down his face.

Then, he sees Annabeth. He doesn’t remember Annabeth dying, so he knows he can’t take this one. If he doesn’t remember it, he must have repressed it. That must be why she wasn’t with him.

“Percy?” she asks, her voice full of concern as if he’s the one who’s in trouble. He can’t get a word out other than a simple, feeble “stop.”

She walks towards him and puts her hand on his cheek. It feels so good, so blissfully cool and real, that he whimpers.

“Oh, gods,” she says, cursing in Ancient Greek as she walks away. He doesn’t want her to go away. As soon as she leaves him, she’s going to die, and he has to watch. He lets out a strangled cry, which turns into a retch.

He leans forward, trying to catch his breath. He’s not sure what’s bringing it on, but he can’t breathe. The scenes he was forced to watch? The thought of Annabeth dying?

“Shit, Percy!” Annabeth exclaims, coming back over to him.

She puts an arm around him, and he wants to explain to her that he can’t leave even with her help, but somehow he’s moving, leaving Tartarus and everything behind.

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

When Percy fully wakes up, he’s in a bedroom.

It takes him a minute to realize he’s in his own apartment, not the actual hellscape that is Tartarus.

“You with me this time?” Annabeth asks, and Percy takes a second to breathe deeply before nodding gently. “Good. I was afraid I was going to have to haul your ass all the way to camp to get some help.” She says it jokingly, but it’s clear to Percy that she genuinely was concerned.

“I just had a nightmare, that’s all,” Percy says, but Annabeth gave him a look. They both knew that nightmares for them were never just nightmares.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Annabeth asks, sitting on the side of the bed. Her stormy grey eyes fill with worry, and it makes Percy’s heart clench. It takes him a second to respond.

“It’s never going to go away, is it? I mean, after all we’ve seen, is there even such a thing as a peaceful life?” Percy asks aloud, but he can’t expect Annabeth to have an answer. Even in her seemingly infinite wisdom, she doesn’t always know the right thing to say.

“No, Percy. It doesn’t go away.” she says.

“Oh, good,” Percy says sarcastically, “Just what I wanted to hear.” Annabeth smiles at him, and though he doesn’t see much to smile at, Annabeth’s smile has always had that effect on him. She rolls her eyes.

“It doesn’t go away, but it gets better. We’ll keep making good memories, keep having good experiences, and someday, the good ones will outweigh the bad ones. Like, y’know how we almost died like once a month as preteens?”

“No, I seem to have forgotten that.” Percy’s sarcasm knows no bounds. Annabeth punches his arm gently.

“Well, we did. But, you also remember that time the whole camp baked you a birthday cake? And that time we kissed under the water? And the campfires, and friendly capture the flag matches? Basically, what I’m saying is, of course there are going to be bad times,”

“Like the dying,”

“But there will be good times too. And those are what makes it all worth it.” Annabeth finishes despite Percy’s interjections.

“I get it. It’ll get better and all that,” Percy says, but he really is serious. “Thanks, Wise Girl.”

“Of course, Seaweed Brain,” she says, tousling his hair. He leans into the touch. It’s comforting. “Now get some rest.”

He’s asleep before she even leaves the room.

[troubatrain]

afterglow - k. hayes

a/n: a repost from my old blog!

You were having the day from hell. You were late for a work meeting, which only ended in being berated by your boss for the third time this week. You were positive she was just trying to push you to quit, which is just wonderful. You’d barely been working there a year, and the thing that you sacrificed for that job was one of the hardest decisions you’d ever made. Then, in true New York City fashion, you were six blocks from a subway station and it started to downpour on your walk home. You finally walk into your apartment, kicking off your now soaked beyond belief heels, walking into your kitchen immediately and grabbing a bottle of wine out of your fridge. You sigh, pouring it and taking it into your bedroom.

The worst part of your day was still looming. You pull out a box, filled to the brim with the memories of your past relationship. You called Kevin a week ago, after running into Mika at the Starbucks a few blocks away from MSG. You remembered you had a box with his, and you offered it to him when he came to play the Rangers. You didn’t think you would even get an answer, and you knew Kevin left things everywhere and he’d just replace them like it never happened. You couldn’t even remember how many ties of his would go missing by the time he would come back from a road trip. But, Kevin answered that he would swing by and grab them after his flight landed. You hadn’t seen Kevin since the night you kicked him out of your apartment, far too livid at him to form words.

February 25, 2018

You were on edge all day. Kevin had mentioned to you when you started dating that he might not be in New York all season. You both decided to ignore that, pretending like it wasn’t happening until it was. You had only been seeing each other for a few months, but with Kevin, you knew it would be him forever. 

You stared at the TV in shock, mouth hanging open at the news.

Kevin Hayes traded to the Winnipeg Jets

You didn’t care what the Rangers had gotten in return, you didn’t care about how far away Winnipeg was, you cared that your entire world was just torn apart. You hadn’t been dating long at the time, a mere six months, which put you in a bizarre position about what the future would hold for the two of you. You sat in your apartment in the West Village, waiting for Kevin to make the short trip from Chelsea. 

“Babe?” You hear him unlock the door with the key you’d given him a month ago.

“You’re leaving,” You whisper lowly, not wanting to admit to yourself.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay, we’ll work it out. You can come with me, in the off-season I’ll sign a new deal and we’ll start making a new home for ourselves,” Kevin says softly, baby blue eyes looking into yours as he kneels in front of you on the couch to get eye-level with you. 

“Kev I can’t just pick up and leave, I have work and a life here,” You tried to explain, you’d moved to New York when you were 18 and headed to NYU, bright eyed and full of hope, and stayed after graduation, building a career for yourself in the city. You loved New York, the culture, the atmosphere, and on most nights the people. You’d just taken your dream job, and you weren’t in any position to give it up.

“I can take care of you, come September we’ll be able to settle down somewhere else,” Kevin whispers, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I don’t want that Kev!” You shout, not realizing your voice had risen, “I did all of this on my own, I’m not going to let you just take care of me, you know that.”

“Y/N what am I supposed to do? This my job, I don’t have a choice, I told you this might happen,” Kevin shouts back. 

He was right, he told you after your first date that he wasn’t sure if he would even be a Ranger for the rest of the season. His contract was going to expire and the team was in a rebuild, he knew if he had a good season he would be gone by the deadline.

“Kevin, I’m not that girl,” You start, you were upset and you were lashing out at Kevin for even asking you to leave New York, “I’m not going to follow you around and give my dreams for your job.”

“I’ve never asked you to be,” Kevin shouts back, “Can you be the kind of girl who’s there for me?”

“I’m sure you can find her in Winnipeg,” You deadpan, crossing your arms at him. It was the first time you’d ever fought, and most definitely the first time Kevin’s ever raised his voice at you. His face was red, veins popping out of his neck. He was mad, and you were mad that he couldn’t understand where you were coming from. Kevin was more traditional than you, and while it made him a gentleman, it made it hard for him to get that you liked to work.

“You want me to go off to Winnipeg and find another girl?” Kevin asks, his tone harsh, “It would make road trips fun again.”

His last words were muttered under his breath, but that didn’t mean you didn’t hear them. The second the words slipped out of his mouth, you both went silent. His sentence rocked your world. You never thought Kevin would cheat on you, he’d always made it clear to you that he was yours and you were his. But, the way the words fell out so easily made your skin crawl. You wanted to scream, cry, and fight with him for the next day - but you weren’t being given that time.

“Kevin, just go, I’m sure you need to pack,” You say, tears threatening to spill. 

He stands in the doorway, debating whether or not to leave, he looks at you defeated and walks out of your apartment. You sat on the floor of your apartment that night, tears flooding out of your eyes while you wore Kevin’s too big Red Sox hoodie that you loved so much.

--

You wipe a little dust off the box, it's been almost a year since that night. You’d seen Kevin, on the internet at least, not being able to stop yourself from Instagram stalking your ex-boyfriend. You unfollowed all of his friends, and most of his family - only following his sister just because you liked to see pictures of his niece. Which was fine, until she posted a video of Kevin trying to braid her hair when they headed to Winnipeg to visit, and you cried in the bathroom at work. You opened it, trying to even remember what was inside.

You pulled out a few of his hoodies, because his clothes were always thrown around your apartment. You laugh, pulling out the Patriots hoodie you’d borrowed after the first night you crashed in his apartment. You wore it on the walk back, ignoring hollers about the sports team on your chest while you weaved through the streets of Manhattan while you took a walk of shame back to your place. You hold the gray fabric in your hands, remembering the way it felt - soft like Kevin always was with you. You pull out a couple of his beanies, remember how many he would leave at your house and then just buy another because he forgot about it. You pulled out a few ticket stubs, random concerts you’d both been to that you tossed in there when you broke up. Then you hit the two small velvet boxes that you never stopped thinking about.

You pulled out the first box, opening it to reveal the necklace Kevin had gotten you for Christmas. It was so perfect, you were positive Brady’s girlfriend had to have helped him pick it out. You only tried to wear it once after you broke up, but the memories that flooded back when you put it on was too much. Then there was the other box. Kevin had gotten you the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen in your life for your birthday. He claimed it didn’t mean anything, but when his eyes sparkled when you slipped it on your left hand, to try it on in the restaurant you were in, you thought it may mean more than he was leading on. It was your favorite piece of jewelry, the ring was dainty and small just the way you liked it. You were surprised Kevin even picked it out, considering he lived by the motto that the bigger the better, but he told you he knew you needed it when he saw it in a shop window on a roadtrip in Chicago. You drop the box, hoping maybe he would give it to someone else one day, if there wasn't someone else already.

You hear your someone try to buzz into your building and you knew it had to be Kevin. You carry the box with you in the living room, buzzing him in and dropping it on the island in your kitchen. You sigh, hearing his heavy footsteps come down the door, opening it and letting himself in.

“Hey,” You say, your voice small.

“Hey,” Kevin breathes out, you were both nervous which you guess could be a good thing. He looked different, his hair was a little longer and his beard a little fuller. 

Suddenly, as if the universe decided to lay it all on you today, the power in your apartment shuts out, a loud crash of thunder following. You jump, feeling Kevin’s large hands on your shoulders when you do.

“Fuck, give me a minute,” You mutter, running into your room to grab some candles. You spread them around your apartment, lighting them until your apartment wasn’t completely dark.

“All of downtown is in a blackout,” Kevin says, reading the news on his phone, “Like all of it.”

You bite your lip, debating your options. You shouldn’t let Kevin go back out in this weather, and with no power on one half of Manhattan, it wasn’t a great idea. 

“You should stay, til this all blows over,” You offer, gesturing to your island where the box sat.

“That’s my stuff?” Kevin asks, opening the box and smiling at the contents. You watch them sift through the box, a wide smile on his face that could barely make out in the glow of the candles that littered your apartment. His hands gripped the same velvet box you dropped in just before he arrived.

“You should keep these,” Kevin says, “They were gifts.”

“Give them to someone else one day,” You whisper, sitting on your counter while you watched him, “That’s what you wanted right?”

You didn’t realize the words came out of your mouth. You’d been harboring this feeling of resentment for so long, your entire world was crushed in a matter of a night and you just wanted some closure. You thought you could get it by just giving him his stuff back, but it still wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t want that,” Kevin says back, “You said it first!”

“You asked me to be someone I wasn’t Kevin,” You say, your voice rising, “That wasn’t fair to me!”

“It wasn’t fair to me that I had to leave, but I did,” Kevin shouts, “And all I wanted was for you to come with me, because I love you.”

“Do you think that it was fucking easy to let you go? Or that I didn’t spend months of my life regretting it? Because I did,” You yell, tears welling up in your eyes, “Congrats Kevin you win, I was fucking miserable without you and the reason I stayed in New York isn’t working out.”

You stomp into your room, slamming the door and sliding down it. You finally just let yourself cry. About that fucking night. About losing the love of your life for some job that isn’t working out. About ruining your own happiness because you could just compromise once. Kevin knocked lightly on the other side, finally giving up after what was probably his hundredth time, sliding down the other side of your bedroom door.

“It was really lonely up there” Kevin whispers, loud enough for you to hear through the door, “In Winnipeg.”

Kevin talked for an hour. He talked about Winnipeg, how no matter what he did he couldn’t stop thinking about you. How he wishes you could have been there. He talked about his summer in Boston, mentioning how his sister got married and he wished you were there. He talked about how his mom asked about you all summer, but he just kept brushing it off because he couldn’t tell her it was his fault. Which leads up to now, where he is finally getting to the new city he set roots in.

“-I like Philly,” Kevin whispers, “You would too, everyone there is great. You’d love my teammates, and they’d love you.”

“Kev?” You finally say, your voice still trembling, “What happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin says back, his head tapping the door, “I didn’t mean what I said, I don’t know why I said it, but I didn’t mean it.”

