#two things: first of all i am always so baffled that apparently it's not perfectly obvious/

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

Every morning Dad got up early and made breakfast for her. If it was the dead of winter he pulled Mom’s car up to the front of the house, cleared off the snow, and turned on the heater for her. Every night after work Dad had a cocktail with Mom and they chatted about the events of the day. We went to family gatherings, where Dad was always well liked and lively. He was a great dad—very loving and attentive. He doted on my mother and was very much in love with her. I never heard him use profanity or witnessed him losing his temper. He never raised a hand to us kids when we didn’t deserve it—and there were plenty of times we did deserve it and didn’t get it.

~ Michael Sobel (Sobel's son)

[pippytmi]

1, 4, 14?

The one hope Kara has for her roommate is that Lena Luthor will not be a smoker.

Alex had told her not to have high expectations; after all, this roommate arrangement was all organized through Winn, and Alex has always stated that she doesn’t trust this man’s self-preservation tactics. (“Once, during an earthquake drill, he started to climb up the building. Kara, what kind of a moron does that?”)

But Kara isn’t as cynical as her sister…or quite as mean. So she trusts that Winn’s people skills are better than his survival skills, and resolves not to write off Lena by virtue of association alone. It’s expensive enough to live in National City; when Winn had promised a roommate that “probably won’t be tempted to murder anyone anytime soon,” that had honestly been a good enough draw. (That had, of course, been sandwiched in a perfectly normal explanation about Lena being the best student in their shared pre-med classes—Winn maintains that anyone pursuing med school that rigorously will be too tired to consider recreational murder on the side.)

So Kara takes her tentatively-moderate-expectations—along with a box of donuts as a gift—and makes her way to apartment 9b. This is technically her first time ever being a real roommate; her only other experience was sharing a wall with Alex during their teenage years, and occasionally during their college years when they weren’t driving each other crazy. So maybe, because she’s never had to deal with boundaries or tact with her sister, she kind of…abandons all formalities and just uses her brand new key to open the front door.

(In hindsight, she really should have knocked first.)

“Golly!” Almost immediately, Kara is jumping right back out into the hallway, and the box of donuts is falling to a tragic death on the carpet. Oh no. Oh gosh. This is more embarrassing than trying to climb up the library during an earthquake drill—

She is still sitting on the floor, dumbstruck, with maple glaze smearing on her jeans when the door opens again. Lena Luthor pokes her head out, and she is simultaneously everything Kara expected and everything she didn’t. Per Winn’s description, Lena is indeed “classically beautiful,” and she has one of those faces: slightly closed off, hesitant to emote much. And when she has clothes on, she truly does have the fashion sense of an aspiring college professor, albeit with a touch more lipstick than Kara would expect.

“Okay, maybe I’m crazy,” Lena says slowly, “but did I hear you say that out loud?”

Kara immediately lifts her head up to squint at the direction of the strange voice. Lena has very pretty green eyes, but they are exceptionally confused at the moment. “What?” she says, echoing that same perplexment in her own voice.

“I could’ve sworn you said ‘golly,’ like some kind of peasant in a Christmas Carol or something,” Lena says, as if that’s a totally normal route of conversation to take after being caught naked. She leans halfway out the door, looking down at Kara with that attractive, baffled expression on her face, and all Kara has taken from this encounter so far is that her new roommate is hot.

“I...did say that,” Kara says after a beat. “But in my defense, I was completely surprised.” As one might be walking in on anybody naked, she thinks, but doesn’t actually say out loud.

“Right.” And then Lena frowns, slightly, in a manner that makes her lipsticked mouth twist down a corner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming by today. I could have sworn your text mentioned your move in day being the third.”

Kara stretches her leg out and pretends the sole of her shoe isn’t caked in chocolate icing. “Today is the third,” she points out, and then hastily adds, “And um—I’m sorry. I should have knocked. I just didn’t know you were…”

“Showering,” Lena finishes, at the same time Kara says,

“...a nudist.”

Lena stares. And then she blinks, and then she stares some more. “What?” This time, that careful kind of confusion entirely drops, and now she’s looking at Kara like she has grown two heads. “How do you automatically jump to that?”

“Because you’re naked in the middle of the day?!” It’s pretty self-explanatory in her opinion, but Kara still gets up off the floor in order to better face her new roommate (and because it feels strangely like she is the one being judged right now). “Everyone knows that showering is a night or a morning time thing—walking around naked any other time is weird.”

“Wow,” Lena says, and she actually crosses her arms, further cementing the whole Kara-is-the-one-being-judged thing. “I can’t believe you think nudists are weird. That’s pretty ironic coming from Tiny Tim.”

“Hey, I never said I thought nudists were weird. Just, their hobbies are. Is being naked a hobby?” Kara considers delving into that discussion, but Lena is squinting at her (and Lena has a very piercing squint), so she drops the subject. “Anyway, it’s fine if you’re a nudist. I can just…start wearing sunglasses inside, or something.”

“Because my naked body is that blinding?” Lena scowls. “I don’t go out in the sun much, alright, so sue me for being pale—”

“That’s not what I meant!” Kara blurts, helpless, and she knows in that instant she’s gone entirely red in the face. “I, uh. I didn’t mean to sound judge-y. Really, I don’t care what you do in your spare time. Unless…can I ask if you smoke?”

And it is with that sheepish question that Lena’s affrontive attitude slowly begins to fade. “No,” she says, in a manner that is faintly amused. “But I’m glad that’s your priority. Seriously? Are you really just going to say you’d be fine if I spent every single waking moment in our apartment naked?”

Kara shrugs, still flushed up to the tips of her ears, and makes a valiant effort not to think about that when Lena almost-smiles she can see the indent of a possible dimple on her cheek. “Well, if that’s what you want,” Kara says. “I won’t…stare or anything, I promise.”

“That’s comforting, but I’m not a nudist.” Lena smiles, and yep—dimple—Kara is pretty much done for.

“Okay.”

“No, I mean it.” And then that smile drops as Lena suddenly reconsiders something. “Also, why do you assume it’s weird to be naked in the afternoon?”

Kara gestures vaguely with her hands to where her watch would be. “Because,” she says, “it’s weird to shower in the afternoon.”

“But what if I had been naked for another reason besides showering?” Lena apparently has the ability to raise her whole eyebrow, and it’s unfair how mesmerizing that is.

“Like…non-nudist reasons?” Kara asks, and Lena’s smile comes back in a mischievous form.

“Yes, exactly.”

“Uh,” Kara says ineloquently, and suddenly her mind is coming up with far too many scenarios that she really shouldn’t. “That would be fine. Too. I mean, I can wear earplugs with the sunglasses. Or I can just wait out here too, until you’re…done. The carpet here is pretty comfortable. Is it the same in the apartment? ‘Cause if so, I mean, the landlord really outdid himself. I’ve had carpets that aren’t half as fluffy in hotel rooms that charged way more than—”

Lena cracks the door wider, and then her gaze drifts over towards where Kara’s housewarming donut gift has landed. “Have I broken you?” she asks. “Or are you always this awkward around naked women?”

“I’m—what?” Kara sputters. “I’m completely normal around naked women. Sometimes I am also a naked women.”

“Right,” Lena says, “when you shower in the morning. Or night.”

Kara frowns. “Yes,” she says, “and that's completely normal. And not weird.”

“Noted.” Lena pulls open the door the rest of the way, then throws a dangerous sort of smirk over her shoulder. “You are Kara Danvers, right? I’d hate to have to re-do the apartment tour, so if you’ve just come to break in, I have to warn you: I’m saving for med school, so I pretty much own nothing of value.”

“Yeah, no, I’m...Kara,” Kara says, slightly bewildered, but she gathers her bag and her donut box trash and follows Lena inside; she’ll have to deal with the mess outside later. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I just forgot, with the whole…”

“It’s alright.” Lena scrunches her nose up apologetically, suddenly quite sheepish; if Kara had to pick a word, she’d call the tic adorable. “I didn’t exactly introduce myself either. Well, at least in the traditional sense.” She leads Kara into the kitchen, where there is a bottle of wine sitting on the table. “Can I make it up to you with a drink?”

And Kara doesn’t know how, exactly, she’s going to live like this—going to live with the knowledge that her new roommate apparently showers in the afternoon, and drinks a whole bottle of wine alone, and makes sexual references to people she’s known for all of twenty minutes. In other words:

“Yeah,” Kara says, nudging her glasses up her nose and delighting in the curve of Lena’s ensuing smile. “I could go for a drink.”

[bbangsoonie]

good for nothing

member: juyeon genre: angst (royal au) word count: 4,635 synopsis: despite being the first born and the kingdom’s princess, you lived your whole life in the shadow of the crown prince born to a concubine. in your plot for revenge, a fool in love comes along your path. warning(s): violence

kingdom masterlist

Princess Y/n. You were the first born of the king and queen, educated beyond societal standards for girls, and incredibly beautiful. Yet, you were disregarded and looked down on since the moment you were born. Your brother, who was born to a concubine, was the crown prince and received much greater respect. The reason? You were a girl. A good-for-nothing girl as your father called you on multiple occasions.

The king was ashamed to have his first born be a daughter. He also felt threatened by your rejection of the status quo. Because of this, he grabbed every opportunity to make you submit to him.

You were exceptionally smart but no one cared to notice. Your desire to learn was ignored and you were forced to embroider butterfly patterns instead. At a young age, you realized your place. You knew your designated fate was to be a political pawn meant to be married off at a beautiful age. To protect the royal family that never considered you as one of their own, you were to marry a complete stranger one day.

However, just because you realized your place didn’t mean you accepted it. You defied the rules at every chance you saw. You remained a headache for the king, but a small enough headache to avoid his wrath.

Unbeknownst to him, you were well versed with the dirty politics of the country. Ever since you were a little girl, you would eavesdrop into the ministers’ conversations and manipulate the eunuchs to take a peak at written grievances sent to the king. You knew about the starving peasants he ignored and the bribes he received. As you grew older, you became hungry for power. When it became apparent that the king was blocking any hope for you, you were determined to take as many people down with you. You refused to suffer alone.

The king always berated you for being greedy. Greedy for education. Greedy for acknowledgement. Greedy for a life that was more than just being a good wife. He reminded you again and again that you would never have a voice in official affairs.

Every time you left his chamber after another lecture, you made sure to humiliate the embarrassment the kingdom called the crown prince. You would outshine him one way or another. Whether it be pointing out his grammar mistakes in front of the scholars or exposing his secret palace escapes to the queen, you would dampen his mood for the day. It was the only thing that gave you a speck of joy.

There was also only one thing that gave you something to look forward to. For years, you had been conspiring against the royal family. You despised the royal family and its classist, sexist, and pretentious values. You planned on getting rid of it once and for all. The kingdom deserved a leader that would rule benevolently. Slowly but surely, you gained the loyalty of several ministers. Soon enough, you would be able to execute the meticulous coup d'état.

But until then, you had to continue to be nothing but the king’s puppet. Which included meeting your fiancé. You were introduced a week ago and wedding preparations were already in full swing.

The man you would be forced to wed, Lee Juyeon, was the first son of the Chief State Councillor. You didn’t like him the moment you saw him. He was a pretty face that grew up with his father’s full love and support. He was both elegant and masculine; he was the definition of perfect and you hated it. A person had to have flaws to be likeable.

For some crazy reason you couldn’t wrap your mind around, Juyeon was infatuated with you. He visited the palace every day just to have you decline his request for a meeting. He was persistent.

Unfortunately for you, he was also crafty. He figured out that announcing his arrival to the king was an effective way to see your face. The king was delighted to see the Chief State Councillor’s son head over heels for his daughter and thus, to your annoyance, daily meetings were arranged for you two.

“Tell me, Lord Lee, what about me is worthy of your obsession?” you asked.

You were sitting at one of the gardens within the palace walls. He had insisted on the location because of its romantic beauty.

“Then tell me, Your Highness, what about me is not to your liking?” he grinned.

“Do you wish to hear the answer of the princess or the answer of Y/n?” you raised a brow, making him laugh.

“You amuse me, Princess Y/n,” he turned his head to look at the pond.

You sighed, wondering how long you had until you could return to your residence. The man next to you was oblivious to your feelings as he rambled on about the dates he wanted to take you on. He caught your attention when he mentioned sneaking you out of the palace for half a day.

“You would really risk taking me outside of the palace?” you perked up.

He was excited to see you finally engaged in the conversation and nodded profusely. He promised to set up an elaborate plan for a smooth date. Grudgingly, you accepted his offer. Your wish to see the village overwhelmed your wish to avoid your soon-to-be consort.

The next day, a court lady secretly found you to notify you of his plans. To evade the eyes of palace maids, you were to escape through a path not commonly used. She helped you scale the wall and you froze when you saw Juyeon on the other side. You sat on top of the wall and he extended his hand for support. With a tight smile, you held his hand and jumped down.

He pulled the veil over your face to keep your identity hidden, blushing when his hand slightly brushed your cheek. He hopped onto the horse and gestured for you to do the same. Hesitantly, you held his hand again to climb on.

Using the excuse of maintaining balance, he urged you to hold on tightly. You weren’t left with an option when he sped up, prompting you to instinctively hug his waist. You didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smiling like a fool.

At last, you finally arrived at the village. Fascinated at the change in environment, you looked like a child surrounded by toys. Chuckling, Juyeon admired the view in front of him. In his eyes, you were prettier than any flower and sweeter than any candy. Feeling his gaze on you, you cleared your throat and began walking.

There was so much to look at. He caught you staring at the rows of yeot and purchased the confectionery without you asking. You immediately popped one into your mouth and he laughed when your cheeks expanded to resemble a squirrel.

“Are you teasing me?” you frowned.

“No, I am appreciating your adorable and lovely appearance,” he answered as he handed you the bag holding the rest of the yeot. His words didn’t fluster you. You simply rolled your eyes and resumed walking.

His long legs were quick to catch up with you. Enjoying your presence, he watched as you fawned over little trinkets. It was a new side of you that he had never seen.

Stopping at an accessory shop, you scanned the norigaes displayed on the table. One of them caught your eye and you held it up for a closer look. It was a beautiful pale pink color that perfectly matched your current hanbok.

“It seems a norigae is better at capturing your heart than I am,” Juyeon pouted.

“Perhaps it is prettier than you,” you shrugged.

“Is this an implication that I am pretty? To a certain extent?” he beamed.

“How do my words become that?” you exclaimed.

With another laugh, he took the accessory from your grasp and went to pay for it. You blinked at the sudden sight of his back, noticing for the first time how broad his shoulders were. When he came back to your side, he held the norigae in front of you but pulled it back when you reached out for it. He pointed at the bag of yeot and opened his mouth. Baffled, you turned around to walk away.

He caught your wrist and spun you back around. He bent down and your face stopped an inch away from his. His usual shy self was gone and he had a confident smirk on his lips.

“Does your heart not sway even at a close distance like this?” he asked. This time, he caught you off guard. When you finally came back to your senses, you hurriedly shoved a piece of yeot into his mouth and stormed off.

“Y/n, you make me laugh too hard and too much!” you heard his voice call out, making you blush crimson with embarrassment.

With your upcoming wedding looming over your head, it became increasingly difficult to communicate with the ministers. There were too many eyes to be wary of. Juyeon, of course, was one of them.

As you spent more time with him, you realized how sentimental he was. He brought you small, meaningful gifts and loved to tell you about the meanings behind each flower.

“Did you know that the plum blossom is one of the indications of spring's arrival?” he asked one day. “They can bloom as early as late March.”

“I think it is quite obvious that it is spring,” you commented, pointing at the variety of flowers surrounding you.

“My personal favorite flower is the rose of sharon,” he continued. “It is nicknamed the “immortal flower” and means “eternal blossom that never fades” because of its resilience. It regrows despite harsh conditions and even after it is damaged. Amazing, isn’t it?”

You hummed, looking for the flower he was talking about.

“I used to hope that our kingdom would take after the flower. We have survived through many tragedies and I hope that we will survive through anything else that tries to beat us down,” his words pricked you for some reason. Would your rebellion be seen as a tragedy or as a heroic deed?

“Now, I like to think that our love will be like the rose of sharon. My love for you will never fade and I will continue to pine after you despite your harsh words. Even if you hurt me, my feelings will transcend time,” he smiled. “The flower does not bloom until July. My wish is to go see them with you. Would you bless me with your presence when the time comes?”

You observed his lovestruck expression and couldn’t bring yourself to say no. Again, you were at a loss trying to understand why he was so besotted with you. His childlike innocence was almost pure to a fault in a place like the palace.

“I shall consider it if you teach me how to swing a sword,” you proposed.

He couldn’t hide both his shock and happiness. He was confused as to why you wanted to ever hold a weapon but glad that you were slowly opening up to him. Without a second thought, he agreed to your proposition.

Juyeon was full of bliss at the thought of spending more time with you. Teaching you swordsmanship would allow him to be intimate with you and he was thrilled. At your first secret lesson, his heart raced at your proximity as he guided your hands on how to properly wield the blade.

A week passed by and you quickly improved each day. Eventually, you became skilled enough to land a fake jab. Seeing your proud smile, he grinned as well.

“I guess I should be on edge now. If I annoy my princess one too many times, my life will literally be at your hands,” he joked.

“Do you regret training me?” you smirked.

“Ah, was this all a part of your plan?” he pretended to gasp. “Either to kill me off or to threaten me to obedience?”

Not finding his joke funny, you blankly stared at him. Noticing the sudden chill in the atmosphere, he awkwardly laughed.

“Do not worry, Your Highness. I will always do as you say. You do not need a sword to make me behave.” he smiled.

You hated to admit it but he had grown on you. His constant attempts to tear down your wall had finally made a crack. You had to stop before he became your weakness.

For the first time in a while, you were summoned to the king’s chamber. Expecting another reprimand, you dreaded the walk there. To your surprise, however, you were greeted with a smile he hadn’t given you in years. It kind of freaked you out.

“You called for me, Your Majesty?” you bowed.

“I hear you have been getting along wonderfully with the Chief State Councillor’s son. Finally, you are fulfilling your duty as this kingdom’s princess,” he commended.

What a back-handed compliment. You wanted to roll your eyes at his passive aggressiveness. Holding back your urges, you politely smiled instead.

“I just wanted to let you know that I will be in a hurry to complete your wedding. I need the Chief State Councillor’s support to find a suitable wife for the crown prince,” he announced.

“Is my marriage merely a way for the crown prince to find a wife with a powerful family?” you shot back.