“We were both upset, about everything,” You say back, standing up and opening the door, “I’m sorry for telling you to go find someone else.”

Kevin stands up, his hands finding both sides of your face to wipe away the stray tears that were left, “I’m never going to find someone else.”

“Kevin, I can’t pick up and run off with you,” You say, repeating the same thing you did a few months ago, “Just not right now.”

“Philly is barely three hours away,” Kevin counters, “I’m willing to do it if you are, because I can’t walk out of here without trying.”

You finally place your lips on his, soft and slow at first. But when your hands found the back of Kevin’s neck, playing with the hair that was starting to curl, you could feel him grunt into your mouth and you smiled against his lips because you knew it drove him crazy. That was the point, you knew everything about him because he was yours, and you were his.

[gautierprotectionsquad]

Reading cemetery boys (finally)

Major spoilers. I highly recommend reading the book

The main character is a trans poc which i did not know. In fact, i went into this knowing nothing other than queer and fantasy. I think i forgot every single time i’ve been told he is trans. Oh he’s gay too. I thought he was going to be bi. His family doesn’t accept him. Except for Maritza. His...cousin? I like how stressful this is almost right off the bat. I want him to get the boy powers and be recognized as a boy by his goddess. But he might be rejected or be given the rosary powers instead (seen as a girl). His mom was supportive. I’m going to stop typing since I feel I’m just going to be typing what is happening and what i’m learning as i’m learning it instead of my thoughts on it.

Would people be able to tell just from looking at him that he did the ritual or would he have to show his powers first? How accepting is his family? He didn’t get to have his ritual and he mentioned them not recognizing him as a man and feeling like the black sheep for being trans and them being “fine with him being gay bc they saw it as him being het do to not seeing him as a man” but they call him by his correct name.

I’m still feeling that fear from earlier bc his family doesn’t know what he did yet. It feels like he’s going to tell them what he did which i dont think is a smart move.

His goddess always recognized him for who he was. When he tried using healing powers, it didn’t work and hurt the poor kitty worse. Why would his family ever think doing the rosary ritual would work?

He has other outsiders in his family as allies. Maritza, who is vegan and refuses to use her healing powers bc it requires using animal blood, his uncle who barely has any usable magic.

Instead of stating the deadname it just said “deadname slipped from her mouth”. That’s good. I don’t want to learn the deadname. I much prefer when it is censored.

YAY! He can summon spirits!

Oh no he can’t return him. I mean not really oh no bc i like julien but oh no it makes my boy sad.

I ship it but don’t know how it would work.

Julien and miguel died really close in time. Were they killed by the same person?

How long does it take for julien to find out he’s trans? Is he going to pity him or get angry for him? He’s going to find out relatively quick since he’s going home with him. I hope he doesn’t get all awkward about it.

Oh. it’s even worse. He didn’t even recognize yads as a boy. He misgendered him just now. Damn. i know Yads doesn’t technically pass well yet bc he’s only 16 and isn’t on T but ouch.

Is Julien gay? Bi? Does he know if he’s bi? He’s certainly got adhd.

Oh. Yadreil tells him himself. Thought he would find out by overhearing his family say something wrong.

Ew high school.

Ah! He’s gay. Why’d he ask if him being gay is a problem like this boy isn’t trans? This is so awkward.

Awww. did he change it so it said the correct name/block out the deadname?? HE DID!

I like julien’s friends. That meeting with his friends went really shitty.

Julien and miguel are going to be sacrificed? Hopefully yads puts the same pieces together that i did.

Julien is an unapologetic queer. On MY level. He’s trying to get Yads on that level of punk queerness. I understand where yads is coming from though. He loves his family. He wants them to accept him fully. Their rejection matters to him and he can’t brush it off so easily and force himself not to care or even care less. His magic is his birthright, his culture.

Oh his mom was definitely the one that healed luca.

I think Maritza is going to find a way to use her magic without needing blood. Maybe she can bring julien back to life? She and Yads can be a sign of change, not just change, growth. Rebirth. Julien thinks there must have been trans brujx before. Maybe they are losing their magical flow due to being stuck in rigid tradition that might not have always been there.

I like tio catriz but i’m worried he’s the villain who summoned the jaguar for power. I really don’t want him to be but who could the villain be. It would make sense for us to have met them and for them to have access to the jaguar.

The deadline is so close.

Julien: don’t tell anyone i’m dead

Julien: does some poltergeist shit that makes it obvious he’s a ghost.

The more i think about it, the more the uncle makes sense. Maybe miguel isn’t a sacrifice but he caught his uncle in the act. That would explain why there were 3 missing kids on top of julien and miguel.

It’s taking him too long to connect the dots. Might not do it till it’s too late.

I hoped that Yads would have been able to sether the tie with his dad as witness. Instead his dad did it. His dad still saw it glow though.

Gay goth witch.

“He didn’t turn at the sound of the apartment door banging open” oh my god.

¿Me dejas robarte un beso? Will you let me steal a kiss?

Julien is still alive! Bc of the sacrifice thingy.

I was right. About everything.

Where is Matriza?

Chapter 24; we’re in julien’s pov.

Mi querido!!!!!!! My dear my beloved my darling my love!!!

FINISHED.

I wish we got more of Julien’s friends and Rio in this book.

[mattzerella-sticks]

Heart in My Hand (15x18 “Despair” coda, Dean-centric, Destiel. post-that scene)

(ao3 link)

He was right there.

Cas was telling Dean everything he ever wanted to hear since meeting the angel of the Lord... only each and every word of his confession stabbed at Dean's heart. Because once he finished, there's no more time for them. For him. For any chance of happiness - all that taken away by the Empty. And now he has to carry on.

He tries. Stands, gets in his car and drives where Sam tells him. When he meets with the others, though...

           Dean spots them easily, only two people left on the planet besides himself. Standing in the middle of the street, waiting. He rolls to a stop near some crashed truck and an abandoned bag of groceries that spills out the top. Egg yolks oozing into a small puddle, mixing with freely leaking juice burning bright against dark asphalt. Visible even from where he sits inside his car.

           With Sam and Jack advancing, Dean crams the rest of his emotions down. Puts on a brave face. What he sees in his rearview isn’t anything like that. Trembling lips. Red, blotchy skin. Wide eyes that look more haunted than an average, Midwestern home. It’s better than how he appeared earlier. And since they’re already here, he must move on. Steeling himself, he exits his car.

           “Dean,” Jack starts, glancing from him to his empty car, “Where’s Cas?”

           Dean fails, again. “Cas…” He croaks, words blocked by the boulder that wedged into his throat once that black portal of despair vanished. Water traces familiar pathways down his cheeks, Dean steadying himself on his open door. Hisses panicked breaths through clenched teeth. “Cas, he…”

           “Oh.” Sam stumbles backwards, news dealing its own damage. Jack stares at Dean, jaw hanging limply. Gaze wet from threatening tears. “Was it…” his brother coughs, regaining his footing, “was it Billie?”

           He shakes his head, still not ready to speak. Voice abandoning him like… well.

           “Chuck?” Jack asks, inching closer. “Did Chuck make him crumble, too?”

           Dean nearly forgot. Chuck… if only. His anger would have a target, instead of hanging around him as if it were a fog. Miasma thick he cannot see past a never-ending reel of those few, long minutes. Cas’s parting message replaying ad nauseum. “No,” he manages, staring at Baby’s roof. “No, he – he sacrificed… to take out… to save…” Gasping, Dean lolls his head upwards. Staring up at an empty sky, sending what’s left of his sentence into the heavens.

           Someone approaches, lays a hand on his elbow. There because it hovered over Dean’s shoulder and chose a different path. Dean felt how close it came to fitting over his angel’s mark. Heard a sharp intake of breath after they noticed it, confirming Dean’s suspicion. “Dean,” Sam says – of course it’d be him. He recognizes his little brother’s voice. Especially when he forces confidence through his tone. It lacks, however, as an undercurrent of worry threaded through it. “Dean,” he continues, “what happened?”

           First, he searches for Jack. The younger boy leans across from Dean, waiting. Curious. Heartbroken. “He,” Dean whispers, knees buckling under him, “Billie was out for blood and – and we couldn’t stop her on our own. So Cas, he…” Sam’s grip tightens on his elbow, adds another supportive touch to Dean’s armpit. Keeps him standing. Dean thanks Sam by letting his hands stay. “We were dead to rights. So Cas… let himself be happy.”

           Jack’s muttered curse resolves a lingering question, whether he knew. Doubly confirmed since Jack draws further attention to himself, slamming his fist on Baby’s roof. Dean doesn’t raise his usual objections. “The Empty,” he says.

           “The Empty?” Sam glances between Jack and Dean, “What would… why would the Empty be there? When Cas is happy – what are you talking about?”

           “A deal Sammy,” Dean says. Louder, rougher. Shattering the eerie silence of this deserted city scape. “He made a deal with that damned thing, his life for… for…”

           “For mine.” Jack tilts his head, brows drawn in such a mirror of his father Dean nearly collapses where he stood. He remains strong. “When I was in Heaven, after I… I died, the first time.” Sighing, he stretches towards them. Extending an empty palm in a gesture of regret. “I’m… I’m so sorry –“

           “No.” Dean slides his own hand, taking Jack’s. Squeezes it. Grounding himself further. “I don’t… it’s not your fault. Cas made the deal. He – he’s made his choice. It’s… if he had the chance to go back, he’d still do it. Again and again. That’s who he is.” Dean hiccups, face cracking as his mouth stretches wide, gracing the others with a rueful smile. “Putting everyone’s needs before himself even if it… even if it meant he could never…” He shudders, Cas’s peaceful expression when the Empty struck frozen in his mind. “Too good, Cas was – he was too good –“

           “Dean, Dean!” Sam tore Dean away from Jack and Baby, carrying him off to sit on the sidewalk’s curb. Bent him, head between knees, helping him work past growing hysterics. Jack followed them, hovering. Shadow blocking the sun from shining above, casting him in darkness. Thinking this makes Dean spiral further. “Breathe Dean, just breathe.”

           It’s stupid. Dean wastes valuable time, their world crumbling all around them. And what is he doing? Crying. Making Sam and Jack comfort him because Dean lost the shovel he usually buries his feelings with. Empty probably taking that, too. It’s stupid. Maddening. Also, completely unavoidable.

           Dean wondered if, one day, he might shatter so completely gathering those pieces might prove impossible. He has his answer, at the worst possible moment.

           Soon he calms, and Dean can lift his head without flashing back there.

           “Dean…” Sam starts, cautiously. Treating Dean too carefully given how far into this war they’re in. “Dean, Cas’s deal… the Empty wanted him happy?” Nodding, Dean waits for the next question. Dreading it. “What… what did he do?”

           Sam hadn’t broken down, when they found Eileen’s duffel – and her phone. Recovered best he could and shouldered his pain. Allowed those seconds of grief, then used it as fuel. Whereas Dean drags his suffering into eternity. Mourns his best friend, and their lost potential. A stolen future. Years spent in denial. If he’d taken a chance earlier… at some point. “Cas,” Dean sighs, “he let himself… he confessed…” Explaining it was too difficult, but Sam needed to know. Jack, too. “He loved me, Sam.” Laughing, Dean wipes at his eyes. “He loved me, after all I – he still… he loved me, and that killed him.” Whispering, he repeats, “He loved me.”

           Sam’s features shifted, journeying from shock to a pitying understanding. Rubs comfortingly at his back, sighing. “Loving you was what made him happiest?”

           “Yeah… it was, it was so simple…” Dean uncurls, teetering, flirting with the idea of lying on his back. He and Jack trade a fleeting glance, Dean checking his reaction. Not surprised in the slightest. Kid’s too damned insightful. “Just admitting it was enough and… and you know what he said? He said he… Cas believed it was something he could never have?” His chest tightens, and Dean scoffs. “I don’t… how could that be – how could loving me be, I’m… how can I be Cas’s happiness? Out of all he could have had, and what he wanted was me – what I… what I thought I could never have.”

           “Don’t say that Dean,” Sam admonishes, “you are worthy of having love.”

           Shrugging, Dean turns from his and Jack’s heavy stares. Looks at the pooling egg yolk again; focuses on that spreading mess. “Cas said about as much, before the Empty… had this whole speech that I – it felt like I was being peeled away. Called me out for… it all feels so meaningless. Is that what it felt like, with Eileen? Being with someone who can see through you and make all this big stuff seem – well, seem not so big anymore?” Sam agrees, as much. “There we were Billie hot on our heels. Waiting for death, and he spits out the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. I almost forgot what was going on. It was just him and me… him seeing – seeing me. And you know what I did? Not a goddamn thing…”

           “Dean…”

           “I could barely speak, I – I was so scared,” Dean admits, “if you’d’ve been there Sam, the look of – look of finality that was there, alongside the love, and peace, and happiness. I always wanted to hear him say that, couldn’t predict him saying all of that… I would’ve traded it if it meant he’d stay. And I can – I get to have him in the only way we could. But he made up his mind, like with Jack. Took Billie down, and him, too. Leaving me there – alone – that it… when I finally said it back, I was too late.”

           They echoed. Hung in the air. Mingled with Cas’s blood on his sleeve and the fresh tears pouring out of him. Shook Dean down to the very core of his being, barely hearing it past the low pitch of static filling his ears. Dean thought those words innumerably before, imagined different scenarios, played pretend in the comfort of his room where no one can see.

           No one ever will, now.

           “I…” Dean tries saying his truth. It doesn’t want to come out. He continues regardless, “I miss him, Sam. Why do we do this? Hurt everyone we’ve ever cared about? Hell, the whole world’s collateral damage because of us!” Exhausted, Dean gives in. Falls fully off the cliff, lying on the sidewalk. Arms spread beside him while he watches endless blue.

           Sam squeezes his knee, “I miss her too. I miss them all.” He stands, adding another shadow. Jack’s advancing, too. Blanketing Dean in a strange temperature. Not cold, still there’s an absence of warmth he notes. “But it’s not on us. It’s Chuck. Always has been…”

           “Then is this it?” Dean asks, “One last play, even if it kills us? Even if it can’t bring everyone back?”            

           “At least we died fighting, then.”

           Dean cannot argue with this. He doesn’t feel too inclined to move yet. “For them,” he says, closing his eyes. “This isn’t about us, anymore. It’s about all of them. The world… our family… Eileen and – and Cas.”

           Their shadows move. He senses them leave, sunlight returning. Bringing with it more memories. Of how it felt first hearing Cas say it. A natural glow that lit from within. Snuffed in Cas’s next breath, as Billie’s fist pounded on the door, and when the bitterness of Cas’s declaration hit his tastebuds. Dean grasps for that feeling, basking under the sun. Pretends it’s Cas giving him that gorgeous, soul-shattering smile. Encouraging him into his final battle. Telling him it’ll be over soon, he’ll be done, and that he loves him.

           He loves him. He loves him. He loves him.

           “I love you Cas.”

           Dean will rise. Gather what little he, Sam, and Jack have and rush at Chuck until there truly is nothing left. Of this world. Or of them. But that’s later.

           Right now, Dean dreams of his losses. Apologizes, one by one, faces blurring together as he starts counting strangers his mind saved for no purpose other than to make him carry more crosses.  Never his, though.

           Cas’s face shines uninterrupted, clearly, like the sun. There even as everything else fades. In the safety of his mind, where the Empty can’t steal him. In the safety of his heart, that Chuck can’t control. In his hands, wearing Cas’s blood like a badge of honor and pride.

           And love.

[uwua3]

Hello! I'm a new follower and I just love your writing so far!! You're really good at depicting The Whole Scene™ so you made me love my favs even more 😳 It's like my heart melts when I get to the extra soft parts 💖 If it's alright, may I request some fluffy hcs of Banri and/or Juza with a soft/baby-ish s/o who likes cute things? Or in general an s/o who's kind of opposite to either of them 👉🏻👈🏻 Thank you! 💞

hi!!! welcome to my writing blog~ :D i’m so happy you said that 🥺 (i appreciate the trademark no Suing in this household) i’m so glad when it gets soft it makes your heart go 💕💞💓💗💖💘💝 always feel like that!!! i’d be more than honored to baby the two tough boys of autumn~ they are secretly Baby no i do not take criticism but you’re welcome!!!

summary: this is the one time major misunderstandings work out for the best

warnings: swearing

author’s note: hello, everyone~ it’s been 4 days since i last posted a fic TT i’m so sorry!!! i hope this makes up for the absence~ it’s a bit long! please love banri and juza with all your heart ♡ fair warning, i design both readers to have dresses on but everything else is gender–neutral :D

word count: 6,482 (total) — 3,532 (banri), 2,950 (juza)

music: liar liar – oh my girl (banri), just right – got7 (juza)

sugar, spice, and everything nice!

🍁🥇 settsu banri

banri was thrifting and saw the most god–awful, terrible piece of clothing he had ever had the misfortune of seeing in his life

it was a bublegum pink sailor uniform esque shirt, embellished with the most pastel ribbons and lacy accessories ever, and was decorated to put harajuku to shame

“who the hell would want to buy this shit?” banri muttered to himself, holding it up to grimance at the girly details that hang from the ugliest shirt he had ever came across. before he could put it back to hide amongst the clothing rack, a gentle, barely noticeable tap on his shoulder made banri turn his head with a glare

“what—” banri’s eyes widened, his jaw slightly dropping. oh my god, if there was a human embodiment of the fucking shirt he was holding, you would literally be it

you were nervously smiling at him, clad in a pastel pink lolita–styled dress, with even more bows at the corset bodice and ruffles at your poofy skirt. you had the largest singular lace bonnet in your curled hair and adorned the biggest, widest circular glasses (they had to be fake). you clasped your hands together with a high–pitched laugh, banri wanted to disappear and never come back to the store again

how could people like you just exist? you walked around like a doll everyday and for what? banri looked down at his clothing for a second, all black again. maybe, he shouldn’t be talking if he was like death everyday...

“sorry~ but are you interested in that shirt?” you asked cutely, batting your eyelashes as you looked up at banri. he blinked, not realizing he was still holding the fashion industry’s worst abonimation as he quickly tossed it towards you, not bothering to check if you even caught it

“no, bye.” banri forced out, moving from the aisle to leave the godforsaken pastels and bright colors. it was all giving him a headache, there was no way this color spectrum ever existed to someone and they liked it. everybody move over because banri was gonna puke

banri flipped through more clothes, pushing through the racks with ease, trying to push the mental image of pink out of his mind until something landed on his head

quickly pulling it off with a scowl, banri deadpanned at the shirt. pink, sailor uniform, ugly ribbons and bows, check. it was that shirt again... what the—

you stood next to him, with the most angelic smile possible despite the passive aggressive look in your eyes. banri noticed your hair was slightly messed up, that he must’ve done something. he never thought he’d fight a pastel lolita in the middle of one of his favorite thrift stores, but here he was, glaring down at you like it was a big deal

“what do you want?!” banri cursed, about to throw the shirt back to you before you forced it in his hands, surprising him with the amount of force your short self managed to produce. you smiled even bigger, and banri suddenly knew he couldn’t cause a scene because no one believe him if you started a fight

“let me pick your clothes!” you offered, yet there was no room for disagreement. oh god, this was revenge for screwing up your look, wasn’t it? banri blanked again, about to tell you to fuck off before he called security (yeah, security on the most non–threatening person here), before you shoved another outfit into his arms

“go change! i want to see you in it!” you insisted, banri’s eye twitched as he took in the colors. all various shades of pink... you did know there were other colors right?

maybe it was because he knew you would start a scene if he didn’t try, but banri mumbled something about annoying people and their loud fashion sense before slipping into a dressing room. you clapped when banri begrudgingly agreed to it, pissing him off even more

(you didn’t know why you were forcing this stranger to be pastel for once. one look at his all–black attire and you felt a part of your soul die for a second)

when you heard the most dragged–out, emphasized swear behind the door, you knew you had to see it

“are you okay in there~?” you asked, waiting patiently outside with a devious smile. revenge was sweet, you almost forgot about how that shirt had messed up your hairstyle for the day

(banri suddenly regretted ever messing with you, you were the devil in pink)

“i know we just met, but fuck you.” banri deadpanned, stepping out from behind the curtain with the resignation of a quitter. you threw your hands over your mouth, stifling your snickers as you observed him top to bottom, wondering how you even fathomed such a creation

banri stood before you in the same sailor shirt, ribbons and bows alike, that somehow fit him. you had given him basic pink shorts that clased with his giant black boots (he made a stomping sound whenever he walked)

“i hate this, i am never wearing this again.” banri admitted without difficulty, expecting you to go away so he could shop in peace but you giggled, nodding in satisfaction at your mistake. he couldn’t believe it, he was embarrassing himself and sacrificing his dignity just because some moral conscious was aware he probably ruined part of your fit

“i’ll buy it for you!” you said and banri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing with so much exhaustion even though it was the afternoon. is this how sakyo felt dealing with three kids all day? banri was this close to calling him up just to apologize for all the batshit crazy things he’s done

“no.” banri stated, not offering an explanation before turning around, about to head back into the dressing room before you stopped him, pouting your lips with a stubborn look

“come on! why not? i’ll do anything!” you pleaded, giving him your biggest puppy dog eyes as you kept repeating “please~” loudly. banri was about to tell you off before he noticed the store customers glancing at the odd duo, groaning before he rubbed his face

“anything?” banri asked, realizing his mischevious smirk was back on his face as you narrowed your eyes at him, wondering what the hell he was planning

when you hesitantly nodded, banri wolfishly grinned as he leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms and looking down at you (you would’ve burst into laughter at how banri tried to look intimidating in pink if you weren’t too plagued by your surprise at his sudden attitude change)

“okay, let me pick your next outfit.” banri said and you winced at the memory of his previous outfit, considering your options before shaking his hand, knowing whatever was about to happen would be one for your social media

it only took about two hours before you actually agreed to try anything on banri picked. it was all animal print, mismatched neon colors, and flannel. you refused every single time he held anything up, bruising banri’s ego even further

“jesus, you have no taste.” banri complained, just wanting to see the most pastel person he’s seen wear something normal for once. you two bickered easily, fighting like there was no tomorrow and warranting nervous glances from the store employees (who nearly alerted security when they saw you almost knock over a whole display chasing after banri)

finally, banri chose something you wouldn’t be caught dead in. it was close to what he had before, a black turtleneck with a silver–zip bomber jacket. he was nice enough to choose a black pleated skirt for you to wear with black oxford that had 3d white daisies

you actually liked it, believe it or not

in return, you adjusted your pick for him (much to banri’s relief when he muttered “thank god” as you put the pink sailor shirt back). you adjusted the theme to be a mixture of black & pink, picking a pink sweater with a black stitched heart surrounded by lace that read “i’ll kill you” and a pink button down underneath. you let him wear basic black pants (just so he wouldn’t have actually killed you) and found the cutest pink sneakers with black shoelaces!

by the time both of you finished, banri didn’t seem as mad and actually nodded at your choices

“not bad, punk.” banri joked as you swatted at his arm, ignoring the way he rolled his eyes at your antics. you two made your way into opposite changing rooms and went out at the same time, staring at each other wide–eyed for about three seconds before banri pushed his finger in the center of your forehead with a smirk

“see! you don’t look as bad now.” banri winked as you nearly kicked him, rubbing your forehead with a frown. you two fought all the way to the cash register, paying for each other’s new outfits as you wore them out the door, holding your originals in a bag

“happy now? gotta go or else my friends are gonna kill me.” banri rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pant pockets as he was about to go the opposite way. you grabbed his sleeve, impatiently shoving your phone in his face as he adjusted to seeing his own pissed off expression stare back at him

“you have to take a picture with me!” you insisted, your bubbly demeanor really not fitting your “goth” approach (courtesy of banri, of course)

banri glared, knowing this wasn’t apart of the deal before you feigned sadness, wrapping your arms around yourself as you looked around like it was really unfortunate

“oh... are you not photogenic? that’s too bad...” you mocked him, pretending to not notice banri’s fists clench as he furrowed his eyebrows. of course he was good at taking photos! he’d show you, alright

“give me your phone.” banri demanded, taking it without a warning and holding it at a distance with an effortlessly cool pose, doing his usual smirk with a casual peace sign

“say ‘worst day ever’.” banri snapped the picture when you got into frame, putting your chin on his shoulder due to your height difference as you smiled cutely, contrasting his entire vibe

when you actually went through the selfies, they were perfect. damn it! of course he was good at everything, including somehow making black look good on you and be the ultimate photographer

“let me tag you, these are actually...” you were about to say something else until you noticed he was walking away, not bothering to say goodbye as you called his name

“yo, banri! what’s your instagram handle?” you yelled, holding your phone up. banri didn’t even look behind him, just throwing up a single middle finger towards you as he turned the corner. what a typical teenage boy

it was so like him, you didn’t even bother chasing after banri as you posted the set of photos you took with him with the caption “worst day ever with this emo punk, someone find him for me”

when banri made it the dorms, he took out his phone for the first time in forever and felt the vibrations. he never got this many notifications, itaru was probably telling him to get online or he’d beat his ass—oh

oh, you didn’t

kazunari (of course it was him) had tagged him in a familiar picture, with too many emoticons and exclamation points to begin with. banri scrolled through the comments, all complimenting his cool face despite being in pink (banri already knew that) and... wait... shipping you two?!