Your question turned the mood scarily sour. You felt his anger rise as he chastised you for your impudence and disrespect.

“The crown prince is the future leader of our kingdom. He is more than deserving of the immense care, thought, and effort that goes into picking his consort. His consort will be this kingdom’s queen and will be the one to bear the next king. You are nothing but a useless girl who will belong to a different family.”

“I am still a member of the royal family, am I not?”

“You are just a good-for-nothing girl that will leave this palace soon,” he spat. “Now leave. You are dismissed.”

On your way out, you ran into the crown prince who looked at you in a way you found to be offensive. You paused your steps and turned around.

“I wish you fertility, Crown Prince. After all, the kingdom relies on your performance to produce an heir to the throne,” you said, lacing your words with venom. “I would imagine you would hate having to adopt a nephew.”

You could tell you had gotten under his skin yet again and left satisfied. You loathed and condemned your family with a burning passion. You couldn’t wait for the day it would all come to a bitter end.

While you were brooding, you didn’t notice Juyeon sneaking up on you. When you finally saw him, you nearly jumped. Your hand reached out to cover your heart, trying to calm it down. Sheepishly, he apologized for startling you.

Trying to keep you from walking away from him, he held onto the hem of your sleeve. Your heart softened at the gentle manner he treated you with. Ignoring your instincts, you let him cling onto you. Instead of making you turn around to face him, he walked in front of you.

“Will you accompany me to the garden today as well?” he asked earnestly.

Knowing that the court ladies were watching, you reluctantly accepted his invitation once again. This time, he surprised you with a bag filled with yeot. He looked so proud of himself for remembering your love for the sweet treat that it made you laugh. As a reward, he grabbed a piece for himself. Unaware of the smudge it left on the corner of his lips, he was conscious of your gaze and tried to look attractive.

“Worry not, Your Highness. You will get to look at this face every day and every night once we marry,” he assured.

Despite his wise exterior, he had a goofy side to him. He was pure and innocent—everything you weren’t. You could see why the king favored him so much.

“I do not understand why you are so eager to become my consort,” you suddenly blurted. “You know that it is just a flashy title that does not award you with much privileges. It is an empty position; you cannot hold office without a special order from the king. Do you simply see yourself as a stepping stone for your father to bring honor to your family?”

“Is my love for you an acceptable response?” he asked after some thought.

“Is it truly worth your dangerous status as the princess’s husband and king’s son-in-law? The royal family has many enemies,” you warned.

“I will be the one to protect you from such enemies,” he declared.

Was he naive or has his affection for you blinded him?

“Princess Y/n,” he said solemnly as he held your hand. “I promise to love and protect you for as long as my heart beats. No, even after it ceases to beat, I will still yearn for you. I will not demand or expect you to do the same. Even if your feelings for me are not as strong as my feelings for you, I will not blame you. But will you please give me the chance to try to win you over?”

His confession triggered an alarm in your head. He was never supposed to fall for you this hard and you were never supposed to allow him to. He had no idea how cunning and conniving you really were. Only the people in the palace knew how cold-hearted you could be. You had to be in order to survive.

You refused to give him a reply and pulled your hand away. His face fell but he forced himself to smile again. In an attempt to break the tension, he made a random comment on the weather.

After you two parted, you decided to speed things up to initiate the revolt. Once you joined hands in marriage, Juyeon would inevitably end up a target as well. If you wanted to spare him, you needed to overthrow the corrupted royal family before he became a part of it.

It was officially the day before the insurrection. To be honest, you weren’t really nervous. This was what you had been anticipating your entire life.

Yet why did you have a moment of weakness when you saw Juyeon that afternoon? He approached you with that boyish smile that did wonders to your normally rational mind. Feeling what you believed was pity, you wanted to leave him with a pleasant memory.

So you ended up convincing him to sneak you out of the palace again. This time, you were a lot more enthusiastic. You wanted to try all the pastries and insisted that he taste them too.

“You seemed to have a lot on your mind these days,” he carefully pointed out. “Has the problem that has been bothering you been resolved now?”

“It will soon,” you eluded.

You stared at the man in front of you, observing his features. He was, without a doubt, good looking. You could see why all the court ladies, palace maids, and girls of the village were so smitten with him. But you still didn’t get why he chose you to fawn over. Maybe it was because of the lack of affection you grew up with but something about having someone care for you was unsettling.

You had suitors court you before but none of them were as devoted as Juyeon. He always came off as genuine. Perhaps his sincerity was what made you lower your guard.

“I promise to lavish you with such outings if that is what makes you happy,” he proclaimed, almost making you laugh.

“Why do you make so many vows?” you inquired.

“I am a man who keeps his word and you are the only one I give it to,” he grinned. You wondered how happy he had to be to smile so often. You rarely had reasons to be smiling.

He glanced down at the table and examined the rows of binyeos. Holding one up, he held the hair pin against your hair.

“May I gift you this binyeo?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, feeling just a tad bit of guilt. You were used to being showered with extravagance but with Juyeon, it was different. There was an emotional value attached to each present.

“Only if you promise me one other thing,” you negotiated.

“Of course. I will do anything you ask of me,” he responded.

“Promise me that you will not visit the palace tomorrow,” you said sternly. He looked at you with curiosity.

“Tomorrow is… a day of mourning for me. I do not wish to see you until the day after,” you lied.

“This is the first time you have expressed your desire to see me,” he lit up at your last sentence. “I will prepare a magnificent date for when I see you over-morrow.”

You almost felt sorry for his naiveté. And you almost—just almost—felt sorry for deceiving him.

The fateful day arrived at last. You stood, taking one last glimpse at your reflection. Subconsciously, your hand reached out to touch the binyeo in your hair.

The roars of the royal guards and the clanks of combat rumbled throughout the palace. With a determined look, you left your chamber. The sword in your clenched fist dragged across the ground as you made your way to the throne hall.

When you finally busted through the door, the king sat as if he had been waiting for you.

“I should have known that this was your doing,” he scowled. “Was your luxurious life as a princess not enough for you? Could you not fight the temptation of avarice?”

“Nothing about my life was ever comfortable,” you corrected. “I always had to play along to match your mood in order to avoid being married off to an old man just out of your spite. You tried to drill your toxic mentality in me because my individuality terrified you. You made it a point to constantly tear me down. So I made it a point to see your demise.”

“You have always been this sly ever since you were a little girl. I knew I would regret your birth the moment I saw your eyes. And I was right. You are nothing but a vile bitch.”

“For the longest time, I thought I was deserving of your hatred. But I came to the realization that you simply belittled me just for being a girl. Do not forget, Your Majesty, that the womb inside me is the same as the one that bore you the crown prince.”

Mockingly, you approached the throne. It was incredible how that one seat gave its owner immense power.

“Speaking of which, why is it that only men carry on the family name?” you questioned. “Do you not realize that women are the ones who carry on the precious bloodline you always speak of? It is the body of women that conceive and grow another human inside them. It is the body of women that suffer through labor to deliver you children and nurture them to good health. The only thing you do is spread your seeds like a fruit. And then blame women for your own infertility.”

“All throughout history, it has been men who carried on the royal bloodline. What makes you think that you are worthy of special treatment?”

“Bloodline, bloodline, bloodline,” you rolled your eyes in irritation. “Do not fool yourself. It is not blood you care about but name. Men may carry on the nameline but we are the ones who give you the royal blood pumping in your veins.”

You sloppily lifted the sword to the king’s neck, smirking.

“I knew you would be the one to bring my downfall,” he glared.

“Well, how does it feel to have all your fears come true, my king?” you taunted. “You were always afraid that I would either surpass you or ruin you. Now, I will be the one to end this damned bloodline. This good-for-nothing girl will take back the royal blood that was given to you by a woman.”

With that, you slashed his neck. Blood splattered across the wall and on your face. You grimaced, wiping away the warm liquid. You were surprisingly calm in front of such a gruesome sight. That was, until Juyeon came bursting through the door.

After he had parted from you the day before, he could not get you out of his mind. Something about your eyes had been melancholic. Your words sounded like a foreshadow and it left him feeling disturbed. So he broke his promise and went to the palace to see you again. He was alarmed to see the chaos ensuing and immediately searched for you. However, he never expected the situation he stumbled into.

“P-Princess Y/n,” he stuttered, making you aim the weapon at yourself. You never intended or wanted him to witness this.

“Do not come any closer,” you warned.

“Your Highness, please. Put the sword down,” he begged.

“I cannot,” you gulped. “This is how it must end.”

“We-we can run away. Together. We can leave everything behind and I will keep you safe,” he said as he tried his best to stay calm.

You wanted to both laugh and cry. Your life was a suicidal mission. You knew from the beginning that you would not be able to survive. If you failed, you would be executed for treason. If you succeeded, you would be executed to officially end the royal bloodline.

You had to admit, you slightly wavered at one point. Juyeon’s promise to make you happy was enticing. To someone who never strayed close to emotions before, he was like a miracle. He made you feel all sorts of things that you were glad to have experienced.

“I apologize, Lord Lee,” you sadly smiled before you stabbed the blade into your stomach.

“No!” he screamed as he ran to your side.

You slowly fell to the ground with Juyeon’s arms wrapped around your body. His hands shook above the wound as he cried, knowing that he couldn’t take it out without ensuring your death. He never thought that what he taught you would be used against yourself. If he had known that this was what you planned on using your skills for, he never would have taken your offer.

“I am afraid I will not be able to go see the rose of sharons with you,” you said as a tear escaped your eyes.

Your vision began to cloud and you felt the life in you leave with every breath you took. You didn’t even realize that your hand was gripping his clothes, crinkling it. Another tear rolled down your cheek as your head fell back, your neck unable to support it any longer.

He desperately clung onto you, holding your head in his bloodied hands.

“I will bring the flowers to you,” he affirmed.

“Another promise,” you chuckled.

“This one I will be sure to keep,” he stated as his own tears fell to your face.

Next to the weapon embedded in you was the norigae he bought you the first time you escaped the palace together. He looked up to see that you were wearing the binyeo he bought you as well. He sobbed, holding onto you tighter.

“I hope to be reborn as a rose of sharon. That way, I can come see you every spring,” you whispered before you closed your eyes for the last time.

tag list: @dearseungie​ @cuppasunu​ @reverienostalgia​ @elcie-chxn​ @parfaitz​​ @lovelyutas​ @mochinyu​ @leejaeyeons​

[aminiatureworld]

Affection II

Characters: Childe, Ganyu, Kaeya, gn!reader

Word Count: 5,577

Warnings: None

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: Evidently I’ve really missed writing these properly. I had such a great time writing, and I hope you guys enjoy these just as much as I did.

Also I’ve decided the version on Ao3 will now always be without bullet points, so if you prefer that format the link will be in the reblog.

Childe

You’d been floored by Childe pretty much since the day you two had met.

What had turned into the two of you meeting had started out a most unfavorable encounter. You’d gone to Lingju Pass, trying to survey some of the carvings of the old structure, and attempting to see the sort of methods used to construct such vast rocky complexes at the time. Unfortunately this goal had quickly turned into a goal of “don’t get caught”, as you’d found the Pass crawling with Fatui members. Though you weren’t nearly helpless, you’d also not come prepared for battle; and had spent most of the “fight” dodging around various blows while trying not to drop the expensive equipment that you’d borrowed from other Guild members.

Just as you’d come to the conclusion that the options were either drop everything and run or get thoroughly injured by a bunch of arrogant Snezhnayan soldiers there was a change in the air. The Fatui soldiers’ expression turned from one of glee to one of confusion, and then one of panic, as one by one a streak of blue began to throw them this way and that. As you regained focus of the terrain your realized that it wasn’t a streak at all but a person, a person who was wildly adept at sword play. Eventually the number of unconscious people had risen to five, and there was no one left but him and you.

“Need any help?”

The words might’ve been kind, had it not been for the smirk on the man’s face. Though you felt that the right answers would’ve probably been to scowl, you found you couldn’t, too wrapped up in the memory of this mysterious person darting this way and that, handling his water-made daggers with the grace of a ballet dancer.

“I’m Childe.” These words finally brought you back to the present.

“You’re a member of the Fatui.”

“I am.”

“Then why did you knock those guys out just now?”

“Boredom.”

You stared at Childe incredulously. Of course you’d heard his name, the man who, it was whispered, almost pulled Liyue into the sea. You’d formed a sort of mental picture of him completely divorced from the redhead now standing in front of you, bouncing slightly on his feet as he smiled cockily. He looked more like a rogue adventurer than one of the heads of a crime syndicate. Maybe that was why you found yourself infatuated, rather than afraid.

This infatuation only grew, fed by the encounters that you had with Childe. It seemed now you couldn’t avoid him, not that you wanted to. What had begun as a chance encounter multiplied into two, into four; soon enough you two had struck up a sort of friendship, one that baffled everyone else around you.

Of course you hadn’t lost all your sense, knowing quite well that the puppy love you were feeling could never be anything more. The way Childe talked about his work, about his duty to the Tsaritsa, made it very clear that he wouldn’t let a partner in his life or in his loyalties. And even if he changed his mind, why would he choose you? You were an adventurer sure, but you hadn’t even been able to properly defend yourself the first time the two of you met, and your oversight of that would’ve surely turned Childe away. Besides, Childe could probably make a partner out of anyone he wanted, if they were foolish enough. Why should that person be you?

Perhaps it was that knowledge that allowed you to be so free in your affection, spurred on by Childe’s own open nature. Hand holding, hugging, leaning one’s head on the other’s shoulder, it was the language of friendship that you two had adopted, and something that you greatly appreciated. There was something nice about a friendship in which one could be so open about caring about someone, without expecting things to go farther. Because you didn’t, you really didn’t. And though that might’ve been a bit painful, it was a small price to pay for Childe’s company.

“I’m going off to Mondstadt for a bit.”

“What?”

You drew away from Childe a bit to look into his face. The two of you were walking along the path towards Yaoguang Shoal, as Childe had taken a particular liking to the Starconches that lined its shores. Now he smiled awkwardly, squeezing your hand and shrugging his shoulders.

“I know, I know. There’s apparently this branch of the Fatui holed up there right now, and I’ve been asked to consult about something, though archons know what it is.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure, I think about two weeks? I’m not sure what exactly is going on, but the troops really must be in disarray if they need me skulking around for the next two weeks.” He let out a awkward laugh.

“I’ll miss you.” You replied, bumping your head into his shoulder and frowning. “It’s very boring without you.”

“I’m sure you’ll be perfectly capable without me.” Childe smiled, one eyebrow raised slightly. “After all, what would you do if I left someday, permanently. You’d have to find a way without me.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” You replied hurriedly, switching the conversation towards something more pleasant. Unfortunately however the words had already been said, and the damage had already been done.

It had been two weeks since Childe had left for Mondstadt, and though normally you might’ve been waiting at the city gates for his return, you found yourself on the familiar road towards Lingju. Childe’s words had been ringing in your ears for the past two weeks, and you’d found the more time passed the more you kept thinking about them.

What would you do if I left someday, permanently. Is that what Childe truly wanted? To leave? The idea made your stomach hurt, as you began once more to run all your interactions through your head, as if trying to find a flaw in the strips of memory you had of Childe. Was that what Childe truly wanted, or was it simply that he was sick of you? When he’d said “you’d have to find a way without me” did that mean he wanted to find a way without you? Perhaps you’d been too forward, too demanding. Perhaps he’d managed to realize your feelings and felt repelled by them. Had it been too much, meeting him almost everyday for some periods of time, eating lunch together and sometimes dinner. What about that time you’d invited him over to your house to play a game? Had that been too much?

You sighed, dragging yourself over the final ridge. Sitting down to take a rest you closed you eyes. You hated that your mind wandered this way, that no matter what you couldn’t help but ask yourself again and again, what had you done. What would Childe think about this sad person laying on the ground, the sad part was you couldn’t answer that question.

The sound of footsteps brought you back to the present, and you let out a suppressed groan at the figures in your line of sight.

“Don’t you guys ever get posted anywhere else?” You rolled your eyes, reaching behind your back to summon your polearm.

“You’re trespassing.” The voice that came out of the Electro Vanguard was so deep and distorted as to be hilarious.

“Lastly I checked you were neither a citizen of Liyue, nor Rex Lapis, so if anyone’s “trespassing” on public territory it’s you.” You sighed. “Oh well. Unfortunately you caught me on a day where I’m somewhat prepared.” With that you lunged towards the Hydro Legionnaire and the fight began.

Fighting when one is already frustrated is both a blessing and a curse. The fight itself was almost invigorating, the first Fatui hit the ground and with it you felt part of your worries fade away, if only for the small window of time which this fight offered. Was this why Childe fought so much? The though crossed your mind as you whirled behind the Pyro Bracer and pressed as much Electro as you dared into the back of his head, tripping him with the staff of your polearm on his way down.

Soon enough there was only you and the Electro Vanguard left. Unfortunately you were beginning to feel the other side affect of anger, that being misfocus. Being more versed in using your polearm as a sort of lightning rod your found the Vanguard much harder to deal with, more than once barely diving out of the way of the hammer he was swinging around, surprisingly light on his feet considering what the weight must be. Your anger was quickly draining, turning into something more akin to panic, and as you found yourself stumbling more and more you realized that today was really, really not your day.

The Vanguard was becoming aware of how fast you were tiring, a gravelly sort of laugh emerging from behind his mask. As you found your with you back to the slope you wondered if it was just worth it to make an escape. The Fatui swung his hammer once more, barreling towards you. Having nothing left to do you put your polearm out in front of you, hoping that your arms were strong enough not to recoil against the inevitable blow. Closing your eyes you thought of nothing, drowning in a sea of panic. If there was any coherent part of your brain it wished that you weren’t here, that you just stayed home, or swallowed you pride and gone to the gate. But it was too late now, and you were about to get hit.

However the blow never landed, instead a loud sound pierced the air. Whipping your arms open you saw the Electro Vanguard stumble, his hammer having been dropped on the ground. He was grasping towards his ankle, in which was stuck an arrow, glowing a faint aquamarine. Swearing the Fatui member glanced around, before stumbling away, dragging his weapon and his left leg behind him like dead weight.

“Some things never change, huh?”

“Childe!” You whirled towards your once again savior, face burning from embarrassment. “I took out the rest of them this time.”

“I can see that,” said Childe, surveying the area, a telltale smirk on his face, “very impressive. Although, if I may suggest, next time try to take out the Electro Vanguard first, especially since you don’t wield a weapon made for pure damage.”

“Is this turning into a teaching moment?”

“Absolutely not.” Childe laughed.

You found the sound catching, and soon a smile spread across your face as you let your polearm disappear once more. You ran up to Childe, and were about to throw you arms around his neck in a characteristic hug, when the thoughts of before came ramming back into your brain. Taking a step back you planted your arms firmly in front of you, hoping that maybe Childe hadn’t noticed what you’d been about to do.

However Childe approached you instead.

“You weren’t at the gate today.” He said coyly, lips drifting somewhere between a smirk and a frown.

“I’m sorry.” You lowered your head. “I just thought, well maybe that would be better. Since you said you might be leaving permanently and all, and since you were right when you said I’d have to figure things out without you, I don’t know, I thought maybe it’d be for the best.”

Looking up the expression on Childe’s face could only be described as one of complete disbelief. For a moment he stayed frozen in place.

“What in Teyvat do you mean I’m leaving permanently?”

“You said that! Remember… when we were going to pick sea shells you said that you were leaving.” You stepped back, cheeks flushed. “Or maybe you were just sort of sick of me or something.”

“Why would you ever think that?” Childe walked up to you, enveloping one of the hands at your side in his own and bringing it up towards him.

“I… I don’t know,” you replied, feeling very confused and very foolish, “I thought maybe that I was being too affectionate, or too clingy. I mean I know you don’t like me or anything like that. And I thought maybe that I was crossing the boundaries of our friendship.”

“I don’t like you? I’ve liked you since almost the first day we’ve met!”

“Not like that! I mean, like like, you know? As in… well, as in I… I love you.” You let your voice peter out.

“I love you too!” Childe let out. Shaking his head he smiled widely. “That’s what I’m trying to say. I’ve liked you since almost the first time we’ve met. I wasn’t trying to shoo you away.”

“What?” Your brain was short circuiting. Something had gone terribly wrong. You’d definitely been knocked out at some point, and was now hallucinating. There was no way Childe liked you, loved you. He could love anyone, why would he love you.

Childe stepped closer, moving so that your foreheads were almost pressed together.

“May I?” He whispered, voice almost shy. You nodded, a just as small “yes” escaping your lips before Childe cut off your ability to say anything more. It was a short kiss, sweet and chaste, and yet you felt everything around you suddenly come into sharp, almost lucid clarity. You weren’t dreaming. This was happening. This was Childe and he liked you. Childe like you. He liked you, he really liked you.

“Why?” You let out, when the two of you separated. Thankfully Childe remained close to you, being without his presence now would’ve been quite lonely.

“Why what?”

“Why me? I’m not, I don’t know, I can’t even knock out an Electro Vanguard without help.”

Childe let out a laugh, lovely as music.

“I don’t know,” he replied, eyes sparkling, “because you’re you. And I like you.”

And all of a sudden you found that that was enough.

 Ganyu

The days that you accompanied Ganyu on her various errands were the ones in which you were most aware that you were on a level utterly below her.

Of course humans could never really measure up to adepti, after all they made the world and humans simply lived in it. Still in terms of humans, well you weren’t exactly pushing exceptional. If Ganyu represented all that was exceptional about the adepti, well then you represented the average human who didn’t like their job and overall went about their day as unnoticeable as an ant on the road.

Of course Ganyu never acted in a way that would betray the imbalance between the two of you. Indeed Ganyu was nothing if not kind, sweet, and utterly without a semblance of hierarchy. It was one of the things that you adored about her, the straightforward honesty she carried with her, and the way that she appeared not to judge living beings on a scale, even if that was the right of those who were higher and didn’t have to worry about said scale.

“Can you carry this for me?” Ganyu’s voice was soft and somewhat hesitant. You smiled widely, knowing that Ganyu simply had difficulty asking other people for help.

“Of course I can!” Scooping up the package that was stretched out towards you, you saw Ganyu let out a short sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

“Of course! I’m always happy to help you. Where are we taking this?”

“Over to the funeral parlor. It seems that there are some tiles in here that are being used for a specific ritual. Hu Tao said that the family wanted it, I hope she doesn’t actually mean she pushed them towards it.” Ganyu let out a soft sigh. “She once suggested advertising for cremation. Somehow I feel that won’t exactly be welcomed by the people.”

“No one likes to be reminded of their own mortality. Ah, but Hu Tao is doing her best, and if these tiles end up being insulators, I suppose we can’t do much about it. I’ll make sure not to drop them anyways. Getting on Hu Tao’s bad side feels like asking for a prank.”

“You’re probably right.” Ganyu chuckled.

You blushed slightly, loving the way her laugh sounded, soft and open. You knew Ganyu struggled sometimes; she admitted to you herself that it was very difficult to live an existence defined by liminality. Was she an adeptus? Was she a human? She was neither, and yet both would claim her and call her other. In understanding this Ganyu had retreated into herself. Perhaps that’s why her laugh meant so much.

As you strolled down the docks an angry voice cut through the air.

“Qixing!”

Both of you turning around you saw Bolai, heaving slightly, teetering his way towards you. His face was stormy, and for a moment you wondered if someone had stolen something. His words when he caught up however revealed a very different motivation.

“I demand justice!”

“What for?” Ganyu asked, voice deadly serious once more.

“What for? For what Huixin said in regards to me! For the Liyue Qixing complying with disgusting rumors as to the ways in which I conduct my business and my finances. As to the way that you promised to help me then turned on me!”

“I see…” Ganyu sighed as you wracked your brain, trying to remember what she’d told you about the time that she and the traveler ran around trying to detangle various examples of tax fraud. “Have you considered putting up a formal complaint?” Ganyu meanwhile was still trying to keep professional, something that you admired her for.

“How am I supposed to trust the Qixing after what happened? No! I demand compensation now!”

“Sir, I’m sure you’re quite upset, but there’s no need to act in such a way. If you wish to clear your name, then we can meet in private and review the testimony and documents we received. If not, then I’m afraid there is nothing I can do for you. I’m very sorry.”

Ganyu turned back towards the direction in which you two had been previously walking. Evidently too agitated to think properly Bolai let out a strangled cry.

“We’re not finished yet!” Reaching out, he seemed to be attempting to turn Ganyu around by the shoulder. Having been standing there unthinking you now moved to block the action, knowing that Bolai didn’t really mean anything by it, but not trusting the man who looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Bolai’s hand instead smacked into the box in your hands, which slipped from your grip and fell to the floor in a great crash.

Time seemed to slow down somewhat after this, as Bolai stepped backwards and Ganyu turned around, face one of evident horror at the scene. You felt your face begin to burn as you looked at the unassuming box, which now looked a little bit the worse for wear.

“What…” Ganyu trailed off. Bolai waved his hands about in a panicked sort of way.

“That wasn’t me! That wasn’t my fault! It was this person they… I don’t know what they were thinking, getting in the way like that. How idiotic! This is nothing but a mess, a disgrace!”

Normally you wouldn’t pay Bolai’s words any mind, but now they seemed to pierce right through, as you realized all the trouble you’d just caused Ganyu. Glancing over towards her you found you could neither look her in the eyes nor stay where you were.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered. Moving to pick up the box you found your hand hesitating. Fearing that you’d just make things worse you pulled yourself and dashed in the opposite direction, speeding up the docks and towards the outskirts of the city.

Normally the view from Mount Tianheng was one that stole your breath away. Today however the mountain seemed completely uninteresting, especially when compared to the thoughts racing in your head.

How had you gotten here, how had you messed up so much? Ganyu didn’t need your posturing, your attempt to help. She was an adeptus for Morax’s sake! And who were you? Someone who couldn’t even carry a box from Point A to Point B. And now you’d just caused more trouble for Ganyu, when she already had so much to do.

“I’m such a failure.” You groaned into your palms.

“You aren’t!” You lifted your head at the soft exclamation, already knowing who the voice belonged to. Ganyu sidled up to the ledge of the mountain silently, fidgeting with her hands. “May I sit next to you?”

“Of course.” You replied, grateful that Ganyu was even talking to you. Smiling softly the Qixing Emissary let out a soft sigh.

“I love the view of the city from here.” She spoke softly, eyes on the horizon.

“I do too.”

“There’s something so lovely about watching everyone go about their day, isn’t there? To see the people work in harmony to bring prosperity and peace to the city of Liyue. To see how everyone continues on the legacy of Rex Lapis.”

“That’s a lot to see.” You joked, still feeling a little uncomfortable, as if Ganyu might in a minute get up and leave.

“But can’t you see it?” Ganyu’s voice was earnest and her eyes shined. “It’s wonderful how people do it, how they continue to make this city thrive, to keep the contracts of Morax alive and within living memory.”

“Perhaps it’s just harder for humans to judge it themselves?”

“Perhaps.” Ganyu’s expression shifted into something, almost shy, not quite melancholic. “Just like how you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself.”

“I’m so sorry Ganyu. I don’t know what I was thinking! I just… I just, wasn’t thinking.”

“You were trying to be kind.” Ganyu replied, something almost akin to blush coating her cheeks. “And I have to thank you for that.”

“But I just caused more trouble…”

“You were trying to be kind,” Ganyu repeated, “like I said, you’re finding it difficult to forgive yourself. But you have to. You didn’t truly do anything that needs forgiveness.”

“But I was doing it for completely selfish reasons!” You blurted out, embarrassment and doubt turning into the words you never wanted to utter. “It’s because I like you, and not just because I was trying to be nice. But because, because maybe I wanted to do something for you, and then maybe I’d be good enough maybe.” Realizing how odd that just sounded you turned your head away. For a moment your words hung in the air, and the longer the silence continued the longer you thought about how utterly selfish you were.

“Thank you.” There was a smile in Ganyu’s voice, and as you turned your head once more you could see it plastered across her face.

“For what?”

“For telling me you like me.”

“But… but isn’t it just burdening you? After all I’m not good enough for you.”

“You are!” Ganyu’s voice was firm. “You’re absolutely good enough for me. And what you did, you call it selfishness, but I don’t understand that. Being kind to people you like isn’t selfish, even if you like them. Because this time you were genuinely helping me. Besides, if that’s selfish then I’ve also been terribly selfish.”

“How?”

“By asking you to accompany me everywhere. Because maybe, maybe I like you too.”

For a moment you wondered if you hadn’t accidentally slipped off the cliff, so weightless did you feel. A bit lightheaded you leaned forward.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Ganyu smiled nervously. Reaching out she took your hand in hers.

The two of you watched the sun set over the city of contracts mostly in silence. Every once in a while there would be a spurt of conversation, but mostly there was nothing but the sounds of the birds and the cicadas, and the pounding of two hearts, hearts both a bit ragged from the events of the day.

For what a day it had been. And how wonderfully it had ended.

 Kaeya

If you could use anything as justification for your crush on Kaeya, he did flirt with you. Unfortunately he also flirted with everyone else in Mondstadt.

“How’s my favorite knight of Favonius?” Kaeya’s cocky voice was clear as a bell, and for a moment your heart flipped as the handsome knight came into view, smile as lovely as it had been the day before.

“Blessed by the presence of our beloved cavalry captain.” You replied in a singsong voice.

The first time Kaeya had used that line on you it felt like your soul had left your body and your heart had run a marathon. Unfortunately you’d heard him use practically the same line on Rosaria the next day, his favorite mysterious nun, robbing you of your fantasy in which Kaeya had any interest for you.

Your banter however was not without genuine feeling. You were utterly infatuated with Kaeya, having fallen for the handsome knight about two weeks into your own training. Originally having been an adventurer you’d joined the knights relatively recently after a series of Abyss attacks on the City of Freedom. As such Kaeya had by then already occupied an exalted position among the ranks, and the hours of being trained, teased, and flirted at by the mysterious cavalry captain had been enough to throw you head over heels.

Not that you’d ever expect things to develop more than they already had. Having a crush on the flirtiest man in Mondstadt did mean that you were praised every once in a while, but it also meant that the praise meant little more than empty words, and that there was always someone else who had heard them. Not that you begrudged those people, not knowing them or not caring. It was Kaeya’s right to be as he was, flirty and irreverent; and you’d never ask him to change that part of himself, or any other.

To do so would be to change the person you’d grown to love.

You trotted up the steps of the Favonius headquarters, opening the door with a slight “oof” before stepping into the cool building. Today was going to be a quiet sort of day for the knights, and you’d been assigned to pick up a few books from Jean’s office to be recorded by Lisa before being sent off to the Church. Going to open the door you paused at the voices inside.

“– saying it’s nothing.”

“And I’m saying that it’s becoming a distraction. I don’t want to control your actions Kaeya, but this pining has been slowing down your work, and we need you as one of our most crucial members to be on top of things.”

“I’m not pining.”

“What do you mean you aren’t pining,” Jean let out a snort, “as if it’s not obvious to everyone around you. Look, I’m not saying you have to break things off –”

“Good, because they haven’t even begun.”

“Then maybe that’s part of your problem. Maybe if you told them you liked them then you’d be able to get back on track.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“You aren’t doing anything. And that’s the problem.”

You didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, having made your way over to the library as to make sure that you were get caught, and to cool your head in regards to what you’d just heard.

So Kaeya liked someone. You shouldn’t’ve really been surprised. Kaeya was a wonderful person; intelligent, good with a weapon, polite, handsome. What person wouldn’t fall in love with him? And when everyone’s in love with you, well, it was unsurprising that eventually Kaeya would find someone who he loved back just as much. Then, why did it hurt?

You fought the urge to wrack your brain for the people Kaeya spoke most about, finding the act beneath you. Still, your mind wandered. Perhaps it was Rosaria after all, or maybe it was only because you remembered her. Perhaps it was the sword smith who came twice monthly to check up on the weaponry. Or perhaps it was the tailor, who could sew anything with the utmost care. Or perhaps it was a musician, or an archivist, or another knight. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

Your head swam and you found your eyes stinging. Now wasn’t the time to cry, not when you needed to honor your appointment with Jean, not when you were somewhere where any one of your colleagues might discover you. Not where Kaeya might walk in any minute and realize what you’d done. This thought finally brought you out of the spiral of your mind. Making sure that any tears that might’ve escaped were wiped away you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before you walked out of the library and into Jean’s office.

Evidently you must’ve looked much worse than you thought, for Jean took one look at you and ordered you home, grumbling about how much trouble there had been recently. You thanked her half-heartedly before making your way out of the Headquarters, heart heavy as lead. At least work would’ve been a welcome distraction.

Arriving home you saw what Jean meant. Though you weren’t particularly teary, your face had taken on an ashen pallor that made it look like you’d either just gotten a shock, fainted, or had suddenly contracted consumption. Letting out a sigh you collapsed on the couch of your apartment. You knew you should probably do something, should eat or work on some extra work or something. But right now you didn’t want to do any of that. You just wanted to forget.

The knock that sounded at your door was extremely unwelcome, and you bit back bitter words as you made your way over to the door. Any protest however was silenced at the sight of Kaeya, hair slightly tussled, expression opaque, on your doorstep.

“Kaeya.” You meant to sound more peppy, but the action felt too tiring. “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure that you’re alright. Jean told me that you looked unwell, and we can’t have our best knight getting sick, now can we?”

“I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

You went to turn around, when Kaeya reached over and place his hand on your forehead. Freezing you let out a sound somewhere between a strangled cry and a shriek. Kaeya didn’t react to this however, or the red quickly spreading across the bridge of your nose. Instead he let out a sigh, before smiling, something which also caused your heart to seize up.

“Not running a fever. I’m glad. Do you know what’s wrong by any chance?”

“Yes. No! I mean, I think, I, I just need rest.”

“You can tell me if something’s wrong. I might not be able to help, but I can try. Consider it the duty of the Cavalry Captain. Have to keep up appearances, even among the ranks.”

“Really Kaeya, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.” Kaeya’s eye seemed to pierce through your soul. “You seem… upset, exhausted. Please, let me help.”

“I can’t…” Your voice cracked and you turned your head away, mortified by your inability to control yourself.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Kaeya’s voice was filled with sudden worry. “Is someone doing something to you?”

“No! No one is. I just can’t because, because it’d be selfish.”

“What do you mean?” Kaeya’s tone had become utterly perplexed, and for a moment you felt the crazy urge to laugh. As if it wasn’t painfully obvious why you couldn’t. This was so tiring. You were so tired.

“Because it’s not fair of me to take away your happiness just because of my own feelings.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I heard you talking to Jean,” you explain, face burning, “she said that you liked someone. Or maybe you did, I don’t remember. Anyways you like someone and it’s not fair of that to hurt me, I have no right to your feelings. But, but it hurts, it really, really hurts.”

The silence when you finished was miserable. You weren’t even looking up at Kaeya, not wanting to see the destruction of a friendship you valued so much.

“Have you considered that the person I’m so infatuated with might be you?”

When you looked up you caught a wave of emotions, similar in strength to the ones currently going through you, plastered over Kaeya’s face. Happiness, sadness, regret, relief; all these things danced in his eyes. In that moment you loved him even more for it, for knowing that he understood, and that he too couldn’t hide the affects of having someone you loved so close and yet so far.

Saying nothing you walked over and slowly stretched your hand out. Kaeya took the hand in his, and you reveled in the small intimacy, in his calloused fingers enveloping yours.

“I’m not good enough.” You pointed out, voice soft.

“You aren’t the one who decides who I love.” Kaeya replied, voice firm. “To me there is no one else worthy in the world. Only you. And I hope that I can be the same for you, that I can be worthy.”

“Yes. Oh yes.”

For Kaeya was more than simply worthy. He was the one you loved the most, as well as the one who’d now made you the happiest person you could ever dream of.

[bubblesuga]

Sleep

“the world is brighter than the sun now that you’re here...” 

Summary: Yoongi has never felt more relaxed than he has while in your arms

W/C: 2,047

Genre: Fluff

Tags: brief mention of ass

A/N: Apparently I’m not done with this soft shit yet. Soft Yoongi kills me.

Yoongi’s feet carry him into the only room he knows will be empty. 

It was moving day and Yoongi was completely unprepared. Sure, he knew that he was basically going to be rebuilding his set up from the bottom to the top, he just didn’t realize that would also include constantly helping Hoseok and Namjoon with theirs as well. Yoongi prides himself on being quite knowledgeable about musical tech but sometimes it’s overwhelming.

He walks quickly, dodging people and ignoring the calls of his name because he knows he’ll get wrapped into helping someone else with some nonsensical tech ‘problem’, taking up even more time and raising his anxiety beyond what he can manage on his own. 