you two were completely different! if you two stood next to each other, you’d be two opposite ends of any spectrum possible. yet, banri couldn’t help but read all the comments on your post, saying how you two looked good together

banri zoomed in on the photo and moved to your face and huh... maybe they were onto something...

banri clicked on your profile and as expected, it was all soft like sanrio personally made it. you were an angel in each of your pictures, posing with stuffed animals, pastel café sweets, and anything that looked like it came out of a kid’s show. banri was scrolling mindlessly, screenshotting some as he slouched on the sofa, exhaling sharply through his nose at some childish pun you had in your captions

when banri was near the beginning of your feed, it had happened. he accidentally tapped too fast (blame it on his gamer hands), liking your picture from years ago

banri paused. after a minute, banri slowly unliked your picture, shut the app, and threw his phone across the room. it landed on the other couch with a thump as banri slid down the seat with the loudest groan ever, covering his face as he refrained from screaming

that’s what he got for stalking your entire fashion page despite hating your style

the damage had been done. you followed him and instantly dm–ed him with the full, unedited selfies of you two

(banri didn’t follow back until like, a month later for no reason other than he was petty)

banri became your immediate go–to fashion guru, believe it or not. moving past his horrific sense of animal print, he actually wasn’t that bad at picking clothes (banri said it was something about growing up with an older sister)

whenever you needed advice on an outfit, you sent him a text and got a response within minutes (the more he hated it, the more you wore it). any time you went to another up and coming clothing store, he was by your side (unwillingly holding your bags with multiple threats). banri even took your pics for your page, pretending like it was a huge nuisance whenever you asked anyone to take a photo (they always came out awful and he claimed he was tired of hearing you whine 24/7)

you and banri’s interest in fashion was the foundation of a competitive and sarcastic friendship that formed between you two. you exaggerated your pink clothes by making sure to be as pastel as possible whenever you hung out with him, and banri made a point to be all–black and dark down to his silver earrings despite the weather

you posted him more and more on your socials despite his style clashing with your feed. your followers seemed to love him, hyping up his coolness even if you two bullied each other in the comments like an old married couple. it was becoming expected to see banri’s account tagged every time you gave him credit for the post (he always used it against you just to make you mad)

over time, when banri went to see you, he didn’t insult your style anymore even if he tried to (his insults were even half–assed). he took your bags on his own accord and acted like they didn’t weigh a thing. he started taking more photos of you on his own phone, like it wasn’t a big deal he had shocks of pastel throughout his rather dark camera roll

banri didn’t know when it happened, but the moment he looked at the pink sweater you bought him the first time he met you and didn’t react, he knew

oh shit, he didn’t hate pink (or you) anymore. he might have even... liked it

(he might have even liked you)

it was nearly closing time, the employee about to close up shop before banri was seen sprinting towards them, barely out of breath as he skidded to a stop near the concerned worker (understandably so, since it was dark and a whole teenager nearly trampled them)

“oh? banri? what are you doing so late?” the employee recognized the regular customer and banri almost threw up at what he was about to request. he took a moment to compose himself before banri sighed, gesturing towards inside the store

“you remember that really ugly pink sailor shirt that is probably a fashion crime?” banri asked and it didn’t take long before the worker nodded, even grimancing at the memory of such a loud shirt

“yes, no one is really willing to buy it—” the employee was interrupted by a wad of money from inside banri’s wallet as he went through it, wincing at his own purchase that he clearly didn’t want

“i’ll take it. keep the change.” banri went home that day with the same pink shirt he swore he would never wear again

the next day, banri was dressed and the whole dorm went silent. no one dared breathe a word, and banri rolled his eyes, crossing his arms

“what’s wrong? never seen a man wear pink before?” banri raised his eyebrows, casually getting ready to go see you with his backpack strapped. once again, everyone was staring at him (when he left the dorms, the room burst into hysterical laughter)

when you saw banri in that shirt, you suddenly knew. it was as if his behavior made sense, this is way of telling you he didn’t hate you as much as he acted to

as he came up to you pretending like he was still cool in the most pastel pink shirt ever, you couldn’t help but grab him by the sailor collar and give him something long overdue

(the whole mankai company spammed your page with fairy cyberbully comments and likes when you posted a picture of banri in the sailor shirt with the caption: “best boyfriend ever”)

(you ended up keeping the sailor shirt, banri claimed it suited you a lot more than it did for him) (damn, not even one insult about how ugly it was when you expressed how much you loved it)

ever since, your feed became more of punk pastel than anything. anything you wore, banri most likely had in black. you two even shared jewelery and banri often mixed up your earrings with his own (you loved his piercings and often bought the most intricate ear cuffs just to see them on him)

despite your opposite styles, you guys actually shared many of your items together like clothes, accessories like bucket hats and backpacks, even make up! (it took quite some time before banri accepted you painting his nails though, at first it was black, now he allows the occassional pink middle finger if you ask)

(banri liked it the most when you two had matching nails, it was just satisfying to see when holding hands)

you guys were also that gamer couple. you know what i’m talking about, if you guys had a gaming room together, half the room would be pastel pink and his set up was a basic all black

(you two had matching cat headphone sets, yours obviously the pink ones and banri pretended to hate his own pair of ears)

(they really weren’t that bad, he even began wearing it around his boys despite the jokes)

(“shut up, bastard! my partner likes them!”)

as expected, you two got stares every time you went out in public. while you were bright and happy from the anime sparkles around you to your adorable, enthusiatic energy, banri was always by you looming over everyone with a sharp glare and even more aggressive tongue

but this was unexpected: you had banri whipped. wrapped around your finger, even if he would never admit it

(he could go one moment cursing someone out, threatening a fight before he talked to you with a quieter, more relaxed tone. of course he could start shit with you, but for some reason, his voice and demeanor automatically became nicer when he saw you)

(this meant he could never stay mad at you for too long)

an example of banri being absolutely soft for you would be the time you were about to dye your hair and he wanted in

while he was helping you equally do the style and making sure it fit your liking, you giggled at the sight of your boyfriend in the mirror, focusing intently on your hair and the two seperate dyes

“ri, have you ever thought of black hair?” you asked nonchalantly as banri brushed the dye on your hair, giving him a moment to think as he shrugged

“eh, i already dye my hair. never thought about that color.” banri responded, already too busy making sure your hair was completely covered (he was a good hair stylist even if he had never done it before)

“what do you think about matching hairstyles?”

it felt like deja vu. when banri walked into the dorms again, everyone was staring at him. except this time, it wasn’t his sweater (he was back to all–black this time), but his head

oh my god, his hair. his vibrant, half–pink and half–black hair now

“you like that person so much! you dyed your hair that shade of pink?!” practically everyone in mankai was aware banri was whipped for his one and only angel, even if it looked like he came out of hell himself just to be with you

whenever banri saw pink now, he didn’t hate it anymore, and he especially didn’t hate you

🍁🍰 hyodo juza

when juza saw you, he felt like he was on a sugar rush from how cute you were

it was another day helping the director with her grocery shopping and an extra amount of time allowed the two to visit the new bakery that opened downtown

while izumi was making small talk with the server, juza awkwardly hung behind her as he tried to not make it obvious he just wanted to eat every single dessert in the family business

as he was counting the tiles on the floor (how did they design them to look like it was made out of candy?!), a swish of a puffy skirt moved past his line of sight as juza glanced up, feeling like he had downed a whole box of those valentine’s candy hearts at once

you were a waitress, happily bringing customer orders to their tables with the cutest smile ever. you wore a mint green & brown uniform with a big bow at your dress shirt collar, floating around like a fairy with a trey at your hand and gracefully taking requests in the other. if “you are what you eat” was true, you would’ve only ate sweet foods because you were that adorable

then, juza noticed you had some really nice hair clips and thought they were super cute

when you looked up from writing something on your notepad (he noticed it was really elegant cursive), you caught his eye and it was like love at first sight for juza

for you, not so much

you had made eye contact with the most intimidating, tallest boy in the entire bakery. you nervously smiled, waving before hurrying into the kitchen, feeling his stare on your back as you hid in the break room with a sigh of relief

just your luck! you had met some guy who probably didn’t even like sweets, he looked like he wanted to fight you or something! why was he staring at you like that? you anxiously peeked your head from the door frame and went back immediately when you noticed he was looking for you

oh no, was some thug trying to fight you? in a bakery?

when izumi finished up her conversation and bought a speciality cake to go, juza obediently followed her outside as he glanced back behind the counter, trying to spot your unique hair accessories again

as the bell above his head rung, he knew he had to come back to see you and find out where you bought those dessert–themed clips

at first, it began with casual visits, pretending to survey the area after explaining his association with mankai in the most bare minimum way possible. you didn’t struggle convincing someone else to cover your shift quickly when you noticed the scary tall guy up front. then, it became ordering random things to go and hoping he’d at least see you to ask a simple question. you did everything to hide behind tables, hoping you wouldn’t have to confront the gangster

(“he’s back again?! how many more desserts can he order?” you whined, poking your eyes over the front desk to see his frame entering past the window)

for some reason, juza couldn’t stop thinking of your hair clips. they were sweets, for goodness sake! nothing had made him happier, they were so tiny and adorable, they brought him instant serotonin even if he had some tough image

(maybe you were also super cute too, and he just needed an excuse to see you)

after weeks or so of failed attempts to catch you working, juza began sitting down and eating in the bakery, much to your misfortune

“how can i avoid him now if he spends a hour here every afternoon?!” you panicked even though juza’s back was turned to you. he happily ate his food, getting distracted by the quality of the sweets to notice you were basically staring at him

“are you sure he wants something from you? he comes here every day, he seems like a nice boy.” the owner vouched in his favor after talking to the offstandish teen at the register. sure, he was a bit rough around the edges, but he was much more respectful than any of the rotten kids who came in the shop!

ugh! the baker didn’t get it, there was no way someone like that didn’t want to start something with you!

out in the dining area, it took all the sugar in his body to actually make juza ask for a very specific server in detail. when someone had brought him his strawberry milk, juza cleared his throat with an awkward attempt at a smile (it looked more like a grimance than anything)

“uh... do you know if, a server with candy hair pins is here?” juza murmured, looking down at the table with an embarrassed blush as the waiter didn’t think anything of it, calling your name without another warning. you squeaked, dropping behind the counter as juza tilted his head in confusion

(why were you hiding? was there something wrong? what happened? juza thought, unaware he was actually the problem)

when you heard a series of footsteps stop near you, you hesitantly looked up from your crouching position and saw juza staring down at you with a concerned expression. his eyebrows were furrowed and he had his hand out

you took his hand and closed your eyes, fearing for your life. was he gonna yank you to your feet? push you over? trip you so you’d fall for real? you weren’t ready for a fight!

yet, none of that happened. juza gently lifted you up and made sure you were fine by observing your outfit to see if anything was wrinkled, muttering something about being careful and staying safe

you blinked, trying to process how incredibly wrong you were. juza was perhaps the nicest customer you had met in your entire career as a server, even taking the time to actually confirm you were okay with no ill intentions whatsoever

(suddenly, you remembered all the times you actively avoided juza and felt the guilt as he nodded at you, unintentionally lowering his height so he’d seem more approachable)

“sorry to bother you, but uh...” juza trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase his next sentence. before you could respond, his hand landed on your hair and a beat of silence passed between you two

“cute.” juza forced out, and wanted to slap himself. cute?! no, say cute hair clips, ask where you got them! juza was internally panicking and you were doing the same as you looked up at him with wide eyes

it was so awkward and humiliating, juza couldn’t pull his hand away because his whole body was on shutdown. oh god, what could he do now? this was possibly the worst first impression in human history

“i’m cute?” you warily asked, staring at him with a slightly amused expression as juza blanked. you felt his hand subtly shake as it was your turn to be concerned over how red his face was

“no—i mean, yes, but, not like that! i mean...” juza finally lifted his fingers to poke at your hair decorations and you let out a sound of understanding, pointing at your own clips

“oh? you mean these?” you asked and juza nodded, like he was extremely thankful you understood him. he pushed his hands behind his back, nervously leaning back and forth on his feet as he looked away like the cupcake display was the most interesting thing in the world (it probably was)

“where did you, uh, get them?” juza quietly questioned and you giggled, patting them proudly as you stood a little bit taller from the unintentional praise

“i made them! thank you for asking!” you smiled, about to move away before juza accidentally held onto your arm, releasing his hold when he saw your shock. he definitely needed to learn how to be more socially acceptable one of these days or else he was gonna get in big trouble

“can i commission you?” juza muttered and there began your friendship with the big tough delinquent juza who really adored small, cute things (like yourself!)

any time juza was particularly fascinated with a dessert on display, you would show him a sketch sample of accessories you could make based on his favorites. surprisingly, juza was very comfortable with expressing his love for sugar because you felt the same way!

every day when juza came to visit the bakery, he’d always have something new to say about your homemade accessories and seemed fascinated by your adorable fashion sense