Sticking his master key into the door, he realizes it’s already unlocked. He grits his teeth for a moment and tries to think of another place where he could possibly get some peace and quiet. Unfortunately for him, he hears Jimin calling Yoongi’s name and it’s either entering this room or getting dragged away from his rest. 

The door slowly creaks open and he peeks inside, seeing that it’s dimly lit and quiet. What’s supposed to be a vocal practice room has yet to become so, the shell of a computer laying on the floor and a very tired intern sleeping beside it. 

Yoongi instantly smiles. 

You began working at the company a little less than 3 months ago, and you were learning fast. What would normally take people years to learn, you were consuming in weeks and Yoongi was impressed. You had signed on in an attempt to learn more about producing, which lead you to work with pdogg and Yoongi relatively closely. As a result, Yoongi’s first instinct isn’t to wake you up and tell you off for sleeping on the job. Instead, he lays beside you, mirroring your body. 

Your eyebrows are scrunched and a frown overtakes your lips, showing that you have been just as stressed as Yoongi. He reaches his hand forward to run his thumb along the crease in your brow but stops himself, his hand pulling back quickly. 

It’s definitely not the first time he’s thought about pressing a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to ease your mind. As you were helping pack away the recording equipment near the studio, Yoongi could see the way you blew air out of your mouth and attempted to wipe away your stress with the back of your hand. Then, Yoongi wanted to wrap his arms around you and reassure you that you were doing everything right. 

You stir and Yoongi scoots a little further away, the pout on your lip softening but the crease in your brow just as strong. 

Yoongi has always found you incredibly beautiful, but it baffles him that even in your sleep you somehow manage to look ethereal. 

He debates on waking you, hearing constant footsteps outside the door that caused him to worry that you’ll be caught sleeping-- or that he’ll be caught watching you. 

A sigh leaves his lips and he reaches over, resting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing softly, “____, it’s time to wake up.” 

You stir again, this time opening your eyes briefly. You gasp, jumping at the sight of Yoongi. He chuckles, “Be lucky I was the one who caught you and not someone else.” 

You blink, your heart thudding in your chest loud enough for Yoongi to hear. For a moment he thinks it’s because you’ve seen him, but he remembers that he scared you awake. 

“What are you doing in my nap spot?” You question, a whiny tone to your voice that makes Yoongi’s heart flutter. 

“Arguably, you’re in my nap spot.” Yoongi bites back, trying to hide the way his cheeks turn red when you mirror him again. 

You giggle, “It’s both of our nap spot.” 

“Ah, does that mean you’re going back to sleep?” 

“No,” you shake your head, wiping away the sleep from your eyes, “I have to finish setting up the computer and making sure everything runs correctly.” 

Yoongi sits up, tugging the computer tower to him and plugging in all the wires to the correct input. You open your mouth to protest but Yoongi sends a glance your way and continues setting up. Funnily enough, he doesn’t mind helping you. Rather, he sometimes wonders if that’s what he was searching for in the first place. Maybe it wasn’t peace and quiet he wanted, maybe it was just your presence. 

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing my job for me. I’m going to have to learn some time,” you say after a few moments of watching Yoongi work, “how else am I going to become a badass producer like you?” 

Yoongi smiles shyly at the compliment, reaching backward and scratching behind his ear, a nervous habit he wishes he could get rid of. “I like helping you.” is the only thing he can bring himself to say. 

“Well, you can only help me so much, Mr. Min.” you point a finger in his direction, and Yoongi rolls his eyes as he continues to work. 

He stands up and turns on the tower and the monitor, allowing the computer to boot up and sitting back down beside you. He sits much closer to you than before, and takes notice in the way you don’t make an attempt to move. 

“All done.” he whispers softly, clearing his throat in the process. 

You nod, “Of course I fell asleep just before the easiest part.” 

“Eh, it’s okay,” before Yoongi realizes what he’s doing, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, “you needed the rest. It’s been a long day.” 

Again, you don’t move away from him. Instead, you rest your head on his shoulder and cuddle up closer to him. Something about the atmosphere of the small room makes Yoongi feel bold, and his hand rubs up and down your shoulder. Despite not knowing you for long, you’re the person who he finds the easiest to talk to. 

“It’s been a long day for you as well.” 

“Mhm, which is why I came to nap but you were already in here.” He teasingly reaches forward and pinches your nose, which causes you to push his hand away and clasp it in yours to prevent him from doing it again. Yoongi instantly prays you don’t notice the way his hand shakes in yours, but he realizes you do with the way your thumb moves to stroke his. 

“I’m not stopping you from napping,” she replies, “you can nap all you want.” 

In an oddly bold move, Yoongi grins, “Can I use you as a pillow?” 

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised, “What part of me?” 

Yoongi’s mouth runs dry at your question, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly while he tries to find an answer to your question. You don’t give him the chance, though, as you lay on your back and pull him down with you. 

With a giggle, you pull Yoongi’s head to your chest and softly run your fingers through the section of hair behind his ear. Yoongi wordlessly follows your lead, wrapping his arms around your midriff and trying to calm his breathing. The heat that radiates off your body causes Yoongi to flush, but at the same time he begins to slow his breathing. 

“Comfy?” you question. 

“Y- yes.” he responds, allowing himself to fall solely into you. The way your fingers run through his hair makes him feel like this is where he’s meant to be. It reminds him of the touch of a previous lover, who softly coaxed him to sleep after a night out. Yet, it’s different with you as well. Your nails are longer, they send chills down his spine, and the bare skin that resides in the V cut of your shirt seems to fit his face perfectly. 

With that, Yoongi feels himself drift off to sleep. 

~*~*~

“Should we wake them?” 

“No, they look cute... we can’t disturb that.” 

“They’re sleeping on the job, though. _____ could get in trouble if her manager sees her.” 

“Shh, Yoongi has been wanting this since she started here. Besides, we can overturn any manager here.” 

Yoongi can’t make out the voices that are whispering, and he can’t quite seem to pull himself out of his lull yet. Instead, he’s hyper aware of the way your breathing sounds in his ear, your heart beat softly thudding beneath your chest. 

He feels himself drifting back into the deep sleep he fell into, but a hand rests on his shoulder. 

“Hyung, it’s time to go home.” 

“I said not to wake them!” 

Yoongi is beginning to recognize the voices. Namjoon and Jimin are in the room, and Yoongi feels his nose scrunch. 

“Fuck off.” he murmurs against your chest, snuggling deeper into your soft skin. 

“Come on now, you can’t sleep on the studio floor all night.” Namjoon’s voice is low, and Yoongi feels you begin to move. 

“Are you coming home with us tonight?” Namjoon’s attention is now directed to you, and Yoongi decides it is best to open his eyes now. The same dim lighting greets him and he cranes his neck to see your face. 

You’re eyes are still closed but you open your mouth to speak, “Why would I be coming home with you guys?” 

“Because Yoongi is refusing to let go of you.” Jimin speaks commonsensically, though Yoongi can tell he’s teasing. 

You absentmindedly reach your hand to his hair again, “Shall I go home with you and continue our sleep there?” 

Yoongi nods, his chin against your chest, “I’d love that.” 

As the four of you exit the vocal room, Yoongi guides your sleepy figure into the elevator where you reach the parking garage. Jimin drives, the rest of the members already having left and made their way into their beds. On the drive home, Yoongi doesn’t let go of your hand. 

It’s unspoken, and although you haven’t done anything to confirm it, the two of you are aware of the change in your personal relationship. Something so simple--like falling asleep together, has caused Yoongi’s confidence to grow.

Though sleepiness is still clouding you two, Yoongi opens his mouth to speak for the first time since leaving the office, “Do you like me, _____?” 

You laugh, it’s soft and melodic, “No, I just followed you here to sleep in the big comfy bed.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me,” Yoongi jokes, pulling back the duvet and slipping his shirt off his torso, “Here, that shirt and jeans can’t be comfortable to sleep in.” 

You nod, glancing back to the walk in closet. Yoongi nods, “You can change in there.” 

As you shut the closet door, Yoongi slips off his own jeans and slips beneath the covers. He reaches to the side and fluffs the pillow you’ll be using, then folding his arms beneath his head and watching the door for you to come out. 

When you enter into the main room again, Yoongi’s shirt doesn’t hang as low on you as he thought it would. It stops just below your ass, riding up when you bend down to place your folded clothes onto the chair in the corner. 

He tears his eyes away from your ass when you turn around, pulling but the duvet for you to slip beneath. 

You happily hop beside him, “Oh god you’re bed is soft. . .” 

Yoongi chuckles, “You’ll sleep well then.” 

You mirror his position, smiling softly, “I don’t think the bed is what will make me sleep well tonight.” 

He gnaws at his bottom lip, “What do you mean?” 

You don’t respond verbally, instead you lean forward and press a light, warm kiss to Yoongi’s lips. 

Immediately his body ignites in fire, his hand flying up to rest against your cheek. That’s as far as it goes, though, because the kiss is over just as quickly as it started. 

“Goodnight, Yoongi.” You whisper, reaching behind you and turning off the lamp on your side. 

Yoongi grins, feeling his stomach swarm with butterflies. You move to rest your head on his chest, intertwining your legs with his. Yoongi holds you tight, his face alight with joy, “Goodnight.” he whispers back. 

[edda-grenade]

Nature.

Adaar and her parents have a very serious debate about why Solas is… like that.

#feral verse, 1100 words. on AO3.

Adaar wasn’t sure what exactly Solas was—only that he definitely wasn’t an elf. Not fully, at least.

He sounded strange. Like an elf raised among the Dalish, but… off. Maybe he was originally from a far-off clan where they spoke with the lilt and affect he had, but she had never encountered it.

But then again: he didn’t have vallaslin, despite being more than old enough to wear them.

It could be that he had refused them for some reason, although she couldn’t imagine why. All the young Dalish she had known before and after they had received their vallaslin had seemed so happy and proud to bear them, even when their faces were still raw and sensitive from the markings.

Or he had never been offered vallaslin in the first place. That at least would explain why he didn’t appear to be on speaking terms with any Dalish. Adaar still cringed when she remembered the fight he’d gotten into with Lavellan’s First. And Keeper, and Hahren. At least they hadn’t decided to cut trade ties with her family’s settlement.

He wasn’t much better with city elves, the few times she’d managed to convince him to accompany her into the villages or, on one occasion, the town to the north. She had promised Iolain to fetch him the next time a Dalish clan made camp near their land again so he might join them, and Solas had watched the entire exchange like a man watching an execution. They can’t give him what he’s looking for, he had told her afterwards. All they do is play at being elves, like shadows of the real thing.

And what are you? she had asked, angry and baffled. Solas had given her a look of such abject sorrow it had stopped her right in her tracks.

A shadow of what I was.

So he acted like no elf on earth could be his people. And yet, sometimes, he said things like: My people used to, this place was sacred to my people, back when my people were—

He always caught himself rather quickly, and either ignored or avoided any follow-up questions she might pose. Which was infuriating, but also, horribly understandable…

Because Adaar had the feeling his people weren’t considered people by anyone else. The way he talked about spirits and demons, with a fond melancholy he usually reserved for tales of the ancient Arlathan…

“I don’t know,” said Reth, expression skeptical. “He definitely looks like an elf. And he’s a mage, who apparently didn’t learn in a Circle, or from a Keeper, or the Qun, or in Tevinter. I’m more curious who taught him magic than anything else.”

“That’s my point!” said Adaar. “What if he never learned magic because he didn’t have to?”

“I think he was a slave,” Ari said quietly. “From Tevinter. Probably manifested magic late, and then that presented an opportunity for escape.”

“He’s haunted enough for it,” agreed Reth. “It’s like looking into a mirror, sometimes. Terrible.” He shook himself and downed an impressive amount of the sweetshine they were sharing in one go.

“Leave some for the rest of us, kadan.” Ari swiped the bottle while Adaar folded her legs up on the bench.

“Fine, be boring and sensible,” she said, with two fingers pointed at Reth and Ari. “So Papa’s bet is he’s really just an elf mage, Tama’s bet is that but also a former slave—”

“I’m not going to bet on it,” Ari interjected. They drank a deep swig of sweetshine, then pushed it into Adaar’s hands. “I don’t actually want to be right on this. But I most likely am. Definitely more than any of you lot.”

“That’s depressing,” Adaar said with a grimace. She drank and passed the bottle to her mother. “I bet he’s an—not an abomination, like possessed, but something like it probably? An elf and some kind of spirit, fused together.”

“An old spirit,” Tehenan threw in.

“Oh yes, absolutely. The way he talks about ‘the old world’, it sounds like he was there for it, y’know? Like he’s seen it. Watched it all get sold up the coast.”

“My money’s on one of the Forgotten Ones,” Tehenan said with a grin. “Do you remember how pissed he was when Keeper Deshanna told the story of the Great Betrayal? That reeks of personal involvement.”

“Oof.” Adaar rested her chin in her hands, gaze unfocusing as she imagined what Solas might’ve looked like in the old days, before he got attached to his current shape. “That would be amazing.”

There was a soft lull as her parents’ gazes met among the table. Reth leaned his crossed arms on the table so he was at eye-level with his daughter.

“That doesn’t scare you?” he asked quietly. “The thought that you’re learning from someone who is—who is that old and strange and powerful? Whose nature is so alien?”

Adaar met his eyes. “Should it?”

“…No. You shouldn’t ever have to be afraid of anything.”

“I’m not.” She grinned. “Also, he has a really cute sneeze. I don’t think some creepy old god up to nefarious shit would sneeze like that. And—” she lunged all the way across the table to grab the sweetshine, “—if Solas was going to hurt me, he wouldn’t be teaching me all this magic, right? I can do so much more already.” She tapped the bottle, and frost bloomed along the glass from her fingertips. She set it down in mid-air and left it floating there, spinning lazily, drifting across the table. Ari’s posture shifted, tensed, and she listed against their shoulder, fumbling blindly for their hand, then squeezed it tight once she caught it.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it. I’m not gonna make it explode or anything.”

“But you could, huh.” Reth’s eyes flashed from across the table.

“Sure. But that’d be a waste of perfectly good sweetshine, and it’s really not that hard. Not breaking stuff is a lot more complicated than, well, breaking it.”

Ari sighed, and squeezed her hand back. “You have no idea how true that is.” They relaxed, and rested their cheek against Adaar’s temple. “Can you heat it up again, Sunspot? It’s too late for cold sweetshine.”

“Yep, let me just…” Adaar curled her claws and forced warmth back into the bottle at a measured pace. And, because she wanted to show off a bit more, she pushed further than before until the glass was comfortably hot to the touch and the bottle sailed from hand to hand without ever touching the table.

“This is good, kiddo. We should have it like this more often.” Tehenan smacked her lips after the first sip of the now heated drink. “Do you think Forgotten Ones know how to make sweetshine?”

Adaar laughed. “No idea. But if he doesn’t, I’ll teach him how when we make the next batch.”

[sunjaesol]

and in the haze you see colours

juke | human soulmate au | title: 5 am // amber run

The first colour she ever saw was purple.

When someone was born, they got to see one colour. To each it was different and often a reflection of one's aura. Julie's aura was purple and, naturally, it was the colour she could see. Which was unfortunate, as there weren't many purple things in life - not naturally, at least.

And so, her entire bedroom was purple. Purple walls and purple sheets and purple stationary. The rest were varying shades of grey. Often times, she asked her parents why some were lighter than others, and they told her about green and blue and red. It sounded like a fairy tale. Red was warm, apparently, and blue was flexible and green was fresh. Despite their best attempts, she couldn't visualise it.

It didn't matter. Once she met her soulmate, she would see all the colours imaginable.

Befriending Flynn was easy. The girl had purple ribbons in her hair and that instantly attracted Julie. Vice versa, Julie's orange dress was a plus for Flynn. Through their deep bond, oranges slowly infused itself in her cornea. Orange, like a child's laughter.

With Carrie came pink. Pink, like the fiery moves of a dancer. It was close to purple, so it wasn't a huge shock to see a bouquet of roses suddenly come alive with colour.

In retrospect, gaining orange and pink wasn't that amazing. Not when she lost her mother while doing so. Placing pink dahlias on her grave was just another punch in the gut.

Years passed and people around her found their soulmates. In freshmen year, so many students gasped and fainted as they crossed eyes with their One. She went to parties and someone would start randomly kissing the other. She went to open mics and watched as her soprano voice accompanied two people finding love. It was as beautiful as it was tragic.

Julie was seventeen and she still hadn't found her soulmate. Statistically, most had by now. Had she not gone to The Orpheum that night, she might’ve waited even longer.

Flynn urged her to go to this new and upcoming band, Sunset Curve, as their sound was someone she’d vibe with. Julie wasn’t really feeling it, drowning in homework and song ideas, but her friend was persistent. They needed a breather from everything and a concert was the perfect remedy. After a quick Google search, she realised they were her age. Curiosity swelled in her chest, wondering how they moved up from open mics or school assemblies to the iconic stage of The Orpheum. The only thing she could note about the band was the drummer’s pink hoodie. That was it.

The venue was packed when they arrived. Boisterous chatter, antsy for the band to come on stage and fill the spaces between the instruments. Glasses chiming of sodas and beers being filled and passed around, the soft hum of pop music blaring from a speaker. Most of the crowd were kids from neighbouring schools and all dressed more alternatively. Though she didn’t see most colours, it was clear as day the band tees were vintage and the trousers were ripped or checkered or both.

She shot Flynn a look. “Are you sure this is our thing?”

“Yes!” Propelling them to the front of the stage and consequently shouldering kids in the ribs, she added: “Their biggest hit is, like, insane. And you’ve been in a funk all week, so you need some insanity. To like, counteract it. I don’t know.”

Julie withheld a pout. She’s been ‘in a funk’, because while she was at Eats & Beats grabbing a coffee, two strangers fawned at the sight of each other. RIght in front of her nose, another couple found. It normally didn’t affect her that much, but it did this time. The girl was sick of hearing about romantical love instead of experiencing it herself. Sure, she had Flynn and Carrie and her family, but…

But she wanted that. She wanted more. And with each ticking hour, it felt less and less viable. Where was the One for her?  

The lights dimmed and the pop music stopped, smoke drifting across the stage as the audience began hollering and whistling. Egging the band to get on and give a performance worth watching. The hyped-up teens pushed everyone to the front, now Julie and Flynn forced to crane their necks to watch.

The drummer came on first, all applauding for him as he took his seat and started a drum beat that quickly upped in tempo. It swept them up in an atmosphere, heads bobbing and feeling that rise in anticipation.

Then the bassist came. His dark jacket glittered in the overhead lights, the flannel peaking beneath almost hinting at orange but remaining grey. He added to the beat, bringing in a bassline that had feet bouncing and more people cheering. The mic at the front remained empty, teasing its explosion of lyrics and electricity.

Finally, at the crescendo of sound, the frontman stormed on. He was all charm and smirks and cut-offs and blazing purple shoes. That caught her off guard, eyes dropping to the ultraviolet sneakers. A shock of colour amidst the grey.

His raspy voice belted out lyrics, a grin pulling on Julie’s face at the musicality. Grabbing Flynn’s hand, they jumped around with the other people. Their music was insane. It was fast and clashing and aggressive and raw.

With her neck in its odd position, she observed the singer for a beat. He was… hot. That was all Julie could think. He was hot. His hair falling perfectly right, big eyes, the smile breaking all lines in his face like a beautiful mosaic. Humming like an undercurrent was a buzz right beneath her ribs. Snug and warm, which could’ve been the vibrations from the amps, but it felt different. A good different.

They were in their fourth song when it happened. The band was kicking and jumping around, singing about making it big and not looking down, skyrocketing to stardom, when it happened.

The lead singer dropped to his knees and let the guitar riff bleed to the front row. The audience hollered, Julie laughing in delight at the expert playing, when her and the guy’s gazes met.

He yelped, music stopping short as he careened over the edge and crashed to the floor. Simultaneously, Julie felt the air knocked out of her lungs, losing balance and falling into Flynn. Her eyes were shrivelling with heat, as if hit with the embers of a campfire. A hammer slammed down on the buzz in her chest, electrifying the feeling till it was nearly unbearable.

Her eyes shot open. And then there was colour.  

The crowd dispersed in fright. Gasps and gawks echoed to the back, curious murmurs carefully watching the guy and the girl come to their senses.

“Flynn,” she exclaimed, grabbing for her friend. “Flynn, I can-”

Except she wasn’t there, joining the rest of the crowd further back. The bassist and drummer were watching on, baffled.

Oh. Her stare drifted to the squirming boy on the floor. Oh.

Luke scrambled upright, instantly coming face to face with Front Row Girl and all the colours he has wished to see forever. His eyes were burning from shock and euphoria, greys and whites bleeding out of his bloodstream.

Her hands grasped for his face, worried, lips forming words he hardly registered but vaguely processed as ‘asking if he was okay.’

“Y-yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, his gaze racing across her features to wholly take her in.

Warm skin and wide, brown eyes and dark lashes and curled, pink lips and a pointed chin and glossy, long curls dancing against her cheeks and soft hands and red - she was wearing red. His colour. His soulmate.

He laughed. “Hi.”

She matched it, giggling. “Hey.”

“Hi,” he sighed, still in disbelief that she was his soulmate. His soulmate. His soulmate. The One.

Her trembling smile softened, thumbs swiping across his cheekbones. “You have really pretty eyes,” she whispered.

Her own were shining with unshed tears and he felt himself choking up too. Never in a million years did he think he’d meet his soulmate. To him, it had always been music. Sure, it sounded nice, but he knew he shouldn’t be yearning for it. He had his friends - his aura was red and he gained pink from Alex and yellow from Reggie.

But suddenly she was here. She was really here.

“You’re- pretty-” he stumbled, causing her to laugh again.

Yeah, there was no way he’d be able to continue the gig. The Orpheum was a big deal, but meeting your soulmate? Most monumental moment of anyone's life.

There was so much colour now. So much life. There was so much more than just music and red and pink and yellow to enjoy. (Songs swirled in his mind though, exciting him to the bone as his hands slid to grab her own. Winking all coy, like the best was yet to come.)

“Do you wanna talk?” he rushed out after.

She nodded. “Yeah. You- uh- your band-”

Their fingers intertwined, warmth dancing in his heart. “Doesn’t matter,” he chuckled. “Really does not matter right now.”

The light of a camera flash and exhilarated screams of ‘soulmates!’ ripped them from their bubble. The bassist jumped offstage and clapped Luke on the back, whispering at him to go to the alley. Leading her away, there was no sense of doubt in their steps. Luke didn’t know her name, she maybe didn’t know his. None of that mattered. There was colour now.

From the alleyway, they found themselves wandering around the Strip as they talked for ages. Her name was Julie, his was Luke, they were musicians, they were seventeen, their auras were purple and red, he decided he adored her smile the most and she his twinkling eyes.

“I think they’re green,” Julie said, peering into his eyes. She was impossibly close and it sort of took his breath away. “They’re fresh.”

“Fresh?” he grinned.

She didn’t lean back - she didn’t want to, his soul simply enigmatic - and asked him the same question. “What are mine?”

His expression softened, a smile twitching on his lips. They’re beautiful. “Brown, I think,” he said instead. “Not sure though. You wanna figure it out tomorrow?”

Her stride halted, their grasp on each other nearly yanked apart. His brows raised expectantly. It was there - that invisible, innate, sense of understanding. It wasn’t just colour. It was the refusal to look at colour alone, ever again. It was insane for the both of them, how their rushing thoughts slotted all puzzle pieces together without a hitch. It had that satisfying click-click-click sound, like dominoes.

Luke found himself coming back to her, the space between them disappearing till their arms pressed together and there were no forces tugging them together. It was all themselves.

“I have a book about colour,” Julie eventually said. “We can learn them all.”

He smirked. “I can tell you your lips are pink.”

“Yours are too.”

“Yeah?” he teased.  

But then she lifted a finger and pressed against the plump skin. His heart stopped short at the sensation. Before he gave into the instinct to pucker them and kiss it, her hand dropped.

Julie grinned. “And now they’re red.”

When Luke kissed her, hers were red too.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @unsaidjulie​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @pink-flame​ @constantly-singing​ @stydixa​

[cheesyficwriter]

Hi Gorgonzola! It's not on your prompts list, but please can you write me an argument and a make up kiss in the rain? You don't have to use it, but this quote is quite a useful one: "Because I'm sorry. Because I love you. And because you're looking really hot standing out in the rain and I'm thinking, I have to kiss you!" Smut or not, but make it Romione or I cry!

Hi there, broomstick - you fabulous person you! Thanks for sending the prompt that mixes together two of our favorite pairings 😍 Hope you enjoy and accept this as a gift for all of your wonderful beta work! You truly rock 💜

Mild sexual references and language (Ron’s mouth always gets him into trouble)

My Type Is You

Hermione saw red, and for the first time, she wasn't looking directly at the obvious color of Ron's hair. 

Instead, her eyes were fixed glaringly on the brunette standing next to him at the bar, who looked suspiciously a lot like herself. Except she wouldn't be caught openly flirting with a man that wasn't hers. 

From her spot at a table a few paces away, Hermione watched as the unknown witch giggled and flipped her hair back. Ron was nodding and smiling at the woman politely, as he leaned coolly against the bar counter. He certainly had filled in to his muscular build over the past few months since he started auror training and, she begrudgingly admitted, was catching quite a bit of female and male attention when they were out in public together nowadays. 

The attention wasn’t the shock. It was the fact that her buffoon of a boyfriend wasn’t really doing anything to stop it. 

Her blood boiled as the woman had the audacity to place her perfectly manicured hand on his arm, a gesture that absolutely screamed that she was coming on to him. Ron’s arm twitched and Hermione saw him discreetly pull it back, his face twisting into an expression that clearly gave away his discomfort. Next to Ron on the counter were the two pints awaiting him to bring them back over to their table. Another minute passed by, and they were still there. 

Lifting her chin, Hermione had decided she had enough. She stood and marched determinedly over to the two. Ignoring any pleasantries, she reached a hand directly between their bodies to grasp her pint off the table, not caring when a bit of her beer swished onto the sticky floor. 

“Hey!” The woman exclaimed. 

“Hermione, what…” Ron blubbered out, but she didn’t even bother looking at his face. She turned sharply and slammed her pint down onto the nearest table, baffling the current occupants. 

“Here. Enjoy,” she sneered, before making a move towards the exit. Ron was faster, and gripped her hand to whirl her back around in seconds. 

“What are you doing?” He tried to keep his voice low, his eyes darting anxiously around the room, aware that her actions were starting to cause a stir. 

Hermione forced her hand away and crossed her arms, a move that made Ron recoil slightly in his stance. “Well I thought I was waiting for you to bring us our drinks, but it seemed you were a bit preoccupied, so I figured I would just go home.”

“Preoccupied?” Ron’s eyebrows crinkled together, trying to piece together the sequence of events. “With what? You don’t mean...Hermione Granger, are you jealous?” She wanted to wipe off the growing smirk that appeared on his face. 

“It doesn’t matter if I was, what matters is that you didn’t even care to notice!” 

Ron’s shoulders shagged, clearly frustrated that she didn’t seem to find any of it funny. “It’s not like that - I mean - I wasn’t…”

"I'm leaving!" 

Ron groaned. "You can't apparate now, you're not in the right state."

"I know that. I'll be walking home, mind you." She turned on her heel. 

"Like hell you are," he roared, stalking after her. Their boisterous argument had caught the attention of most of the pub, but Hermione was far too prideful to care at the moment. "Hermione, it's nearly midnight and it's pouring outside!"

She ignored him entirely and continued on her path out the door. 

"Uhm...you guys…" Harry murmured weakly, but didn't follow after them as they exited the pub. He knew better than to intervene any further. 

As soon as Hermione stepped out onto the cobblestone pathway and dimly lit street, she was hit with little pebbles of falling rain that soaked her entire body instantly. Ron emerged from the pub soon after, breathless, squinting at her through his now damp locks that were stuck to his forehead, falling haphazardly into his eyes. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” he called out through the rushing downpour. Now that they were outside, alone, he had no qualms about initiating a shouting match with her. 

“If I hadn’t made a show of myself, I doubt you would’ve even noticed if I slipped out,” she spat back, furiously swiping wet curls from her eyes. 

Ron’s face hardened and Hermione knew then that she had sparked his temper. “Are you fucking joking right now? I was just being bloody polite while waiting for our drinks! I didn’t have the slightest interest in her, no matter how she felt!” 

“Oh? And why not, may I ask? She certainly appeared to be your type...dark brown hair, curly…” 

Ron kicked at a growing water puddle nearby, effectively splashing the cool liquid up into the air. His hands raked forcefully through his wet hair, pushing it all back from his eyes in a move that made her ache with desire for him. 

"Because, you barmy witch, I am madly in love with you!" 

Hermione’s mouth parted instinctively and they stared intensely at each other for several solid seconds. They had already exchanged I love you’s before, but this one hit differently. The first time they said those three important words, they were both timid and shy, unsure of how the other would react. This time, Ron was more than sure, perhaps even more confident, if not a little exasperated, than she had ever seen him before. 

She couldn’t even remember why she was so angry before. 

“Oh God, Ron...I love you too.” She felt stupid for letting the tears fall from her face, as it was absolutely pointless with the raindrops that were already cascading down her cheek. 

Ron held out his arms in a peace offering. 

"I'm asking you to please, please come over here, because I don't think I can handle not having you in my arms any longer. 'Sides…" A playful grin appeared on his face, "You're looking pretty hot standing there in the rain, and I'm thinking, I might just have to kiss you." 

That was it. In two short strides, she had jumped into his arms, overcome by the force of which he cupped her cheeks and smashed his lips to hers. They kissed furiously, passionately, letting any remaining anger roll away, instead replaced by a burning need to be as close as possible. Ron’s hands traveled quickly to her bum, lifting her up so that her legs were wrapped around him. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, eliciting a deep growl from the back of his throat, only tightening his grip around her waist. 

"Oh, come on, you two!" Harry suddenly groaned from behind them. 

Ron lifted his head briefly to spit out, "Piss off, Harry!", before reclaiming her mouth once more. 

The boy who blocked continued to stand there. "Come on, you'll catch your death out here. Let me apparate you both back to Grimmauld Place and then you can continue whatever this is there. I haven't been drinking tonight."

Reluctantly, Ron released her, and she planted her feet back on the ground, disentangling their arms. 

“Fine. But make it quick, would you?”

Harry rolled his eyes and walked over to them, grabbing them both by the arm, before submerging them into the intense pulling sensation. When Hermione opened her eyes, they had landed directly in the foyer of Grimmauld Place, all three dripping wet. 

Harry was already running off, "Silencing charm, please!" He called from another room. 

Ron kinked an eyebrow and tugged on Hermione’s hand to pull her close, a move that made her swoon. “You know what, Hermione? You were right about one thing earlier.”

“Hmm?” She snuggled further into his arms, raising her head up to brush her nose against his, “And what was that?”

“I do have a type. My type is you.”

[hajimewhore]

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 1.8k words   ➷Humor, awkwardness, lots of swearing, more d*ck talk but mild mild nothing goes on, just very uncomfy, the secondhand embarrassment is real in there (like every part honestly)   ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, ✈Part 4, Part 5

“Uh, this… isn’t what it looks like?” 

Come’s your kneejerk response to Tooru’s exaggeratedly disgusted expression, you can tell he’s about 0.2 seconds away from throwing a fit.

“I went out of my way to wait for you, because I’m that good of a friend, you’re welcome. But you were taking so long, I figured I’d come in and drag you guys out. So. can someone please explain,” he shoots you (Hajime in his perception) a hard look, “What the hell is this?!”

Tooru is flushed in the face, and though his stellar performance and comical gestures were entertaining, you balk a bit at his outburst.

It’s a bit intense, and you feel a nervous sweat down your back. You can seldom say you’ve been on the receiving end of Tooru’s anger, and your struggling to come up with the right words to save face.

“I can explain?”

And what you came up with turned out to be excruciatingly underwhelming, and the baffled look Hajime sends you tells you that he also found your response pathetic.

Being in Hajime’s body with your hands clutched at his skirt, pulling away as if the garment was crafted using hot coals the second Tooru made an entrance, You’ll admit... it looked highly incriminating, and you’re going have some painful explaining to do.

“Well it looks like you’ve got your dirty hands on my bestfriend,” Tooru opts to refer to your actual self as his bestfriend, “What, Iwa-chan, can’t get any action? Trying to cop a feel before school? I didn’t think you were like that!”

He finishes the first segment of his rant with a huff. Under normal circumstances, you’d be appreciative of the rank up on his bestfriend list. Currently though, Tooru is getting under your skin, and as young man, you’re a little offended that he’s talking to you like that.

Tooru takes two strides (curse his long legs) across the threshold of your house, eyes narrowing in on you.

You glances to Hajime to ease the situation, he’s the only one that can say anything to help alleviate the situation.

Tooru follows your gaze, eyeing skeptically for an explanation. Hajime clears his throat, and you think you just might be saved. He’s always been quick to resolve altercations, whether its verbally or physically.

“....Hajime wanted me to wear my skirt shorter, but I said it was against school dress code.”

Hajime states as a matter of fact, and you gasp, what the fuck Hajime, but Tooru’s absolutely scandalized gasp overshadows your own.

“You asshole, that’s not—” 

Tooru is quick to interrupt you,

“You absolute heathen Iwa-chan! Who knew you’d turn out to be such a dog!”

Tooru snags your collar with a tight fist, and you instinctively wrap your hand around his.

Uh... you’re not gonna have to fight Tooru, are you? It’s Hajime’s body, so you’d gladly let him get bruised up as retribution for that comment, but you’re not too keen on getting punched in the face by Tooru protecting your own dignity.

“It’s not like that!”

You scramble for a way to dig yourself out of this one. Tooru’s locked his glare on you, exuding pressure.

“Then what is it like Iwa-chan?”

You glance from Tooru’s scowl to see Hajime’s smug expression behind him, your brow ticks at the sight of it. 

‘That little...’

Weren’t you just saying last night how excellent of an actress you were? Time to put that to the test.

You forcefully remove Tooru’s fist from your collar, adjusting your tie. Tooru allows you to gather yourself for a moment, scorn still etched across his features.

Averting your eyes to the side with a serious, contemplative gaze, you muster all the dramatics you can to pull off your next line. Internally, you think smugly that you must appear picture perfect for a drama noir film. If only it were raining too, that would set the atmosphere ideally. But an actress must work with what she’s got. 

Tooru seems decently invested in your dramatics, and Hajime is looking at you with contempt, as if he drank sour milk. Now that a pregnant pause has settled in and you’ve garnered the crowd’s interest, you sigh, long and wistfully,

“She never wears her skirt like that... I thought she might be struggling with her self confidence, so I was just trying to make her feel comfortable with herself. I’m such a brute though, I guess I got carried away.”

You cast your gaze sheepishly to Tooru, rapping your knuckles lightly against the top of your head to emphasize your point.

Tooru blinks at the explanation, takes in the information, considers the evidence in his mind.

His eyes begin to water, as expected, tears brimming at his long lashes as he spins around to pull Hajime (AKA you) into a bone crushing hug. He’s got a suffocating grip on him, all the while crying about ‘Hajime’s’ reasoning.

“I didn’t even notice! Forgive your stupid bestfriend, I should’ve said something too! How did I miss that?!” his dramatics always seem to up yours, Tooru is currently stealing best-in-show from you, “Waaaah, I’m sorry, you’re perfect the way you are!”

He cries into what he thinks is your shoulder, no doubt using the fabric to wipe his face, much to Hajime’s disdain. Meanwhile, Hajime is glaring hard and venomously at you for that bullshit display.

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

He mouths, and you stick your tongue out, giving him the cheekiest expression he’d never want to see on his own face.

“Whew, alright,” Tooru straightens, clearing his throat and flicking his last tear off with the swipe of a hand, “Now we really have to go. Hike that skirt up and let’s get on with our day.”

He’s back to picture perfect Oikawa Tooru, no evidence of his outburst to be seen (asides from the wet spot on Hajime’s shoulder).

You try to grunt in agreement as casual and Hajime-like as you can.

For the sake of getting to school on time without any further incidents, Hajime pulls the uniform skirt up a tad higher, vowing to lower it when you fucking nuisances are out of the picture.

Your final class is almost over, and you’re feeling.... extremely uncomfortable.

Not because the school day went bad, no, you found it easy to converse with his classmates and teachers. Notetaking was relatively simple, you’re learning the same material as Hajime anyways.

You’re physically uncomfortable, and the pressure of your bladder about to burst is driving you crazy.

‘I can’t take it any more!’

You shoot your hand up, and your teacher gives you an odd look before you excuse yourself to the restroom.