(he had been particularly obsessed with these dangly earrings you made that looked like little dango sticks. it was like a child had been playing with your ears the entire time)

it was about a month later when you made the final designs of the hair clips juza ordered and you knew they were your best work yet

you had multiple favorite desserts and fruits of his molded in clay or shaped in resin on a various sizes of clips and pins. you decorated them with the sole goal in mind to see how pretty they would look against juza’s dark purple hair

this would be the first time you two met out of the bakery, so when juza came and saw you didn’t look any different (hair accessories and all), he thought you were so sweet

juza’s entire face practically lit up when you presented him the clips. foods like ice creams, lollipops, and popsicles were all accessible for him as he struggled to find the words to show his appreciation for your work

you two sat on a bench in the park as juza gently took the clips, turning them carefully (you looked down and almost laughed at how tiny they looked in his hands)

when you asked for a model picture for your business page, juza’s shaky hands were clearly untrained in the art of hair clips as he put one in an awkward position and tried to look up to see what it looked like

“uh... i’m not very good at this.” juza admitted, embarrassed as he stared at his feet. it didn’t take you long to take over, moving closer to giddily pin juza’s hair back

(it was soft, you were almost jealous of how everything about him was the embodiment of “gentle giant”)

“it’s okay! here, let me.” you insisted and juza gratefully passed you your work, staring at everything but you as his cheeks became even redder. you were so close and leaning over him, trying to put them in cute positions as your fingers ran through his hair

(juza felt like the first time he saw you; like he was on a sugar rush as he noticed how nimble your fingers were on him)

when you were done and leaned back with admiration, juza looked at you with a small smile as he reached up to touch the designs you put in his hair, feeling the handmade pins against his calloused fingers

“cute~” you lifted your phone up, about to take a picture. juza didn’t know why, but he covered the camera with his palm as he lowered it, looking at you with the same focus he had everytime he saw you

“you’re cute.” juza froze. oh gosh, did he actually just confess that?! you were surprised, feeling his hand over yours. yet, you didn’t want to pull away. in fact, you wish your phone was out of the way so you could completely hold his hand

“you’re cute, too.” you responded, using your other hand to brush the loose strands of hair back from his face as you smiled

when juza came back to the dorms with the cutest, most pastel, childish hair clips, no one had time to say a word as he ran to his room and threw himself onto his bed. juza rolled onto his back, placing both his hands on his hair and putting them in front of his face as if he couldn’t believe it

he just held your hand! he was your boyfriend now! you liked him even if he was the complete opposite of you! juza silently shoved his pillow over his face, kicking the air uselessly

as your boyfriend, you and juza had much more in common than you thought. juza loved your cute sense of style, always trying his best to compliment your aesthetic by wearing more of your hair accessories and modeling for your page (apparently, he had the perfect hair color for it)

(he even let you put his hair down for certain posts, his usually slicked–back hair laying flat against his forehead as he didn’t look at you, his head turned as he blushed. “it’s not that bad, right?” he’d ask and you always complimented him no matter what)

although juza kept his rather grunge neutral look, he admired the way you were so bright and liked calling you dessert–related endearments just because you were the embodiment of sweets. he 100% thought you were the most adorable thing in his life and had to be made of pure sugar

in order to support your style, juza liked coordinating his clips with yours. he’d text you the night prior just to gain insight on what type of look you were going for and come to your bakery with something similar (even if your coworkers liked poking fun at his serious, stoic face that only changed around you)

he also came in with a new phonecase and you nearly fainted from how cute he was. he had a case that had those little squishes on them, he admitted he liked feeling them whenever he got a little anxious (it was such a cute habit, you had bought him a whole stock and it was like a little kid on christmas morning)

(you also made earrings out of a pair, he would not stop touching them)

whenever he noticed kids staring, juza never failed to advertise your business like his life depended on it. yes, your customer base actually did grow, somehow thanks to your most unlikely model yet

however, juza wasn’t the only one who had adjusted his style, you did too!

you two actually had had matching letterman jackets, yours in pink & white with a “j” in large letters and his black & grey with your first name initial as well. sometimes, you guys even switched just for the fun of it

you even got to wear his usual “10” purple jacket every now and then, even though he never said anything about liking you in his clothes. he’d just casually leave it around your place, acting like you wouldn’t notice the dark outerlayer in your mass of pastels

as you two were dating, juza wanted to be the best boyfriend possible for you as he wondered what to get you for your anniversary coming up. as juza subconsciously rubbed his clips with a thoughtful look, he suddenly had a lightbulb moment

that’s it! he should make you something in return

when you began seeing juza less and less around the bakery, you were nervous as what he was up to. juza barely hid anything from you since he was such a poor liar, so it was clear when he avoided talking about what he did after school now

in reality, juza was becoming frustrated with how big his hands were. every time he tried to make something, he was too forceful and caused the line to snap. the amount of beads he had lost at this point was laughable as juza tried to not knock over the bracelet–making kit on the table

(it took yuki coming by and taking pity on his crouched over form for him to go somewhere, muttering to himself about how he needed this to be perfect or else he’d die)

(juza always had a strong respect for jewelery makers, but it increased much more once he realized how clumsy and small his attenton span was)

just when you thought juza had forgotten your anniversary coming up, he randomly texted you out of no where asking if you were free. you looked at your shift and agreed, knowing you needed a break and not questioning a thing

when you walked out of the bakery, juza was already there with a small bag, his foot tapping against the sidewalk. before you could even ask how he’d been, he shoved it into your hand with an embarrassed blush (he was so nervous, he swore his heart skipped a beat)

“happy anniversary.” juza mumbled when you opened the small mesh, drawstring bag with a gasp. you slowly pulled out the beaded bracelet with a shocked look, seeing multiple silver dessert–themed pieces hang. there were mainly purple and black beads with four white blocks spelling out “juza”

juza showed you his wrist and he was wearing a beaded bracelet in a similar style, except his was your aesthetic with various pastel shades and your name on his string ending with a cute heart

you teared up and juza winced, rubbing the back of his neck as awkwardly looked away

“that bad, huh?” before juza could die of embarrassment, you shook your head and pulled him into a hug, surprising him when you stood on your tippy–toes to give him a kiss on the cheek

“i love it, this is the sweetest gift ever.”

“only for you.”

when juza slipped the bracelet onto your wrist, you knew you were never gonna take it off

who knew the scary, intimidating boy from the bakery was the sweetest person alive?

[katcadecascade]

Waiting for These Eyes to Open (ORV oneshot)

*spoilers up to chapter 226

Summary: 

He finds himself reaching the 73rd Demon Realm with an archangel, taking ownership of an industrial complex in Kim Dokja’s name, and confronting Asmodeus. Yoo Jonghyuk could not see himself ever doing this for anyone, mostly because no one else would get in this much trouble. 

But for some reason he did this all. All to see Kim Dokja again. And that rat bastard is sleeping. This is all exhausting to think. Thankfully, there’s a chair nearby.

If given the chance, Yoo Jonghyuk would avoid the Demon Realm as much as possible. Ever since Kim Dokja became his companion, those chances were never in his sight.

After the confrontation with Asmodeus, an encounter that literally began fracturing Yoo Jonghyuk’s body, it took a while to recover and search for Kim Dokja.

That rat bastard was all the way over in the other Industrial Complex, a place using his name much to the annoyance of Yoo Jonghyuk. Then to top it off, Kim Dokja wasn’t even awake when he finally found him.

In the back room of a clock workshop, Kim Dokja is lying in a spare bed covered in story packs. The sight almost makes Yoo Jonghyuk wince. He is not an expert at story packs but he knows it will be disastrous if a story or more are not compatible with the patient.

The woman treating him, Aileen Makerfield, was hesitant and wary about letting Yoo Jonghyuk see the patient while she injects the day’s dose of story.

“Kim Dokja told me to let him die for an hour,” she grumbled. Her steady hands carefully wrapped new bandages around an arm. Story fragments, sentences really, had spilled out from an open gash. “Now he needs sleep for days.”

It’s not often Yoo Jonghyuk stays by someone’s side when they’re recovering. It almost feels like a clique to be sitting by a sleeping Kim Dokja.

Actually, it feels utterly strange to see Kim Dokja with his eyes closed for more than two seconds.

The last time he watched Kim Dokja close his eyes is when he first became the Demon King of Salvation and died in Yoo Jonghyuk’s arms.

Yoo Jonghyuk is not sure if he feels relief to see Kim Dokja’s current state. The sickly paleness, the various tubes injected into his veins, the heartbeat monitory is louder than the little breaths Kim Dokja takes in. He can barely see the slow rise and fall of his chest, the only movement of the sleeping man.

It’s eerily to see his eyes shut when Yoo Jonghyuk expects those long eyelashes to flutter and see the vast emotions play out in Kim Dokja’s dark eyes.

So far, nothing in his three regression rounds compare to Kim Dokja’s eyes. It’s filled with something Yoo Jonghyuk cannot describe.

“At first I thought he was a smart man, a hero even.”

He nearly forgot Aileen was still here. She’s adjusting the placements of story pack but her attention flickers to him.

“Then he begins to do crazy, risky plans,” Aileen said in a tone of a disapproving mother. “Kim Dokja did it all with cool composure.”

“That is Kim Dokja,” Yoo Jonghyuk confirmed.

Aileen shook her head, “He wasn’t like that when the other Demon King entered the realm.”

Yoo Jonghyuk excused, “It was Asmodeus.”

She raised an eyebrow and in that moment, Aileen looked too similar to Han Sooyoung as she continued, “He was frantic, desperately needed to get to the Gilobat Industrial Complex. I think he even tried to bargain with the constellations too before he decided on this plan.”

He refuses to break eye contact and defiantly says, “All his plans involve him dying.”

That gets Aileen gob smacked, squinting at him and then to her patient. She’s acting as if they’re both madmen and honestly that cannot be blamed.

While the story expert is caught off guard, Yoo Jonghyuk returns to staring at Kim Dokja, remembering all the times he sacrificed himself for the party.

It’s frustratingly an occurring pattern. This man does the same thing over and over again and expects the results to be the same.

Kim Dokja expects his friends to be alive and yes, he’s accurate on that part but it is Yoo Jonghyuk who has to deal with the aftermath.

Those individuals have all soften their emotions for this one man who has left them behind with the measly promise of his return. Annoyingly, they wait.

Yoo Jonghyuk, on the other hand, is impatient.

And so he finds himself reaching the 73rd Demon Realm with an archangel, a terrible idea; taking ownership of an industrial complex in Kim Dokja’s name, because Kim Dokja is not the only one who steals names; and confronting Asmodues, the reason Yoo Jonghyuk regressed into the third round.

Yoo Jonghyuk could not see himself ever doing this for anyone, mostly because no one else would get in this much trouble. But for some reason he did this all.

All to see Kim Dokja again.

And that rat bastard is sleeping.

This is all exhausting to think. Thankfully, there’s a chair nearby.

“He’s not waking up soon,” Aileen has gather up her tools and prepares to leave, “Are you sure you want to stay?”

Without hesitation, Yoo Jonghyuk nods.

“I’ll get you some tea,” she offers with a smile. “Keep an eye on him.”

As she leaves, Yoo Jonghyuk feels impulsive.

The stillness and paleness in Kim Dokja’s face has been bothering him since he entered the room. Now with no audience, aside from the constellations unfortunately, Yoo Jonghyuk hovers a hand over Kim Dokja.

He ignores the slight shake in his hand right before his fingers touch the softness of Kim Dokja’s cheeks. Yoo Jonghyuk expected the skin to feel clammy or cold, instead the unconscious man is warm.

A tiny part of Yoo Jonghyuk relaxes, more so when he begins to trace shapeless figures between the edge of Kim Dokja’s closed eyes and his chin. He carefully pinches a stray eyelash and Yoo Jonghyuk freezes when the eye moves underneath its lid.

Then awkwardly, Yoo Jonghyuk retracts his hand when the sleeping eyes flutter open. For a moment, his heart stops beating as Kim Dokja tilts his head, slowly blinking as the corner of his pink lips form a small smile.

“My protagonist,” Kim Dokja breathes softly, as if painting on silk.

Yoo Jonghyuk ignores the weird noise his throat makes and quickly examines Kim Dokja. He spots the story pack Aileen was securing into the canteen.

It’s labeled Vulnerability of a Cursed Dreamer.

A memory pops up in Yoo Jonghyuk’s brain. It’s of Yoo Mia demanding him to read her a bed time story. It was Sleeping Beauty.

“Shut your mouth Kim Dokja.”

Doing the opposite, he continued, “My Supreme King.”

“Kim Dokja,” he warns lowly.

A tiny huff of air exits Kim Dokja, barely qualifying as a laugh as he says, “My Yoo Jonghyuk.”