You head to the furthest end of the building, the women’s restroom is generally vacant so the men’s should be the same, yeah? And you definitely don’t want to be caught in the women’s, despite how empty it could possibly be. So with a heavy sense of shame, you waddle into the men’s room.

If someone’s in there, it’ll be fine. Just be in, and out. No big deal.

Oh. 

Oh fuck no.

“Iwaizumi, hey.”

Matsukawa fucking Issei glances up to the door you just waltzed through. Matsukawa Issei, middle for the Seijou men’s team, tall and messy haired flirt, the same Matsukawa Issei that helps you with your blocks and techniques, friend of Tooru and Hajime... and he’s staring straight at you with a casual nod of his head. 

You try to return it as casually as possible, despite your bones and every being shaking in you. 

‘Fuck, I forgot men I actually know use the men’s room.’

“...Mattsu–” nope not Mattsun (so much for being casual, you almost fucked up the way Hajime refers to Matsukawa), “–kawa.”

He raises an eyebrow for the briefest second, before returning his attention to the urinal, unzipping his pants. Un. Zipping. His. Pants.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on the slip up, already entering conversation about how your day is, to which you give short response to, trying not to shuffle your feet to the urinal. You really don’t want him to catch on to your discomfort.

You heavily contemplate just going into a stall, but you think that might be weird for guys to do. Now that you think about it, isn’t it weird to piss in the urinal directly next to the other guy? If you chose one spaced out would he get offended? Goddamnit, you never learned men’s room etiquette. Screw this whole situation, and screw Matsukawa Issei for needing to relieve himself at this exact time. 

Well, it’s too late now, you’re already standing at the one directly next to Mattsun. You can’t exactly take your sweet time picking another urinal and shuffling about while Mattsun is here engaging you in conversation about his fucking math class.

If it was weird to choose the spot beside him, Mattsun doesn’t say anything about it, going about his business. 

Thankfully, if you could even be thankful for a situation like this, you’re so overwhelmed by Mattsun’s unexpected presence that it’s keeping your mind off the having-Hajime’s-dick thing. The discomfort is still there, but you have to pee so badly, you’re not too bothered by it at the moment. You’re also intently focusing on not blushing, willing the blood flow to your cheeks to cooperate with you for once.

Simultaneously, you’re concentrating on not looking at Matsukawa fucking Issei’s junk. You’re getting good at multitasking.

But apparently, not good enough. Your willpower wasn’t as strong as you thought, and your focus slips for a moment as you gaze down and–was someone going to tell you that Matsukawa fucking Issei was HUNG?

“Is there something wrong with my dick?”

You shoot your eyes back up to Mattsun, who’s tilting his head with a thick brow raised. 

‘Hajime, if you hear about this, I am so sorry.’

“Nope, it’s perfectly fine,” you respond curtly, before coming to the realization that Hajime probably wouldn’t like you telling his friends that their dicks are ‘perfectly fine’, “I mean, no. It’s seriously ugly.”

You cringe at your save, if you could call it that, and Mattsun (finally) zips up. He casts a momentarily offended look at you.

“I think you mean ‘seriously huge’.” 

He laughs deeply, heading to the sink. You completely agree with that sentiment, and you’re glad he knows he’s well endowed, but it’s best to keep those thoughts to yourself.

You follow suit, laughing as sarcastically as you can without letting your voice crack. 

“Whatever, man.”

You proceed to have awkward sink talk with Mattsun, and upon exiting the restroom you thank the gods when you see his class is the opposite way to yours. 

“See you at practice.”

He waves, and when Mattsun is out of sight, you sigh in immense relief. 

Just how many dicks are you going to see before you swap back? You sob internally, returning to your class.

But that does bring up a point, Men’s Volleyball Practice. 

You’re marginally grateful for that encounter with Mattsun, because now you’re acutely aware of the locker room changing time before and after practice. 

You bury your face in your arms, taking note to sprint like hell and get to practice early. You’ll be damned if you have to spend any amount of time struggling to avoid eye contact with your friends’ abs, as well as Hajime’s other teammates'.

A/N: AHAHA the CHAOS. Anyways, we all know Matsukawa got that horsec*ck. Thanks for tuning in for this week’s episode of y/n’s awkward panic. Iwaizumi Is So Done. 

taglist: @cybergovl​ @thatoneoddgirl8 @keijikunn 

Masterlist, Part 5

[claymorecut]

BABYSITTING A 26 YEAR OLD WOMAN IS NOT THE MAIN CHARACTER’S JOB!

A GINTSU FANFICTION

CHAPTER 1

The life of a main character is never an easy one. So much they have to look at, so many they need to motivate and inspire, their goals, aspirations and responsibilities- it’s like their job can never end, even if the series does.

However, the same cannot be said for our rather unmotivated MC here.

It was a pleasant morning and once again in the Sakata household, our main character seems to have been doing the same as always.

With his legs propped up on the desk and a JUMP in his left hand, Sakata Gintoki gulped down the last of his favorite strawberry milk from the carton as his eyes scanned the contents of his precious JUMP magazine. With Kagura travelling around the universe with her baldy father and Shinpachi handling the dojo, he found himself alone at home as he enjoyed his day off. It may come as a surprise but apparently, for the last two weeks, our lazy and nonchalant MC has been constantly handling all the work alone at the Yorozuya without catching a single break. And as much as he appreciated the payment from his clients, he really missed slacking off like this. There was no work today and finally in a few hours, he can visit the pachinko parlor and drink sake to his heart’s content.

Taking a day off after working so hard surely feels like an achievement. Gintoki leisurely thought as he put the magazine down on the desk and stretched his arms. Yawning, he stood up from his seat and walked towards the little TV. Switching it on, he flipped the channel to Ketsuno Ana’s news show and flopped down on the sofa as he patiently waited for his favorite weather girl to appear on screen. However, this didn’t last long as he heard the phone ring.

Gintoki groaned mentally as he stood up from his seat and walked towards the area where he was seated before. “Hello? Yorozuya speaking.” And his voice was as dead as ever.

“GIN-SANNN!” It was Seita screeching from the other side and with that heard, Gintoki slammed the phone down. Not to be presumptuous or anything but he had a pretty decent idea why Seita was calling him and that too with that whiny voice of his. No way was he going to listen to that brat’s pleas to help him with his studies while he complains about how strict Tsukuyo’s teaching methods are. It is not the very first time that the kid has called him up like this for the same reason but today, he was not falling for it. He is supposed to enjoy his day and relax a little, not teach a kid stupid history lessons. And especially with THAT lady.

Rubbing his forehead, Gintoki once again decided to forget about these shenanigans and enjoy his day to the fullest. But once again, his peace was interrupted with the phone ringing.

And Gintoki was in no mood to listen to ANY REQUESTS today.

“Listen here kid, I haven't taken a break for the last two weeks from work and the Yorozuya is closed today so, I’m not gonna tea-“

“But Gin-san, at least list-“

“No buts! I’m TIRED and I'm NOT helping you with your homework today!”

“But Gin-san it’s not homewo-“

“Oh then it must a stupid school project of yours! How about you ask that demon tutor of yours for some help and leave me alone for today!?”

“But it IS about Tsukuyo-nee-“

“Now don’t start your compl-“

“But Gin-san-“

“I’m hanging up kid, enjoy your day and let me enjoy mine.”

“TSUKUYO-NEE HAS TURNED INTO A KID!”

“……”

“H-hello?”

“……”

“H-hello, Gin-san?”

“…..I’m not falling for that crap.”

“GIN-SAN!!!”

Looks like our MC has something to do today after all.

*****

Gintoki had no idea what was going on anymore.

One moment he was at his house, relaxing and planning how he was gonna spend the rest of his day perfectly and the next moment he finds himself taking his scooter out and kick-starting it to visit Yoshiwara.

The phone call with Seita did not last long after that grand confession as he simply just heard Seita plea to him one last time again before hanging up. If he was being honest with himself, the kid did sound a little worried. Sure, regarding the situation he does not have much information or context and Tsukuyo turning into a kid sounded a little too ridiculous to him but he still thought maybe checking the situation there a little won’t harm him. Plus, he can always ask for free sake in return.

Parking his scooter in front of the teahouse, Gintoki observed the area within his vision and not to his surprise, everything looked normal. The streets were a little busy with construction workers carrying a few heavy piles of wood to their designated area but apart from that, Yoshiwara looked normal. Hinowa was standing right inside the teahouse, discussing some paper works with a Hyakka member and well, apart from looking a little more busy than usual, she looked pretty normal as well. Nothing looked out of ordinary and even though he did not see Tsukuyo around, he pretty much guessed that she was alright too and was working somewhere like the workaholic she is.

I knew that brat was lying damn it! He grunted, thinking how he fell in the kid's trap again.

Noticing the silver-haired samurai standing in front of the teahouse, Hinowa dismissed the Hyakka member as she smiled warmly to welcome him. “Gin-san, thank goodness you came.”

Gintoki walked inside the teahouse with his usual dead-fish eyes as he took a seat in one of the benches placed there. “I guess it couldn’t be helped.” He shrugged, speaking in his nonchalant voice.

Taking a seat on a bench in front of him, Hinowa apologetically smiled at the tired samurai. “I am genuinely sorry for the inconvenience, Gin-san. I’ve been busy with the renovation work and that’s why I told Seita to call you. He did tell me after calling you how busy you were lately but we really need your help right now.”

Surely, Gintoki was a little pissed about Seita lying to him but he really did feel a guilty for not accepting his request. On a closer look, Hinowa did look pretty stressed and there were dark circles under her eyes. Plus, he couldn’t find Tsukuyo anywhere. Must be out there working like always. “But I need you treat me with some really great sake later.”

“Of course!” Hinowa cheerfully replies. “I’m glad you agreed to it. I hope Seita has told you everything. I’ll explain the situation to you properly.”

Situation? “Um..okay. But don’t you guys complain later if something goes wrong.”

“Oh what are you saying, Gin-san! I have complete faith in you!”

They were talking about the same situation, right? Well, of course she wants the best for her child. Guess I’ll have to do my best as a tutor too. “Okay…so I’ll be going to Seita-kun’s room-“

Hinowa blinked confusingly at this. “Eh?”

“.....How am I supposed to help him with his project then?”

“……Project?”

Now Gintoki was sweating with extreme pressure. Did Gintoki just had a huge misunderstanding? Was what Seita saying…true? No way was he gonna believe in that lie. “W-well, of course. That’s why he called me and made up this thing about Tsukuyo so I can-“

“Yes, Tsukuyo! But Seita didn't made up-“

NO WAY has she turned into a child! “P-please don’t joke like that Hinowa-san-” he stuttered, confusion and panic clear in his voice.

“But Gin-san-“

"Love drug was okay but THIS!? No way am I gonna believe THIS!"

"But Gin-san! Let me ex-"

“Hinowa. What’s goin’ on ‘ere?”

....

......

.........

The voice came from right behind him but something was certainly very wrong with it. Even though he did not want to believe it, the voice was oddly familiar. Young, but VERY familiar.

“Everything’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Tsukuyo.” Hinowa turned to the voice’s direction, who was apparently Tsukuyo.

Gintoki didn’t want to freak out and fortunately, he succeeded in that. But this uncanny feeling he had made his stomach churn with uneasiness and soon, he too found himself turning towards the direction of the child-like voice. And to his utter shock, there stood a kid. A kid so unfamiliar yet familiar he could just look at her with disbelief. Her blond hair was tied into a little bun and she was wearing a yellow yukata with white checkered patters and to his guess, she was almost 10 years old. Maybe his eyes were just ditching him due to exhaustion and he was just looking at a kid who very much resembled Tsukuyo and even has somewhat of a similar voice like her but the moment they landed on the oh-so familiar scar on her face, he knew he was facing reality.

The black kimono was gone. The heels were gone. That confident and mature face was now replaced with innocence and the curves and the legs his eyes often followed innocently(?) were also gone.

However, the person remained the same.

It was Tsukuyo. But now turned into a child…

“Okay.” Tsukuyo replied, her eyes skeptically looking at the silver-haired samurai. “May I ask who he is?”

……And she did not remember him!?

“Oh he is the one I told you about.” Hinowa replied with a sweet smile on her face. “The Savior of Yoshiwara, Sakata Gintoki.”

“Oh.” And she did not even…….look interested.

“Now now, don’t worry about me so much. You should get inside and take some rest. I have a few urgent things to discuss with him so I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Her voice was reassuring but at the same time he could hear her voice shake a little. What is going on!?

“Hmm. Okay.” Tsukuyo nodded obediently and went inside the main house before giving Gintoki another skeptical look. As for the man himself, he felt his eyes almost exit his sockets.

Hinowa sighed in relief and turned back to look at the baffled samurai to explain the situation. “Please Gin-san. Let me explain.”

Gintoki wanted to yell so, so badly right now. Explain!? EXPLAIN WHAT EXACTLY!? THIS!? The little Gintoki was yelling inside his head but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a strained whisper. “What the hell happened, Hinowa-san!?”

Breathing heavily, Hinowa finally answered the long awaited question. “Three days ago, Tsukuyo was handling the construction work of a few abandoned store houses here and while emptying the rooms, she accidently knocked over a small bottle of drug and inhaled it which was once used by the courtesans to replenish their youth.”

The information has now left him completely baffled. “A WHAT!?”

Understanding his confusion, Hinowa continued to explain the situation properly to him. “Almost thirty years ago, this drug was smuggled here by the Amantos and even though Hosen’s influence kept most drug dealers away, this specific drug was here in high demand among the courtesans for its effects. Just a small sniff from the little perfume-like bottle and it would show its work in a few seconds. However, the side effects of the drug soon started to show as some women felt their body weaken and suffered from mild memory loss which affected the business of many here. Hosen, after learning about these incidents and how it might seriously affect the business later, took a strict step and banned this drug completely from Yoshiwara and whatever was left here was all thrown out. However, maybe some of it was still left over that storehouse and that is why…Tsukuyo…”

This information caught Gintoki’s attention as he silently now observed Hinowa’s exhausted face. Her voice was almost a whisper but Gintoki could clearly hear it quiver a little and now he had a pretty decent idea that this was not a very simple situation.

“So, you mean to say Tsukuyo’s life is in danger?” Gintoki asked after processing all the information in his head to which Hinowa shook her head.

“I’m….not sure.” Sighing, she lowered her head down. “When the Hyakka members brought her here unconscious, we immediately called the doctor and had all the check-ups done. Maybe it’s because the drug was quite old that it did not affect Tsukuyo’s health much apart from a little fatigue but when she woke up, except for me, she….remembered no one in front of her. Not even Seita. And after explaining the effects of the drug and discussing everything with the doctor, he told me that her mind has gone back to her ten year old self along with her body and now, she remember everything only from that time. The doctor did say that the drug’s effects will wear off in a few days and her body will be back to normal but….he was not so sure whether her memories will come back or not.”

And with that said, Hinowa broke down.

When he first heard this news, Gintoki literally did not believe it because it just sounded so absurd. But now that Hinowa clearly explains the entire situation and especially, Tsukuyo’s condition, he suddenly feels a strange pang in his chest. “….You mean….she may lose her memory forever..?”

Hinowa silently nodded as she wipes her tears with her kimono sleeves.

“Then why didn’t you guys call me when it happened three days ago?” Gintoki asked, his voice low but slowly losing its casual tone.

“I did want to inform you early on.” Hinowa replied immediately. “But the work load here was too much and we were in no condition to compromise Tsukuyo’s mental state in such a short period of time. When I discussed the entire matter with the doctor, he told me that Tsukuyo regressing back to her child self and losing her memories simultaneously might also be a result of her subconscious trying to delete some past traumas. And so for now, he told us that we fabricate a good enough explanation for her to convince. For the last two days, I nagged her to rest properly and it was only today that she finally looked healthy and so I let her help me with some regular chores.”

Hinowa's voice sounded more and more tensed as she contined to explain the problem to him. Gintoki understood both of them were in no condition to discuss about this sensitive subject by just anxiously talking to each other. Moreover, he understood how frustrated Hinowa must have been with all of this. Especially because he too at one point lost his memories and saw how desperately Shinpachi and Kagura were trying to bring him back. And except all this, she was now singlehandedly handling the work going on here. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his racing heart down. Like Hinowa, he too was scared; especially with the fact that Tsukuyo might never remember him. But it was not the time for him as to act all confused and most importantly, they called him for help.

She needed help.

And honestly, if he ever again tutors Seita, he would love to tutor him with her by his side.

“…..How did you guys explain everything about Yoshiwara?”

Hinowa wiped off her tears as she again took a deep breath to explain further. “We told her everything. About Hosen and his defeat. About you and how you became the savior of this city. And as for her memory loss, we told her that she had an accident which has temporarily affected her memories. At first, she was a little confused but fortunately, I was able to convince her and she calmed down. And like always, she did not question me…However, the doctor has warned us that we do not mistakenly trigger memories of any unpleasant incident which has happened in the recent past to her and” And she took another deep breath, her forever cheerful eyes showing a sense of fear in them. “…..that’s exactly what I’m worried about the most.”

Gintoki has never seen Hinowa this scared for Tsukuyo. Not even when she was abducted and the entire Yoshiwara was on the verge of burning down. However, now that he sensed the fear in her eyes did he come to understand why she was so anxious. Past trauma. Any recent unpleasant incident. “You don’t mean…”

"She was asking about Jiraiya.”

------x-----

A/N: And that’s all for the first chapter. I’m writing a fic after so long and this idea has been in my mind for almost a year now. I’m genuinely sorry for the lack of GinTsu in this chapter though but I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next one. Hope you guys enjoyed it and don't worry I’ll update soon enough! <3. Plus, please let me know if I should post it on ffnet and ao3?

[underappreciated-bee]

Incompatible Intentions

Chapter One

A/N: This is a Sokka x female!reader and Zuko x female!reader. This is one of my first stories so please enjoy. Also, Y/N is 10 years old in this chapter, making Zuko and Azula 11 and 9 respectively. The year is 94AG.

Can be read on both A03 and Wattpad (same username)

SUMMARY:

Y/N was a young girl born in the Fire Nation: taught that it was the greatest nation in the world. She grew up with these ideologies engraved in her mind. As her father was a close trusted advisor of the Fire Lord Ozai, she would often spend time with the young crowned prince, Zuko.

After her father dares to disagree with the Fire Lord in a meeting, opposing to the invasion of the water tribes, he and his family were banished from the Fire Nation, never allowed to return again. They seek refuge in the Southern Water Tribe, however not for long, as the Fire Nation soon would raid…

WARNING: N/A if you find any please tell me

Also sorry for any spelling mistakes or typing errors. I have proofread this, but sometimes it just skips over my head. 