Those words tug onto something inside Yoo Jonghyuk. The tone of voice alone shakes Yoo Jonghyuk’s core because has never heard his name spoken with so much tenderness.

Still surprising him, Kim Dokja awed, “You’re not dead.”

“Bastard, you don’t get to say that,” Yoo Jonghyuk instantly shot.

A hot boiling frustration always stews inside him, reserved to those deserving of his fury. His rage is snuffed when Kim Dokja’s smile brightens.

The frustration is back when Kim Dokja attempts to sit up.

“Don’t get up,” he orders, placing a hand at Kim Dokja’s collarbone.

Yoo Jonghyuk is too familiar with feeling the skin here, where he can easily slide up to grasp the neck. This is a new body so there is no evidence of times where he gripped Kim Dokja by the neck and tossed him into oblivion.

This time though, Yoo Jonghyuk secures Kim Dokja in place, making sure he won’t die here.

“I’m happy that you didn’t regress.”

“Of course you are.”

The last time he thought about regressing was at the eighth scenario, the Ultimate Sacrifice. It was the ultimatum and it made sense for him to regress up until Kim Dokja convinced him not to. Kim Dokja had said that this world line should be worth protecting.

He once believed early on, if he regresses, there could be a better chance in the next round. Even now after Kim Dokja’s talk, Yoo Jonghyuk had the thought that maybe he could use the knowledge in this round and be better in the fourth round.

Maybe Yoo Jonghyuk can stop Kim Dokja from dying so much in the fourth round.

Kim Dokja interrupts his thoughts, as he always does, and gives off the suspicious that he can actually read Yoo Jonghyuk’s mind.

“I don’t know what will happen to me if you regress.”

He blinks. Remaining calm, Yoo Jonghyuk states, “You were in the next subway car.”

Kim Dokja shakes his head, it jostles a story pack on his shoulder and Yoo Jonghyuk reaches over to secure it back on.

“It’s not that simple, it can’t be. It is never simple for me.” A cloudy gaze goes over his eyes, full of something Yoo Jonghyuk wants to describe but cannot for the life of him. Mirroring that desperation, Kim Dokja frowns, “I want this. I want to reach the end of this story.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“Would you leave me, Yoo Jonghyuk?”

It’s an unexpected question and yet this has been asked before.

Lee Seolhwa, his wife in the previous regression round, worried about his attribute.

Both she and Kim Dokja wondered about his mindset, as if regressing was a drug he’s addicted to and not a necessary last resort.

Previously, he wondered why Lee Seolhwa asked because by the next round she had forgotten who he was. Hell, she poisoned him in this round because he was careless around someone who became important to him.

Now applying that situation with Kim Dokja is a headache.

“…a regression without you sounds tempting.”

“Be honest.”

Again, Yoo Jonghyuk cannot read the emotion in Kim Dokja’ eyes. If he had to guess there is a bit of terror but that should be preposterous. Never before has Kim Dokja ever been scared of him.

Yet, Yoo Jonghyuk has an ache in his chest at the idea of Kim Dokja in fear. Be it fear of Yoo Jonghyuk or for him, it is an uneasy feeling.

It truly means that Kim Dokja puts so much trust into Yoo Jonghyuk.

He’s used to this responsibility, ignores it mostly because it is from the masses and feels its weight in his bones. But it is different coming from Kim Dokja.

Kim Dokja who knows him and his future, who knows the depths of Yoo Jonghyuk and the rest of the party. Kim Dokja who became a constellation, became a Demon King, and became Yoo Jonghyuk’s companion.

In life and death, Yoo Jonghyuk cannot imagine ever leaving Kim Dokja’s side.

With raw honesty, Yoo Jonghyuk says, “If there is a chance that I will lose you, I will not regress Kim Dokja.”

“Yoo Jonghyuk,” he smiles so sweet, “you’re a cool protagonist.”

He sucks in a sharp breath of air, not becomes this is touching but because Yoo Jonghyuk is keeping together his restraint to not throttle Kim Dokja’s neck.

It is very tempting due to how stupid Kim Dokja is.

Yoo Jonghyuk pinches the bridge of his nose, composing himself into civility. It is a tall order when it comes to moments like this. He places his hands on his lap to berate this idiot when something catches his eyes.

The story pack on Kim Dokja’ shoulder. It is labeled Loose Cognition of a Bad Luck Charm.

Does that mean…

He blinks a few times, processing and in that silence, Kim Dokja has closed his eyes and breaths slowly.

Sighing, Yoo Jonghyuk strokes hair away from Kim Dokja’s face. “Sleep and forget this conversation.”

For the next two peaceful days, Yoo Jonghyuk waits for his companion to walk up. He is half-worried if Kim Dokja remembers what they discussed. His paranoia is for naught at the end of the week when he meets Kim Dokja’s eyes.

They are wide and shocked and happy and if Yoo Jonghyuk could read his mind, he’d bet Kim Dokja is thinking, ‘You are alive.’

Bastard, Yoo Jonghyuk thinks as they catch up and at the end of it, he tells him, “Let’s go back to Earth, Kim Dokja.”

[detroitbydark]

Fox and Mouse Finale 1/2

Characters: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), and more Jedi/clones/politicians than you can shake a stick at.

Summary: Fox makes plans and then remakes them...

A/N: Ladies and Lads this is it! A chapter so stupid long it required it be split in two pieces. I'm not going to make you wait and I'll be posting both this evening. I'm feeling really sentimental because this is the longest thing I've ever written and completed. I couldn't have done it without y’all. Your support and comments have helped me get through the tough periods of writing and the stress in my life as of late. This is for you guys! Thank you. I love you! 

Special thanks as always to @skdubbs and @crimson-dxwn for being there to listen to me and help me every step of the way. You are both absolutely amazing!

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The crick in his neck is the least of Fox’s worries when he wakes. It wasn’t like he could call the tossing and turning he’d done for the last six standard hours much of a rest. After returning to his room, tail tucked between his legs, Fox hadn’t been able to unwind. He couldn’t lay his head down without a million thoughts racing through his head.

He loved her. 

Yes, it was something he’d known for a while, maybe even longer than he was willing to admit. He loved her more than he loved himself. For a long time he’d thought that’s how love was supposed to work. You sacrificed yourself for the things you loved. Now he’s not sure.

Mouse loved him. It was something he hadn’t hoped for, but after being near her, feeling her lips against his own, seeing the depth of emotion in her sad eyes as she’d kicked him out of her room - he didn’t question it. The issue he finds himself struggling with is hard to put into words. If he couldn’t love himself, if he didn’t think he was worthy, could he truly love her? Mouse was willing to accept him at his most broken, for his flaws and his lingering self doubt. If he couldn’t do the same for himself-

The thoughts kept him up the better of the night. He’d lost count of the times he’d walked to his door intent on barging into her room… and doing what? That’s where the plan got dicey and inevitably where he decided against any further action until first light.

Of course, by the time he’d fallen asleep he’d been so exhausted that he’d missed first light. It wasn’t until a pair of noisy male tik-tak birds jostled for the affections of a female outside his window that Fox woke.

His first thoughts were of Mouse as he shooed the noisy creatures from his open window.

He didn’t enjoy the smell of failure -or sweat - that permeated the air around him. He took a sonic shower so fast he would have set a record back on Kamino. 

He focused on the words he’d say to her. The words that would make her see that he was sorry. That his shabla behavior was a fluke that he could and would correct. That he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her if she’d just give him one more chance.

 He pauses as he slips into his armor.

The rest of his life.

He didn’t want her for a moment in time. He wanted her for all time, at his side through whatever life would throw at them. Resolve settles over him, the kind that a lifetime training for battle honed. There’s a certain peace to it.

Darasuum.

Like any good soldier he makes a plan. When she fails to answer her door when he knocks, he goes to plan B. He knocks again. Louder.

When that doesn’t work, he moves on to plan C.

There’s a small cadre of Jedi and Clones eating a quiet breakfast on the veranda. The sun is just peeking over the waterfalls in the distance. Cody and General Secura are speaking in quiet tones over two cups of caf. General Kenobi sits nursing a cup of tea staring out over the placid lake. Like, a sore thumb, Bly sticks out, devouring whatever pastry and fruit had been piled on his plate like he was a cadet late for morning exercises. He looks up in time to see Fox and give him an encouraging smile and a wave over before taking a bite of some sort of plump sausage even Fox found to be too large.

“Vod!” The golden yellow hues of Bly’s facial tattoos seem to glow brighter in the sun. “Su cuy’gar!” he greets happily.

Fox pauses, then pulls out a chair, grabbing a cheese filled pastry from his batch mate’s plate. “Su cuy’gar,” he greets in return. “After the sounds I was hearing last night I wasn’t sure I’d see you in one piece this morning.”

“Don’t be fooled. I’m held together by the Force and a prayer. My Aayl’ika does nothing in halves.”

Fox, even with the pressure of his impending conversation with his own love weighing on his shoulders, can’t help but chuckle as he steals the other Commander’s mug of caf. 

“Oya!”

Bly snatches the mug back and hot caf sloshes over the edges. The commander of the 327th makes a grunt of discomfort before leaning in and sucking the drops of spilt caf from the space between his thumb and index finger.

Fox smothers a laugh with a large bite of pastry. Bly raises an eyebrow before his eyes narrow in on Fox’s mouth.

“I know red is your color,” Bly grabs a napkin and tosses it to Fox, who catches it easily, “but I didn’t believe you were a lipstick man, regardless of color.”

One swipe across his mouth brings back a small smear of star cherry red lipstick. Mouse’s lipstick. He must have missed it in the shower.

“Since I don’t see the lovely dal I’m taking it either went very well or very poorly.”

Fox takes another swipe and places the napkin down when it comes back clean. “It’s a work in progress”

Bly gives him a serious look, the easy going manner from a moment ago pushed to the back burner.

“Tell me, vod. How do you and General Secura-“ Aayla glances up when she hears her name. Fox offers a tight smile. Bly shoots her a wink. “How do you do it?”

“Well you see Fox’ika, when a clone loves a Jedi-“

“Fierfek! Bly I’m being serious!”

“We’re honest with one another” Aayla’s smooth Ryl accent interrupts whatever comment Bly was getting ready to make. She moves gracefully over from her previous spot near Cody. The Marshal Commander has now joined his Jedi staring peacefully out across the water. Fox doesn’t doubt he’s listening in.

He isn’t sure whether he should be thankful for Secura’s intervention or not. Never having had a Jedi of his own, he still has moments where he finds their presence overwhelming. Aayla looks about as intimidating as a loth kitten this morning in leggings and a loose tunic, somehow looking incredibly chic and supremely comfortable all at once. Her eyes find his, searching for something as she sits down next to her Commander. “We’ve had to learn the finer points of communication.” She looks to Bly. Adoration is written across her delicate features as her lekku twitch happily. “We have to be able to trust each other.”

“It’s work,” Bly says, taking Aayla’s hand and placing a soft kiss along her knuckles ,“but we make it work.”

“And after the war?”

Aayla sighs. “We will cross that bridge when we come to it, but I don’t know if my loyalty can remain with the order alone. Once the Force has shown you something-“ she pauses and smiles softly at Fox, “The Force works in mysterious ways, would you agree?”

“General Secura.” Cody’s voice comes from across the veranda because - of course - he was listening, “I believe you forgot to mention respect.”

Aayla smothers a smile. “Oh yes, respect is quite important.”

Fox is very quickly beginning to feel the nonexistent walls close in around him. “Yes. Yes. “ he grumbles, “I’m a lousy di’kut.”

“You said that - not us - Commander,” General Kenobi chimes in without turning his head away from the lake spread out before him.

“Beg your pardon Generals, Commanders, but I don’t need the Force to tell me that I made a fool of myself last night.” He pushes up from his seat, stealing the caf back from Bly and finishing off the dregs. The other Commander makes a disgruntled sound. “Now, if just one of you could point me in the correct direction I have some-

“Groveling?”

“Pleading?”

“Apologizing?”

The voices all mingle together as they chime in and Fox sighs, rubbing his temple.

“Yes, all of that and then some. Just-“ he lets out an exasperated sound “-has anyone seen her?”

——-

Mouse hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Really, she’d just hoped to get away for a bit. She needed to separate herself from the faces that looked so much like his and the sad looks they’d given her as she’d picked at her breakfast.

She needed to know that Fox wasn’t just a few easy steps across the hall. She’d stood with her hands flat against the door too many times for her liking last night. It was only a few steps and she could be wrapped up in him, repercussions be damned.

Mouse wanted to pretend that her ultimatum may not end with a choice she wasn’t happy with. If Fox decided he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - do what she’d asked, well, she wasn’t sure how she’d handle it.

The field, nearly half a klik from the estate, had become a favorite over the last few months. Close enough to the waterfalls to hear the rush of water over the edge - and catch some mist on a windy day - but rarely visited by locals. It was peaceful. 