Status: IN PROGRESS

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Y/N- your name

Y/F/N- your father’s name

Y/L/N- your last name

If you’re on Chrome, you can use this extension to personalise your names.

WC: 1.9K

Zuko's eyes slowly began to follow the gentle movements of the young turtle duck in front of him. Its feet lightly paddled in the shallow water of the pond as it tried desperately to create enough momentum to reach its mother that sat a distance away. Zuko smiled fondly at the creature, breaking off another small piece of the bread in his hand, throwing it gracefully in the direction of its mother- enticing it. 

This had been going on for a while: Zuko feeding the turtle ducks and Y/N staring mindlessly at the cerulean sky, neither of them speaking; only sitting in comfortable silence.  

Y/N and Zuko had known each other for just under a year, first having met one another at a birthday party for Zuko's grandfather. 

Y/N's father, Admiral Y/F/N Y/L/N, helped aid the Fire Lord in his war efforts against the other nations; so for the Fire Lord's 93rd birthday, he and his family were invited by the Fire Lord himself to come to celebrate.

 That was the first time that Y/N and Zuko had met. 

Neither of them talked the entire night, only ever sharing momentary glances with the other before briskly turning away. It had been during the weeks following when they would first speak. 

Y/N's father had brought her to the palace with him, having promised that the meeting wouldn't take up much of his time and that the two of them would be able to go and eat Mochi straight after. Begrudgingly, she followed her father and waited for him in the palace garden. 

Warily, her feet dangled off of the bench you sat on- too short to reach the ground- but that was to be expected from an 8-year-old. Happily, she watched as the turtle ducks raced around the pond, your eyes tracing their movements; they seemed relaxed- content, even.

Zuko felt relaxed as he walked into the palace garden. His hand clutching the bag of seeds his mother had handed him, ready to feed the ducks that day. Smiling, he walked into the garden, eyeing his surroundings in hope that Azula wouldn't be there. 

Abruptly, his feet stopped beneath him: catching the sight of a young girl- around his age- sitting alone on the corner bench. He had no idea who she was, or even if she had been allowed in there, but that didn't stop him from approaching her. 

"Hi," Zuko first spoke up, waving his hand awkwardly in the air at the girl.

 She looked up startled, her face morphing into one of shock as she realised who had just spoken to her. Immediately, she stood up and bowed at the prince

"P-Prince Zuko," she stammered. "I am so sorry if I've disturbed you. I didn't realise you'd be here. I can go and wait for my father somewhere else." The words flowed off her tongue swiftly, her nervousness apparent.

Y/N had never seen the young Prince up close in person before. Sure, she had seen pictures of him around the Capital, and she had noticed him a couple of weeks ago at the Fire Lord's Birthday, but despite her father's position, she had hardly ever met anyone other than the Fire Lord himself.

"My friends call me Zuko." he smiled softly.

"Oh. Well, uhm, Zuko- My name is Y/N," she smiled shyly at him, timidly putting her hair behind her ear. Zuko had picked up on her discomfort,  and so he started to walk towards the pond to spare her of any more of the awkward conversation. 

Carefully, he sat down under the tree in the centre of the garden and started to feed the ducks. Y/N only watched on fondly as the turtle ducks swam towards the seeds he had thrown in their direction. 

"Do you want to come and sit next to me?" Zuko asked the girl, turning around to look at her, "Promise I'm not as intimidating as I look." 

The young girl smiled timidly, she wasn't even really supposed to be in the garden, let alone be talking to a member of the Royal Family. Glancing between him and the bread in his hand, she spoke up, more confident than before, " Only if you let me feed the Turtle Ducks."

Y/N watched the sky peacefully. As time passed, she had learned to feel relaxed in Zuko'd presence; no longer was she as tense and unnerved as she once was. She looked over at him quietly, still feeding the Ducks, she thought. Her head shook slightly before finally breaking the silence.

"Are we not going to talk today?" She asked concerned. He simply shrugged, unsure of what to say. 

He seemed unusual today, not his typical self, and that to no fault of his own. Zuko now being a young 10-year-old Prince had found himself with fewer responsibilities than he'd like. Despite his countless pleas to his father to allow him to be more involved in the war effort, he would always be turned away as 'he wasn't old enough to understand'.

"Sorry I just..." he paused briefly, deciding whether or not to say something, "...I have a lot on my mind, " he admitted, giving her a distressed look.

She glanced at him, concerned,  "D'you wanna talk about it?"

Before they could discuss any further, they were unpleasantly interrupted.

"Hey Zuzu," Azula gleamed as she walked into the garden. 

Zuko sighed heavily at the sight of his sister. He had tried avoiding her the entire day in hopes she would catch interest in other things.

"Hi Azula," Y/N looked at the girl brightly, whilst Zuko only mumbled irritatedly under his breath.

 Azula sat down beside Y/N, looking at her quizically, "I didn't expect you to be here today," her tone more similar to that of a question.

"My father had a last-minute meeting he had to attend.  And since we were on our way to the market he brought me along with him." she smiled kindly at Azula. 

In the past year, Y/N  had found herself inside the Fire Nation palace more often than she'd first liked. Her father would regularly be called in to advise the Fire Lord on some new plan for invading the Earth Kingdom or the Water Tribes. Y/N didn't mind it though, because every time he would have to go to the palace, she'd join him.

It was somewhat of a ritual between the two. Whenever her father had been called to the palace, Y/N would happily join him. At first, she did so because she wished to see the Turtle Ducks. After a while, she realised that she liked talking to Zuko. 

Sometimes, however, Zuko wouldn't be in the garden; only his sister Azula. At first, she was a whole lot less welcoming than her brother. And even though Azula wouldn't admit it, eventually, she too began to like Y/N. She liked the fact that there was another girl, around her age, in the palace. 

It made her feel less alone. 

Azula had sat down beside Y/N and started to pluck at the grass, viciously ripping it up with her fingers before dropping it back on the ground: then repeating. 

As she continued playing with the grass, a bundle of daisies caught her eye. Azula scooted closer to them. Then she started to rip the daises out of the ground, as she had done with the grass. 

By this point, Zuko finally began to notice his surroundings and looked over at Y/N, who remained unmoving on the grass, sprawled out like a starfish. He smiled kindly at the sight before turning his attention to his sister. 

"Azula you shouldn't be doing that! Leave the flowers alone."

Zuko's sudden increase in dynamics caused Y/N to look at the two, unsure of what was going on. Her face was laced in perplexion as she tried to decipher their interaction. It was only when she noticed the daisies in Azula's hands that Y/N moved closer to her to inspect. Slowly, she picked up a daisy off of the ground, and then another, and another; joining Azula in her conquest 

Zuko gawked at them both in complete shock, unsure of how to proceed.

"Look Zuko, it's okay," Y/N smiled, lifting a beautifully crafted daisy chain. "We can make friendship bracelets out of them." She smiled kindly at Zuko, who had a shocked look on his face. He glanced at his sister, seeking comfort in the fact she looked just as baffled as him.

"A what?" Azula spoke up. 

"A friendship bracelet" Y/N repeated. "It's self-explanatory really. It's a bracelet that friends wear to symbolise their friendship." As she began to dig her nails in the stem of a daisy, to thread the next one through, " and we can make them out of daisies." 

From that day on, it became almost like a tradition for the three to sit down together in the garden, creating daisy chains in honour of their friendship. Because despite how long it'd been since they'd seen one another, or even if Zuko and Azula weren't on speaking terms. It would be something they all enjoyed doing, together. 

 A couple of weeks had passed since that day when Y/N walked into the palace with the brightest smile on her face. In her hands, two perfectly packaged presents. She bid farewell to her father before giddily running off into the garden to meet with her friends.  

Azula, sat on the bench, was reading a book and Zuko sat underneath the tree, as he watched the Turtle Ducks paddle in the water. Y/N skipped into the garden, standing in the middle of the room, the cleared her throat. 

Both the siblings looked up at their friend and quickly ran up to her, forgetting what they were doing.

 "Y/N!" they both exclaimed in unison, rushing to be the first to embrace her. After the three of them had hugged and the excitement had died down, Y/N looked at the two, "I got you both something."

The two siblings remained confused as they began to wonder what could their friend have possibly gotten them.

Y/N brought out two presents from behind her back, giving them to the two. They both looked at Y/N, then at each other, unsure of what to expect from the girl.

As the two opened their gifts, Y/N spoke, "I wanted to get the two of you something for being my best friends. So I decided to make it meaningful."

 Azula was the first to open her gift, seeing a red string bracelet with a silver small sun charm on it. She looked down in the box, in awe of the jewellery. 

"I decided that the best thing to get you would be the most important part of a daisies life cycle, " Y/N said as she showed the two a bracelet similar to theirs on her hand. 

Unlike Azula who had a sun charm and Zuko who wore a water droplet:  Y/N had a daisy. Showing them her charm she began to explain her gifts. 

"I have a daisy. Azula is my sun," she said nodding to her friend

"And Zuko is my water." 

The two children looked at the girl in front of them, both grinning from ear to ear. They placed the red string on their wrist and looked back up to their friend.

" I wanted you to have these so that you would be reminded of our friendship. That no matter where we go and no matter how far apart we are. You will always be my best friends." 

No matter what.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: Jaw$! or How Lena Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Webby (Lena Retrospective Commissioned by WeirdKev27)

Trigger Warning: Part of this review contains discussions of abuse which can’t be avoided but I still want to be senstive to my audience and any trauma they’ve gone through.  Welcome back weblena world to Shadow Into Light: My Lena Sabrewing Retrospective. And Jaw$ is here, long live Jaw$. Tiffany was a shark who bites the law she was in an episode i’m reviewing called Jaw$. 

And it’s the money shark before the storm as next month i’ll be going from two Ducktales reviews a week with the Lena retrospective and the last few episodes.. to three, as i’ll ALSO be covering the Della arc from season 1 in the build up to shadow war. And if your wondering if I expertly planned this to coincide with the finale, to the point the shadow war review and those leading up to it will be on the same week as the finale.... nope. I just got REALLLLY lucky as I already had all of that planned out, and the schedule for the  new episodes happened to synch up perfectly, ending just in time for me to revisit the series start and having Magica’s big in person appearance reviewed a week after we get her backstory in Life and Crimes. Though I am VERY happy it worked out this way as I get to properly celebrate the series end with more ducks than ever, and get to cover the pilot the same month as the finale, all things i’d of loved to do anyway and probably would’ve rejiggered my schedule to do. Point is lot of Ducktales content coming for this blog if you like that so stay tuned, but for now join me won’t you under the cut as we dive into a money bin of gay ducks, shadowy machinations, and Bad PR. 

We open as Lena and Donald awkwardly sit on the couch, waiting for Scrooge and the Kids to get home. Understandably it’s just.. dead silence.Given their a cynical teenager secretly working for and forced to obey a horrifying shadow monster and a 35 year old man who dosen’t like living in this house due to painful memories of his presumed dead sister.. and painful memories of pain in general, you have a huge awkward bowl of chips and “I really don’t want to be here right now”. 

Our heroes return though, and Louie tries to take some of their haul for himself but Scrooge stops that “It goes in the bin not to next of kin. “... Man in a Hurry if you would please. 

Thank you. Man in a Hurry everybody. He has to go now, he’s in a hurry. 

 As you can probably guess I do not like this, as it reminds me WAY too much of Scrooge’s worst “quirk” in the comics: how he’d barely pay his nephews, who are often hard up for cash mind you and one of whom is supporting three children ALONE, take them around the world and reap all the benefit for their hard work. It’s not like he did nothing, he did, but it’s way to exploitive for my tastes and can often sink a story if taken too far. It’s not AS bad... but they all went on the mission they all deserve at least something. I DO get keeping the rarest and most dangerous stuff for himself, as he is bankrolling things and does have two bins and a massive garage to safetly store them. But this just comes off as douchey for this version, who while liable to make mistakes with them, is far more nurturing towards his boys and girls. 

Thankfully this was course corrected next season. While Scrooge’s greed was properly restored.. this sort of treatment wasn’t. “Treasure of the Found Lamp” had him undergo character development and realize simply hoarding his treasures isn’t right or fair, and set up a musuem wing so both duckburg and his descendants can see them and get the stories behind them. And on not getting to take things clearly he’s eithe relaxed or stopped the policy as our heroes do have souveneers from time to time. Not a LOT mind, but little things like Dewey having a giant sword or Scrooge outright giving Louie one of his things show he did soften up. Though Della’s return and likely lack of tolerance for this stupid policy in the first place probably helped a lot, I also like to think he did change a bit and realize it was deeply unfair they didn’t get more than a few treasures of their own. So the writers did realize they kind of went overboard here.  I suspect this was more to setup for the episode’s subplot and to make Scrooge’s karma at the end feel justified. Speaking of which we get the start of said Subplot as Beakley comes in with a money cart and the news the board called. Why they called his house instead of his phone I don’t know, some things slip through the cracks when you running both a billion dollar company an da trillion dollar fiendish organization  for world larceny. I mean they clearly worked themselves so hard the other two apparently died between seasons. That or it was the diet of whiskey, orphan tears and grease in a wine glass both had. Bradford always told them it’d kill them though to his credit he only said I told you so twice at their funeral. 

For once no their not mad Scrooge is spending all the money they use to buy fowl jetskis, but because the Company’s having a bit of a PR nightmare now that Scrooge is back in the adventuring game. And we cut to the beanstalk they just adventured on having tore up a good chunk of the town and destroyed large swaths of it just to sell the point this isn’t their normal old man yells at other old man for spending all me money schitck, but a serious problem. As such they’ve booked him an interview with Roxanne Fetherly to improve his image and the companies. 

Scrooge scoffs at this, baffled why he has bad pr as his adventuring is GOOD for the city in the long run: He pays for any damages it causes, and likely at a cost no less which is a LOT coming from scrooge, and puts most of the money he makes on these adventures back into the city and his company, creating more jobs and better living conditions. He does get a wakeup call via  truly hilarous gag as Launchpad pops his head up to say “Good news mr. mcdee, it missed the orphange!” before getting ready to chainsaw the stalk for him. He quickly realizes MAYBE he needs some PR and agress to the interview. 

 This whole subplot really plays into one of the series main themes, one Frank brought up a few months back: Risk vs Reward. Adventuring is entirely about this, that adventure is dangerous, can cost you a lot as we see with Della and the aftermath of her terrible decision making, and can hurt people.. but it can also help people, bring money to those who need it, free those who are being oppressed and open new worlds to everyone. This subplot distills it down great: Scrooge is right that his adventures do bring in money, and as seen with the first episode brought in clean water and power with no drawbacks and only asked to be paid for it, which is fair given he still has to run machines and likely help relocate any workers whose jobs are now redundant to other parts of the company and retrain them. But it costs people their homes and jobs, not forever but still as long as it takes to construct, tears up roads and puts people in danger. It’s plots like this that make Bradford the perfect final boss for the series: He’s someone who blinds himself to the reward of all this and only sees the risk, and raises valid points even if he himself is deeply wrong. He’s right Scrooge causes a lot of danger and threat to the world.. but wrong in that he dosen’t see it’s all worth it for the good of everyone. 

But enough about future story arcs let’s get back to this one, as Webby excitedly greets Lena and hugs her, realizes she’s not hugging her back then gives her another squeeze anyway after claming to hate hugs when just a LOOK at Webby would tell you that’s false. The two are having a sleepover, Webby’s first ever.. and given Lena’s essentially an Emo Hobo and the closest thing she has to home is that starlight ancient amptheater that’s never properly explained. Seriously ancient ruins near Duckburg dosen’t suprise me, but at least tell me what they are and why Magica chose them. And why Louie hasn’t tried to sell tickets to Dewey boxing a gorilla in them. Or probably a possum I mean their on a budget and gorillas snap necks, but still i’d pay to see that as would we all. 

Point is it’s their first sleepover and naturally Webby’s first bit of smalltalk.. is how tucking in can be used for interogation techniques. I’d be more suprised if earlier this season it hadn’t already been shown Beakly regularly enrolls her daughter in the no murder, unless you really want to, hunger games every year. The fact Webby hasn’t become the bat is only because she hasn’t found a costume that’s the right combintion of pinks and purples to instill pantswetting terror yet. That shit takes time. 

Lena goes to the bathroom.. to talk to Magica who we properly get to meet. She did speak last time, but this ep is the one that properly establishes her personality for the reboot: she has clever plans, tons of power, if sealed currently, and is a genuine threat.. but she’s also a bit of a ham, in love with the old ultra violence and really short sighted in her plans, something we got hints of last time as her best solution to the Beakly Problem was  to just leave her to die and hope scrooge and webby, two people who love solving mysteries and unlocking puzzles, don’t investigate the horrifying death, accident or not, of their only friend and grandmother, and that neither, especially the 12 year old spiraling with grief, would suspect a former spy died. Thoguh in fairness on the spy thing it’s plausable Magica didn’t know that, but still it’s a bad plan. Magica has good ideas but is just so obessed with the brute force way of doing things she forgets the subtle approach works better.. and so far it has well for Lena.  Problem is it’s VERY clear by this point that Lena likes Webby, maybe not romantic styles JUST YET but it’s getting there. Webby on the otherhand has been in love with Lena from the freaking concept art which showed her blushing around her.. and that was in her 87 design.. which they thankfully changed. It’s not terrible but it just dosen’t fit well with this universe. Point is Lena is catching feelings and Magica realizes this and tries to gaslight her telling her she’d never acccept the truth abotu her and so on. As we all know and as we’ll see that’s bullshit but it’s an effective manipulation. We also find out Magica’s plan: she had Lena sneak a jewel into the treasure going into the bin, and it’s going to turn into a monster that will seek out the Number One Dime for them. She also vaugely hints that there’s something Lena needs from Magica. 

Once Lena returns, and Webby let’s her rabbit know the interogation isn’t over, she gives her possible future girlfirend a gift: friendship bracelets! They both put them on and it’s really fucking cute.. and will be both a tangible symbol of hteir friendship and a plot point several times, something I honestly hadn’t thoguht about till now. Lena, put off by the gesture not because she dosen’t aprpciate it because of the crushing guilt of lying to the one person who cares about her under the insucrtions of a sociopath, goes to Webby’s big old corkboard which is always fun to look at.. especially since it’s clearly the ONLY glimpse at Hortense we’re going to get all series. 