The summer grasses had easily surpassed the height of her knees weeks ago and - with a little more rain and sunshine - would soon be at her waist. For now it was just long enough to make a makeshift nest when she lay a blanket down. The green stems stood proudly around their brothers and sisters squashed by the worn quilt she spread out. 

The sun shone softly through a sea of gossamer clouds, its rays warm and soothing as she lay down with a datapad to review Padmé’s personhood bill in its entirety. Mouse couldn’t help the pull of sleep. The legalese of the document and warm kiss of sun paired with the sleeplessness from the night before had her first drowsing then, finally, blessedly sleeping sheltered from the world and her problems that lay outside her ring of softly swaying pastoral grass and millaflowers.

Her dreams begin as nothing in particular. Another blessing in disguise. Nothing bad troubles her sleep, though nothing good brings tenderness either. Instead she catches glimpses of Coruscant, of Fox and the other boys of the Guard, of a tiny green-skinned twi’lek girl. Images of Luke and Leia older and toddling around with their mother and father laughing and following behind them. Slowly, the boys are filtered out, then the Amidala-Skywalker clan, even little Me’kar fades away. All of it is gone and Mouse finds herself alone in front of a tiny cottage. It has a vegetable garden along one side and rows of flowers along the other. She hears her name whispered softly, the warm rumble of it so familiar.

“Mouse.”

“Mouse”

“Mouse.”

Her eyes flutter open, and she squints into sun spilling around a vaguely humanoid shape while her eyes attempt to adjust to the sudden change. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you.” 

Fox.

She’d know his voice anywhere. Hope springs to life in her chest. He’d come to find her. Surely that had to be a good thing, right? She moves to stand, getting as far as sitting before he makes a disgruntled sound and angles himself down and onto her blanket. She watches him look around, his head barely above the tall grasses surrounding them. His gaze moves to her discarded shoes and bare feet, slowly traveling up over her calves where her dress has ridden up in her sleep. She blinks, trying to push the residual fog of sleep from her head. Fox’s gloved hand reaches out and skims over her ankle. That electric spark she’d felt at his touch last night is still there.

“Fox?” He won’t look her in the eyes. The feeling of his touch is missed when he pulls his hand away. “Fox-“ she tries again, hiding and failing to hide the slight quiver in her voice.

He holds his hand up. “I have things to say and I need you to listen to every one. I’m- I’m not sure if you’re going to like what I have to say.”

Mouse nods slowly. He’s more his namesake now, more animal than she’s ever seen him. She moves slowly to rise to her knees, afraid the wrong move, a sudden quick one, will see him breaking away.

“I can do that,” she offers slowly. Fear at what he has to say leaves a thick knot in her stomach. “If we’re going to do this, though, I need to see your eyes. Ok?”

Fox makes another sound, a small grunt of assent as she rises on her knees and puts her hands to either side of his bucket. She releases the locks, hears the gentle hiss of release. His features are schooled when she lifts it off, but she knows her Fox. Whatever he has to say is eating at him. She can see it in the dark circles that rest underneath his eyes, the exhaustion that looks almost permanent in the soft brown eyes she adores so much. Always the caregiver, she fights the urge to pull him down, make him lay his head in her lap. She wants to card her fingers through the new growth of hair, brush through the locks that were just beginning to curl and swirl at the ends until he falls asleep. 

But she also needs to know what he has to say. She needs her answer so her heart can shatter or mend because whatever it is, there will be no in between. Not with him. Not with them.

She watches him swallow, look at the sky and the soft clouds above them before bringing his attention back to her.

“I’ve made mistakes in my life,” he begins, “Some of them widely known. You- you are the mistake I regret the most.”

Mouse attempts to turn away, but she can’t. His words- it feels like she’s watching a hover train come off the rails in slow motion. Fox glances down at his hands, squeezes them into fists.

“I-“ his eyes travel back to hers, pinning her in place “I’ve called you my precious girl more times than I can remember, because to me you are the most precious gift the maker has ever deemed fit to give me. But you're not a girl. You’re a woman,. A smart, strong, caring woman and I called you a girl. When things got hard, I treated you like one, like I had never made a mistake, like I knew what was best for the both of us.”

Mouse can see it in the little ways he moves, the clench of his fingers and the way his eyes trail to her shoulder, the scar covered by the thin summer dress, that it is taking everything for him to muscle through this.

“Fox, why are you saying this?”

“Because I need you to know.” His jaw is set in a sharp line. “I need you to know that I’ve thought about you every day since you left Coruscant, that I dream about you every night. I need you to know that I’m afraid to be around you, that even with the chip gone and that- that hut’uun,” spitting the word out as if it tastes bad in his mouth, “dead, I’m scared that it’s not enough, that someone is going to say the wrong thing and I’m going to do something you won’t come back from - and there’ll be no field of wildflowers for me to find you sleeping in, because you’ll be dead and it will be my fault”

Mouse grabs his hand, forces her fingers between his until he relents and lets her hold it. Her other reaches up, strokes along his right temple and feels the telltale ridge of scar under her fingers.

“Listen to me.” It’s a firm order and his eyes go a little wide. “You are not a bad man. You never have been. You never will be. You are the reason I’m alive. Your will, your strength kept you from making a shot I know for a fact you could make in your sleep. The scars I bear are your love brought to life.”

Fox shakes his head quickly. “That is sick, cyar’ika, you were-“ 

It’s Mouse’s turn to make a sound of discontentment as she pulls at the collar of her dress, stretching it out and down around her shoulder. “Look at it,” she demands. When he hesitates, she places his hand on it, holds it down with her own. “It’s just skin, just flesh over bone. Do you think Palpatine would have allowed me to live even if you hadn’t been the one to do it?”

Her hand slides his down to her chest where she holds it high on her left breast. “This has always been yours. Do you feel it?”

Fox’s fingers twitch over her racing heart. She had to make him see. Even if this was the last moment they were ever together, he had to leave without the guilt. “This has always been yours,” she repeats again, “You protected it and I’m alive because of it.”

Fox pulls away from her with a rough exhale, shaking his head. Mouse lowers herself, sitting on her feet, pretending she doesn’t feel the pins and needles building in them. He won’t look at her as she adjusts the neck of her dress back. She’s failed. The sudden realization hits with such certainty. She was going to lose him for good.

“You are so warm. You draw people to you and take them in, claim them as yours and care for them. You’ve never seen myself or any of the other Guard as just clones. From day one you spoke to each and every trooper you met as an individual. You’ve always tried to help and for some reason I was the one lucky enough to have you helping me. Even when I was acting like osik. Even when I was gruff and dismissive. You dealt with me-“

“-And I loved you” 

Love her head screams at her to correct but she doesn’t. Fox nods.

“Someone else will come along and they’ll love you with everything they have to give.”

Mouse feels a sharp pain in her chest and tries to turn away. Fox’s curled finger catches under her chin and brings her eyes back up to his. Mouse sees something steely in their warm depths.

“They’ll give you the world. Everything I can’t. But you know what?” He lets the question hang in the air for a moment. “I don’t want anyone else to love you. That’s my job. I don’t want to lose you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I ever put you in a position to think otherwise.”

Relief, warm and fluid fills her veins as tears threaten at the corners of her eyes. Fox watches with slow building panic.

“I- please don’t cry.”

Mouse laughs then and leans up, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss that he doesn’t respond to immediately. When she pulls back, he looks pleasantly bewildered.

“I’m not sad.” She wipes aggressively at a tear rolling down her cheek. “These are happy.”

Fox’s hands cup her cheeks, his thumb brushing away another stray tears. “Well if that’s all…”

 He leans in and captures her mouth in another sweet, delicate kiss, pours his love into it until it’s spilling over and Mouse thinks she could happily drown in the feel of it. 

When she attempts to deepen the kiss, he pulls back. Mouse bites the inside of her cheek to stop a whine from escaping.

“My self control is negligible at this point.” Fox manages a strained laugh while he cradles her face. “I don’t want to rush-“

Mouse presses forward and kisses him hard, sharp teeth nipping just this side of painful along his lower lip. The growl she’s missed over the last few months rumbles in his chest.

When she pulls back, letting his lip slip between her teeth, she can’t help but appreciate the way his eyes have darkened. His hands fall down to her hips and he stares. Just stares into her eyes, searching for something. Mouse doesn’t look away.

“You want to do this right here?” His voice is thick with the familiar gravel of lust and Mouse feels a wave of heat ripple through her body. Right here, on the blanket in the warm sun where anyone could see. There’s a certain thrill to that thought. She swallows thickly. 

“We need to slow down,” Fox repeats.

“Are you saying that for you or me? Because I’ve been waiting months to touch you,” she admits. If possible, Fox’s eyes darken more at the admission. She’s always loved his durasteel will, but right now Mouse found it more than a little irritating. 

“Cyar’ika.” His tone is warm, but the warning underneath is very clear. Ok. Fine. She could go a bit longer. 

“Can I show you something?”

A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as his thumbs brush small light circles over her dress. 

“I suppose it depends on what you're trying to show me.” 

Mouse leans forward and the pair meet in a slow kiss, just a soft press of their mouths that neither can seem to deny. She murmurs against his lips when she pulls back. 

“Come with me.”

——-

Link to part 2/2 here

[aureolusfirewrites]

Here we go again

This one finally has some brooken fluff dont worry though because I'm to angst filled to have to much fluff for to long before absolutely ruining everything

Veined in Black

Chapter 3

/October 31/

Rook waited outside the door to Ben's room. After he knocked the first time and got no response his mind immediately flickered to the idea that Ben might be sick or hurt or worse but the second time he had heard some rustling and a voice call out "Just a second!" 

When Ben finally stepped out he looked great. A lot better than he had yesterday which, to be fair, wouldn't take much. He was still pale and there were still bags under his eyes but he didn't seem like he was about to fall over sick any second. "Well you are looking much better" he commented.

"Hey Rook!" Ben said cheerfully. "You ready for the Halloween party tonight!" Rook chuckled at his partner's excitement. "Indeed I am though you have not told me what you will be going as" he didn't know why Ben refused to tell him unless it was for some sort of surprise. Ben had done that before, held off information to reveal it at the right time but Rook didn't understand the importance of hiding his costume. 

"Are you coming?" Ben called running down the hallway. Rook chased after him and caught up easily. Ben never had very much luck outrunning him he was simply to short to have a lead for to long. 

"Ben where are you going?" He asked quizzically. "Well I was thinking what if instead of Bellwood we patrol undertown today" Rook quirked his head, Ben liked undertown Rook understood that but he also remembered quite clearly that Ben had been avoiding it during halloween. There were so many criminals down in undertown and when undertown did halloween they did halloween hard. 

"Why may I asked would you want to tour undertown?" Ben smiled and shook his head. "Oh c'mon Rook it's halloween think of all the cool stuff that's gonna be down there! I bet the entire city is decked out!"

He ducked and backed up as the teenager frantically waved his arms around as he talked. Rook had noticed this pattern of body language very early on in their partnership and he knew that Ben didn't notice he did so, and didn't control it either. Most of the time this led to Ben accidentally smacking his hands into Rook but he had learned how to dodge. 

"Are you sure you want to risk going to undertown today? I know you don't like to talk about it but are you not concerned about having a potential... breakdown?"

Ben stopped and put his hand up to his chin. Rook wasn't sure what he was looking at. Normally at the mention of Ben's occasional mental instability he would get a glare or snarky comment or on a rare occasion just a gentle 'its fine' but now Ben looked confused. As if he wasn't even sure what Rook had meant. 

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

It started happening a few months ago, well longer than that but Rook had started noticing a few months ago. The uneven breaths Ben sometimes had to take, the jumping and flinching at contact in certain areas. Rook had easily guessed what might be going on with his overly heroic self-sacrificing partner, but it had been confirmed in the worst way possible. 

Zombozo had shown up again and Rook had noticed Ben was already panting at the sight of the clown. He couldn't imagine how bad it would get though.

After the fight Ben had fallen to his hands and knees staring at the ground panting gasping and shaking with his pupils no bigger than pinpricks. Rook bent over and put a hand on Ben's shoulder. Apprently that had been the wrong move. Ben whipped around faster than light and smacked Rook off of him. Then Ben was pushing himself backwards screaming at Rook saying "GET AWAY FROM ME" and "DON'T TOUCH ME!"  One look into Ben's eyes and Rook could tell he wasn't  really seeing him anymore. The thin pupils glancing around wildly as if there was a crowd surrounding him. 

Rook knew what it was, just never expected to see the Ben 10 having a panic attack.  Rook simply sat down on the ground and talked to Ben from a distance not making any move forward and just letting Ben hear his voice. 

Rook had no idea how he hadn't noticed any sooner. With how early Ben was thrown into this lifestyle and the constant threats against him Rook was surprised he hadn't developed any form of PTSD earlier. 

After a while Ben's breathing evened out and he was able to choke out Rook's name before he curled up and started bawling his eyes out. Rook had never seen his partner cry before but it seemed like this was long overdue as Ben buried his face into Rook's chest clinging to him like a lifeline. Ben had passed out after a while still hanging on to Rook who had taken him home and told Max about the incident. 

Since then Rook had just tried to understand the condition better and help keep his partner grounded.

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

Ben was mumbling and Rook could only hear half of it. "Breakdown- I didn't think he- that would explain-" 

"Don't worry Rook it won't be a problem I'm feeling good about today!" Ben said finally getting back on task. "If you say so..." 

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

The trip in undertown went unsettlingly better than he would've thought. Ben never flinched when people bumped into him, never sent a nervous glance at anyone, not even a slight hitch in his breath. Which was quite a feat considering their surroundings. 

Undertown had transformed for the holiday. The vendors had painted their carts and hung up orange lanterns pumpkins and other things had faces carved into them and were glowing casting haunting light over everything. And the entire city hummed with purple light where there wasn't orange. To summarize Undertown had turned into an earthen version of Anur Transyl.

Ben walked around looking at things and laughing with Rook. He was happy to see his partner so carefree the sky above knows he needed it but also unnerved him. Ben just seemed off to him. 

"So about the plumber's party tonight, I was thinking maybe we could go... Together?" Rook quirked his head to the side in confusion. "Were we not already going to attend the party together?" Ben's face burned red. "I- I- mean maybe as like a kinda sorta... Date?" 

Rook was pretty sure his brain did a... What would Ben call it? Short circuit? 

"AUGH no" Ben buried his now entirely red face in his hands "stupid, I'm so stupid this is stupid, just forget I said anything-" "I'd love to" Ben froze and glanced at Rook. "Really?" "Would you like me to stop by your room at eight?" Ben smiled widely "y- yeah that'd be awesome." 

They stayed like that for a while on the boardwalk not saying anything until the omnitrix beeped. 

"Oh right I forgot I set that, Rook I gotta go back to my room and get ready... See you in a bit?"

Rook nodded with a smile and watched Ben walk a ways away before getting up and doing what Ben called a 'fist pump' and walking to his truck.

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

Rook looked at the costume he had prepared. Ben said that a costume enough would've been not wearing his armor but plumber base had a tendency to take advantage of letting your guard down so he had this. 

He had taken the main pieces of his armor and spray painted them changing it from a dark blue to a ghostly white. He put it on and looked in the mirror. It had turned out better than Rook could've expected he looked just like he was wearing a skeleton costume and he had found a special coating to it would glow in the dark to. 

Rook was excited wondering what costume Ben had chosen. He really hadn't been expecting a date proposition while they were in undertown but he also couldn't say he hadn't wanted it. Truthfully he had been avoiding the idea of having feelings for his partner, but for Ben to return the feeling...

Rook stopped in front of Ben's room. A pit had suddenly formed in his stomach. He thought for a moment he might just be nervous but it was more like his 'danger radar' was going off. He opened to door and walked inside. The lights were all turned off odd...

"Ben? It is almost time for the party are you prepared?" The door behind him slammed shut suddenly. Rook jumped startled away from it the only light in the room was his armor until... 

'czzrk crrk zrrkc' crackling noises came from above him and he looked up at something flashing. Suddenly humming split the terrifying atmosphere making the eerie feeling worse. It was a haunting melody that carried loudly and sounded like it came from a child. Rook looked up at the rafters.

There was crackling green electricity sparking with purple swinging back and forth. Illuminating a figure above him. "...Ben?" 

A raspy chuckle came from the teenager.

"So​​​rry Blonko Ben isn't home right now."

[wearetakingthehobbitstogallifrey]

Kdrama recs Part 1

Hullo and welcome to the kdrama life @camsthisky​! The following list is not in any particular order, other than the fact that I start with a more rom/com vibe and head toward more romantic/action or action. All the following kdramas are set in the modern day, and part 2 of my recs for you will be either darker kdramas set in present day or historical dramas.

Let the list begin!

1. Strong Woman Do Bong Soon: 

Do Bong Soon is a v smol woman who has super strength and who wants 1. To create her own video game 2. Get her police officer crush to return her affections. Which like, police officer is kinda cute but he ain’t that special. Bong Soon winds up becoming a bodyguard to Ahn Min Hyuk, the extremely rich, kinda spoiled, ridiculously extra CEO of a gaming company who does not like the police for secret reasons, and sadly does not have a good relationship with his family. (He a lonely boy underneath everything.) Min Hyuk finds out about Bong Soon’s powers, is in TOTAL awe of her, offers to train her in fighting, and literally falls head over heels for her.

The caveat with this show is there is a subplot or two that annoy me, BUT I just use the 10 second skip button and it is totally worth it because the romance is super cute—SUPER CUTE (also I have a list of favorite actors and Park Hyung Sik is def on it—one minute he is an adorkable, blushing bby the next he can be intense and sad)

He cute

2. Her Private Life: 

Hello fake-dating!! Ryan Gold (an adoptee who didn’t live in Korea for a while) is a former artist who stopped painting because he couldn’t deal with his Stendhol (?) syndrome (among other traumas). Deok Mi is the classy art curator of a famous museum who definitely does not have any secrets she wants to keep from the world—well, other than the fact that she is the number one fangirl of kpop idol, Cha Shi-an (who also appreciates art) and has a major crush on him. Ryan becomes director of the art museum and there is a whole thing with getting Shi-an involved in an art show.

Following this and a series of unfortunate events a false rumor starts that Deok Mi and and Shi-an ARE dating. It’s a little complicated to summarize, but basically what you need to know is that Ryan and Deok Mi become a fake couple so there won’t be a scandal for Shi-an or violence done to Deok Mi by rabid fangirls. I enjoy the fake-dating trope a lot, and how it becomes real for both of them! The leads are played by Kim Jae Wook and Park Min Young, who both have incredible range. Lots of soft moments in this one! Good kisses, a scene where the faves bake together, and also Ryan wears a lot of deep v-neck shirts and jackets which is an attack on me personally.

The show also contains a bit of angst, which I LOVE. Hand-holding becomes an important theme 😊

RYAN NO

3. Crash Landing on You: Rich South Korean heiress/fashion designer Se-ri accidentally winds up in a North Korean village, and really REALLY wants to go home. Mostly because there are no scented candles or spa-like bathtubs in the vicinity, but also because she could easily disappear into a NK jail and never return. A North Korean captain named Ri Jeong Hyeok finds her and decides not to turn her because, one, he’s a good guy who doesn’t want to turn an innocent person over to what might be her death, and two, turning her over might get his four underlings in trouble for reasons. Said underlings are his family, basically, and they are a deLIGHT. One is an argumentative proud sort who likes to drink and to feel important and who tries to provoke (and gets provoked by) Se-ri at every opportunity, one is a lover of banned South Korean dramas, one is a 17 year old bby who misses his mom, and one is the silent but most loyal follower of the captain. 

Besides all these people, there are two other characters (including a surprisingly wise conman) who become faves and major players in the plot.

There is a great mix of humor, romance, found family, and angst, and I love it very much. A few things don’t go the way I want them to near the end, but a bit of imagination and fanfic can fix anything 

ALSO I FORGOT THE CAPTAIN GETS SUPER SULKY FROM TIME TO TIME AND IT IS HILARIOUS

Show of hands, who thinks they will meet again

4. Are You Human Too: A FAVORITE SHOW OF ALL! TIME!

What do you do when your husband dies and your evil mega-rich father-in-law takes your son away from you and keeps you from seeing him ever? Well, if you are scientist with more genius than positive coping methods, you build yourself a robot son who looks exactly like your real son. Great solution, am I right?

Nam Shin III is the name of my favorite robot son, played by the inestimable Seo Kang Joon. He is the purest bby you will ever meet, being designed so that he never lies and so that he will immediately go to hug anyone who cries. He seems quite a contrast to the bitter human Nam Shin, who hates his gilded prison life, hates his Grandpa, and tries to sneak away from his right hand man, Secretary Ji Young Hoon, his only friend in the world. The girl in the show is Kang So Bong, an ex-UFC fighter who was so badly injured she had to quit. She is at first a bit jaded and mercenary because of her past, but she has a golden heart that just needs to be reminded of its existence.

Not going into details to avoid spoilers, but everything upends when the robot Nam Shin has to take the place of the human Nam Shin. The show is a soft, funny, angsty exploration of what it means to be human, with some good found family throughout. The character development is phenomenal, and the connection between So Bong and Nam Shin III is *chef’s kiss*. I just want to give a shout out to Seo Kang Joon who plays a duel role like you wouldn’t believe, to SKJ’s smile, to the soundtrack, and to the character of Young Hoon, a loyal, steady, and self-sacrificing secretary that we do not deserve  (gosh tho he looks good in blue!)

Look at my robot son getting a long-looked for affirmation! (his lil smile!!!

5. W: Two Worlds: 

This show unique because it  meta as HELL! Oh Yeon Joo is a junior doctor and the daughter of a webtoon artist whose big hit, W, is coming to a close. Much to her surprise, she gets pulled into the world of the comic where she encounters and saves the main character, Kang Chul, a former Olympic shooting champion who was blamed for the murder of his entire family, and whose sole desire is to find the real killer. It’s a good romance between them, and I also love Kang Chul’s relationship with his hyung, which, tho it is not always a main focus, is present and wonderful. Kang Chul himself is both intelligent and adorably bratty, charismatic and angsty, soft and fierce, and he is one of my favorite kdrama characters for sure.

As for the meta, the show does a fantastic job exploring the rules of the comic world, of how one can enter and leave, the importance and power of main characters and supporting characters, and the purpose of an author. There is always another twist coming, and it is just so much fun!

UM SIR PLS POINT THAT ELSEWHERE

6. Healer: 

I watched half this show and never realized that the female lead is played by Park Min Young, same actress as in Her Private Life. Someone had to tell me lol! She’s just so good at playing different people. In this show, she is Chae Young Shin, a reporter for a celebrity tabloid who has big dreams of becoming a famous reporter who investigates stories that actually mean something. She is a bit quirky, very cute, very brave, and probably one of my favorite female leads. She lives with her dad above his coffee/teashop bakery and is friends with all the ex-cons he has defended while doing his other job of lawyering.

Anyway this show is more of a romantic/action drama. To get an idea of the titular Healer, picture what you would get if you took some of Batman and Nightwing’s aesthetics (wearing black, hanging out on rooftops, punching people, flipping around, etc) and put them into a night courier who likes to watch National Geographic and dream about one day going off to an island where he can live all by himself for the rest of his days because oh yeah he is a loner whose only friend is an older woman who sets up his jobs and whom he has never actually met.

There is also an older reporter that Young Shin looks up to, the fun tabloid office where she works, a heck lot of mystery surrounding some tragedy involving a group of reporter best friends/found family back in the 80’s/90’s, and of course both members of the OTP have childhood trauma that has made them who they are today. One of my favorite things that happens in the show is that Healer has to go undercover for a while, Clark Kenting it up in Young Shin’s tabloid office, which overnight becomes a real news agency for reasons.

The action is LOTS of fun, and the romance is really soft and cute, and better still, when there is a misunderstanding or something that gets in their way, they almost immediately talk about it and resolve issues. They TRUST each other and give the benefit of the doubt where many tv couples would break up or get in big fights. I find it (plus the character development) very refreshing.

I couldn’t find a gif of my favorite fight sadly. This will have to do

7. Lawless Lawyer: This has Lee Joon Gi. Watch it.

Just kidding, there are many other reasons to watch the show, but it is true that Lee Joon Gi is one of my favorite actors. The man has phoenix eyes, a jawline that could cut silk, diamonds, you name it, and such a deep well of emotional acting that it literally kills me when his characters rage/weep/love/etc.

Anyway, in this legal thriller/romance/action drama, LJG’s character Bong Sang Pil is a beautiful, very extra ex-gangster/now lawyer who opens his own office, ready to fight villainy and avenge his mom with the law or with his fists, whichever is more useful at the time. He has a right hand man named Manager Tae and recruits a bunch of thugs as his minions, and they all become a weird sort of family as the show goes on.

Ha Jae Yi is a quiet badass lawyer who has no time for sexist idiots and gets her license suspended for smacking one of said fools. She gets recruited to assist Sang Pil, and they find their goals align as both their mothers were destroyed by the villains.

Speaking of the villains? EXCELLENT acting by them all, like they need to go down obviously, but you can’t help but be in awe of a few of them or even get attached to one or two in a weird way. Props to the show for having one of the best female villains I have ever seen

What an icon

Here you get two gifs of him

Sorry I needed to make it a magical three lol

~~

Tune in next time for historical dramas and modern dramas that are a bit darker!