We’re not getting Grandma Duck either. Though at least Frank actually regrets that one. But the important part is one of the posts mentoniing Scrooge hates magic, something Webby elaborates on: He hates spells, hexs curses and what not and feels them a shortcut.  From the man who has a garage full of them. 

I do kid as I did realize there’s a valid expliantion for this: Scrooge will use magical items, protection spells that sort of thing.. but he uses them like anything else as needed. He’s too pragmatic to not say, use the jewel of atlantis to give a city clean energy and water he can montizie, or the split sword against FOWL.. but more often than not he just dosen’t need them. He collects them because it’s fun, oftne profitable.. and their simply SAFER in his museum wing, garage and second bin will get to in two weeks. He’s seen time and time again how people misuse magic, forget it has a price, or just rely on it instead of actual skill. He’s also clearly been on the bad end of a LOT of evil sorcerers and soreceresses, especially magica. Magic isn’t inherently bad, which in itself is a BIG message of Lena’s arc, it’s just somethign that’s the OPPPSOITE OF everythign scrooge is: sacrifcing others for power, relying on something besides yourself, distance attacks versus up close and personal phsycial attacks.. it was never going to be for him and tons of bad experinces with it only cemented it. He’s just not so stubborn outside of the santa thing to avoid something if it’s going to net him a profit or come in a pinch. 

So naturally Scrooge has banned any magic books from his house, as he has no use for spellcasting and any he’d need to keep for saftey or history’s sake are likely at the archives, but just as naturally, Webby smuggled one in and wants to try it with Lena ducking it and asking to play some games. I”m sure Huey has a few yugioh decks in his room go bug him. But before they can decide on one, the boys attack for a PILLOW FIGHT.... which is a sweet gesture and them just wanting to hang out, but ends with them all eating the ground and questioning why they thought attacking the duck equilvent of cassandra cain was a good idea. Louie decides to salvage it with a swim.. but since their pool has a boat in it he has a diffrent location in mind: the bin.

So while they head off to get head injuries, Beakly tries to prepare Scrooge as the Media are vultures and looking for the next scandal with public figures and it’s accurate. But given Scrooge’s natural mood is grumpus, this dosen’t go well at all and even a spray bottle dosen’t exactly help.. I mean it is the best method to deal with grumpy old men but it can only do so much. 

At the bin we get a lovely bit as Dewey prepares to dive and his brothers treat it like an olympic one, with both doing commentary, Dewey’s apparently response to if he was worried about brain damage was Nerp, and we get the wonderous national anthem of dewdonia. Just nice as well as lovely to see the brothers just having a crack and enjoying each others company with their own weird injokes but without the injokes feeling as forced as they were in “Beagle Birthday Massacre”. Things take a turn though as we see just what magica created with the stone... a giant shark made of scrooges money who eats that fucker in a single bite.. in this case Dewey. Louie and Huey naturally run off panicked.

So while Huey and Louie gain another scarring memory to tell their therapist when their older, Scrooge begins his interview with Roxanne Fetherly who.. honestly just weirds me out. Not for any personality stuff but because she has green feathers. And it just.. really feels WEIRD. I mean green ducks are a thing in real life.. but it just looks off to have such a pastel color on a duck when the other colors are white or tones meant to invoke real world races, allowing ducks to be black, latino, asian and so on and so on coded. That’s fine and blends in fine.. but with that metaphor the green just really dosen’t fit well at all. It feels like an early decision they made, but decided not to retcon or go with for anyone else which makes it all the more weird. We’re 3 seasons in , almost at the end, and the only other green duck we’ve seen was like that because of magic and the offputting nature of it WORKS for magica. Here I just don’t get it and I never well. But naturally Roxanne starts in on invasive, gotcha questions with no real good answers or time to respond, so fox news level questions, and then asks what part of ireland he’s from. 

Naturally that sets him off so while that rant goes on, literally next time we see him he’s still going on about it, we cut to the girls playing truth or dare.. and given Webby’s first question is about deepest darkest secrets the boys once again save her by running in... to report on the monster she created that just ate their brother. Lena brushes it off but does get them not to go to scrooge claming he’ll throw them to the shark himself. I mean he’s not comics scrooge so he probably woudln’t but their also two scared 11-12 year olds so it works well enough. They just need a way to go after the money shark. Enter launchapd who in the second best bit of the episode, says he sensed his best friend dewey was in danger. Beck’s delivery is what sells it.. and I’m not going to question it. He’s somehow alive despite presumibly living off a diet of spaghett-o’s, barely avoiding a car accident on his best days, and as we’ll find out later believing children in costumes are monsters he summoned when he was 8. The fact he suddenly has spider sense specifically related to people he cares about is honestly less of a surprise than the fact he’s not in heaven crashing God’s Speedboat into God’s Golden Castle with God’s Golden Lion riding shotgun. 

So they do the natural thing and.. steal Donald’s houseboat while he sleeps. He has no more involvement in this episode other than noticing it’s back and not in great condition at the end. I bring this up because this is one of Donalds ONLY apperances this season, and it’s part of the larger more irritating problem that he’s hardly ever used.. despite promoting him as a major part of the series. 

I will talk about this more during the Della arc as i’ts more relevant there, but needless to say it bothers me a lot and not knowing how to ballance it’s massive main cast was a constant struggle for the series even up to the final episodes going on right now. 

So our heroes head out on the bin late at night, where could the Jaw$ be she’s nowhere in sight. So they decide to use other treasure as a lure they either fished out of a bin or out of scrooge’s bathwater. How bathing in coins gets him clean I don’t know and frankly I dont’ think we want the answers to that and the idea of scrooge fully naked is so horrifying I forgot what I was talking about.

Ah yes our heroes are playing bait the money monster and find out it’s a shark, and Lena.. is not okay with that and goes to talk to Magica inside the boat. Magica tells us she has a name, Tiffany. Awww what a lovely name for a money shark. I would of gone with Rags to Bitches, but I may have brain damage.  Lena understandabily does not like the idea of getting eaten by a shark, asked to be informed and while Magica is mad at her for going after the thing, Lena reasonably points out that it was this or Scrooge got involved.  Up top Huey tries catching it with a bit of treasure on a rope.. after not shutting up about shark facts because “Facts comfort me when i’m nervous!” Precious angel. But Huey’s leg gets caught and he and Louie, somehow on the latter get thrown up in the air and chomped. Back bellow Webby has a suggestion: using magic. Lena naturally not wanting to blow her cover or really liking magic period is against it for now. 

Back at the interview, Roxanne brings on a special guest to prove people don’t like scrooge: GLOMGOLD!

Glomgold may create some issues for the subplot and we’ll get to those in due time, but damn if it isn’t always a pleasure to see him. He’s also on good terms with Roxanne... are.. are we sure this is local news and not fox news? Taking the word of a conservative greedy billionare over a progressive one seems like a fox move. Though I might actually watch fox news if glomgold was a commentator.  “I propose a red new deal instead of this blasted green new deal, I throw Scrooge to a tank of sharks connected to a generator, the tank turns red with his blood and that somehow creates power! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT MCDUCK” 

So we get the best bit of the episode as Glomgold tries to complain about his building being destroyed which would be fair... if he hadn’t tried to blow up Scrooge’s bin twice this week, with Glomgold going for THREE.. for threee.. for three... it dosen’t go off but it does get scrooge to say he’s glad the building was destroyed. Which is fair but NOT super great PR.  

Back at the shark things don’t get better as Webby and Lena argue over the use of magic, I mean as much as they can argue Webby just wants to know why she’s so cagey about this while they go with plan “Launchpad crash into it”. Launchpad also gives a hell of a monologue. Good on you bud. As you can see launchpad’s gotten 100% better since his low point in our last episode. That’s because it’s clear the writers had some struggle ballancing his amped up stupidity with actual competence, making him primarily jokey comic relief in the first few episodes and I wouldn’t be shocked if Terror of The Terra Firmians was written before a lot of the later episodes despite airing around the same time. But by mid-season he’s got his much more lovable charactersation of a dangerous moron..l but one who CAN be competent and is genuinely charming due to how much he cares about his friends and his job. They also dialed down the stupid down to an acceptable homer simpson level: still a danger to himself and others but hilariously so. Point is they fixed it and while i’ll complain about mistakes the show made I will give this crew all the credit for course correcting time and time again and actually listening to fan feedback.

So Webby figures they tried the Jaws option and lost the boat and launchpad, time for plan Magic. They hold hands, EEEEEEEEE, and try a spell.. and it clearly starts working but almost works TOO well, as Lena starts glowing first purple.. then blue. Hmmmm... intresteing. Lena breaks it off and Tiffany breaks out of the bin.. just as scrooge says on the news his adventures aren’t dangerous. 

Scrooge naturally goes to face it while Webby wonders why Lena didn’t go for it. To make it a triple Scrooge shows up in time to distract tiffany.. with the number one dime, which as lena found out earlier is on his person rather than at the bin like the public thinks. So while Scrooge puts up a good show.. seriously it’s really awesome and really neat looking, though he also gets VERY upset that people are naturally holding out buckets for the cash shark, which he’s not happy about because well.. he did EARN that money. Most bin money is stuff directly earned by him so fair enough. But while he’s you know, Scrooge Fucking McDuck, and thus puts up a good fight the monster eats him.. and gets the dime stuck in it’s tooth with Magica wanting Lena to grab for it, forgetting that minons, while mildly disposable, aren’t really replaceable when your SOUL’S ATTACHED TO THEM. That’s where Magica’s weakness is. her plans aren’t half bad but as I said, she’s far too bloodthirsty and short sighted. She has better ones than glomgold but ironcially they share the same problem of not thinkign them through. And Magica cares so little for lena she’s blinded to the fact her own personal saftey is tied up in her. 

Lena naturally dives for her future girlfrriend and heads into the belly of the beast. And it’s here her REAL moment of truth is. While the one last episode was noble.. it was also easy enough to brush off internal as pragmatisim. Letting Beakly die would’ve brought too much heat and been too easy to quickly go terrible, while saving her got her off Lena’s trail and gave her free reign of the manner. But here? Webby is about to slip into Tiffany’s stomach and whle she hasn’t digested anyone yet given who made Tiffany with it’s likely just because she hasn’t had enough mass to create chainsaws to carve them all up. It’s the Dime or Webby. Lena’s own freedom or the girl she loves. Nothing good comes from saving Webby.. other than Webby. Other than the one person whose truly loved her. I mean think about it: She was created by magica, abused for a good decade and a half. No one but Magica has had a chance to care about her and as we’ve seen Magica only sees her as a weapon to get back at scrooge and not as a person. Webby was the first person she’s ever made a genuine connection with, that’s been there for her, that loves her unconditionally and woiuld be there for her no matter what. And it’s in that moment Lena realizes she can’t sacrifice her for her own good... that after years of having to be selfish to surivive being chained to that monster... she can’t be this time. No mastter what it costs her.. Webby is priceless. So Lena recites the spell, growing bright blue and blowing up tiffany. Lena gladly hugs webby who reciorpates, awww gaybies, and Launchpad hugs dewey. Awww... what it’s still precious he’s a good surrogate uncle. The wacky kind who sleeps in a van on your lawn. 

So Scrooge is glad.. though it’s here his subplot falls flat. Him getting attacked by the media and getting a compupance by loosing tons of money from tiffany is fine. Evne if he earned it, his lack of care did bring this on him.. hte problem is they take it too far by having all his nemies show up, him unable to say anything and glomgold blatantly doing so just to steal from him. Otherwise the subplot is fine, a bit heavy on scrooge being a dick but it has to to work and puts him in an awkward situation. But this ending just feels to over the top to realy enjoy. And the series does do over the top humor well so I don’t know what happened here. But having a bunch of outright thieves steel his money instad of a bunch of citizens who didn’t know better and deserved it for the damage, feels wrong and it tastes wrong. 

Speaking of feels wrong and tastes wrong we get an INTEINTONAL dose of that as back at the amptheater, Lena and Magica argue about the situation and Magica trying to kill her. Lena tries to walk away but can’t.. phsyically. Magica won’t let her. And this is honestly a very crushing and very well crafted metaphor for how abuse victims sometimes CAN’T escape their abusers. Magica is verbally abusive, treats lena like she’s disposable and constnatly downtalks her self esteem. To Lena magica is nothing but a tool.. but like MANY children caught in horrifcally abusive situations Lena can’t get away. It’s a literal metaphor, an da good one, for how you can’t ALWAYS escape abuse easily, and this especially true for kids who have nowhere to go and hte law on their abusers side more often than not. It’s hard to escape an abusive parent and even harder when they dont’ consider you a person. I thankfully have no personal experince with this but it dosen’t make it any less of a problem nor any less noble of this show to tackle the subject in a frank, if fantastical, way, and a good chunk of Lena’s arc is overcoming this abuse and not letting her abusive past drown her. But for now.. all she can do is agree to do what Magica says till she can hopefully be rid of her. But the light at the end of the tunnel’s coming.. there’s just a whole lotta darkness first. 

Next Time: We take a break from the episodes to cover some Lena related comics for a double feature; The first Spies Like Us has everyones faviorite lesbian ducks go on a spy adventure that was never printed in the us for silly reasons we’lll get to and then the 87 ducktales comic dime after dime which features Lena’s predecessor Minima. 

Later Today: Close Enough Season 2 is here! I”m going to talk about it! Exclimation Points! 

If you liked this review feel free to follow for more. And if you have an episode of Ducktales or another animated show you’d like me to cover just hit me up via my asks or direct messages on here and comission it. And if you’d rather just support me on a monthly basis, head over to my patreon. THE LINK IS RIGHT HERE.  Even a buck a month would help and the more of you that donate the closer we get to my Duckcentric stretch goals. The current closest ones are 15, which would lead to reviews of The Goofy Movies and Treasure of the Lost Lamp, and 20 which would lead both to a review of the Super Ducktales mini series, and monthly darkwing duck reviews! So if you like me talking about ducks and want to bolt some duck reviews to the schedule, even a dollar a month would inch me closer to that goal. Eveyr bit helps. But money or not, it’s been a pleasure and i’ll see you at the next rainbow. 

[tamatoashiny123]

A Day In The Life (Part 2: Afternoon)

2 PM:

Drakken, Shego, and several minions were now piled inside Drakken’s red aircraft on their way to the convention. Shego was reading a novella while Drakken stared out the window.

“You know something, Shego? I’ve never liked these long flights over the Pacific. They’re always so boring and there’s no good scenery to look down on.”

“Mmm, how sad,” Shego muttered, focusing on her book.

Drakken had an idea. He turned to face his associate. “Hey, Shego?”

“Hmm?”

“I spy with my-“

“No, Drakken.”

“C’mon, Shego! Don’t be such a killjoy!”

Shego sighed and put her book down. “Fine, I’ll play your little game.”

“Excellent! Now, I spy with my little eye something…blue!”

“Is it the ocean?”

“Wow, you’re good at this! OK, your turn!”

“Fine. I spy with my little eye…a blue doofus who signs my paychecks.”

Drakken thought about her question for a moment before realizing the answer. “…is it me?”

“Bingo.”

Drakken grumbled and turned back towards the window. “OK, that’s enough of that game.”

Shego smirked and went back to her novella.

4 PM:

At the Palo Alto Scientist Convention, archaeologist Libby Mentz was presenting her amber at her booth on the convention floor. A dozen scientists surrounded her oohed and aahed and what they saw.

“Miss Mentz,” one scientist called out, “how did you find this amazing discovery?”

“It’s a funny story,” Libby replied. “Back in 1951, John F. Kennedy’s father-“

A hole was suddenly cut in the roof above the booth. Shego fell through the hole and landed on her feet while Drakken took the safer route and was lowered into the building via a rope ladder.

“Greetings, fellow scientists!” Drakken exclaimed. “I, Doctor Drakken, am taking this DNA in order to create an unstoppable dinosaur of my own! So hand it over, Libby!”

“No.”

Drakken was stunned. “N-no?! Shego, can she do that?!”

“She could,” Shego shrugged. “I wouldn’t advise her to do that, though.”

Drakken growled and stomped his foot. “You give me that amber right now!”

“No way! Find your own DNA source!”

“Well, if I steal yours, I won’t have to! Now hand it over!”

As Drakken and Libby struggled for the amber, Shego spotted three security guards running towards them. Rolling her eyes, she unleashed three plasma blasts that sent the men flying across the room.

As she did that, Drakken wrestled the amber out of her hands and shoved her to the ground. “It’s mine!” he exclaimed. “The DNA is all mine! MUAHAHAHAHA!”

“And the rest of you eggheads better not try to do anything about that,” Shego told the crowd of scientists, “unless you want to get blasted back to the Stone Age.”

“The only stones you two need to worry about is the stoney lonesome we send you to,” a familiar voice quipped.

The crowd parted, revealing a red-headed female spy and a blond male spy with a naked mole rat in his pocket.

“Kim Possible?!” Drakken exclaimed. “How did you know that we’d be here?!”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist a convention filled with scientific goodies for you to try to steal,” Kim replied.

“Honestly, it’s a bit predictable,” Ron pointed out.

Shego lunged at Kim, and the pair exchanged kicks and punches. “In Drakken’s defense,” Shego said as she tried to kick Kim in the head, “he didn’t plan on coming here until he came up with a dumb scheme this morning involving a seagull and baffling logic.”

“The baffling logic part checks out,” Kim noted as she ducked the kick. “The seagull part? Not so much.”

Meanwhile, Drakken and Ron circled each other…and engaged in their traditional style of fighting that consisted of blindly flailing their arms at each other.

“Hey, watch it around the eyes!” Ron whined.

“When was the last time you trimmed your fingernails?” Drakken complained. “Ow! Ow!”

As the two males flailed about, Shego cornered Kim against a table. Kim was able to catch one wrist while Shego lit up her other hand and slowly lowered it towards Kim’s head.

“Maybe you should give up, Princess,” Shego taunted. “I’d hate to have to ruin that pretty face.”

“Oh, you think I’m pretty?”

Kim suddenly raised her head up, catching Shego in the lip and knocking her back. With her foe stunned, Kim lifted Shego up, spun around, and slammed her through the table.

“Well, I’m pretty good at taking you down,” Kim quipped.

“Ugh, is that really the line you went with?” Shego groaned from the ground.

“What? It’s the first thing I could think of to say.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

Across the room, Drakken shoulder-checked Ron, sending him tumbling across a table. Seeing Kim standing over Shego, he reached into the inside of his lab coat and pulled out a death ray. “You want to stop me from stealing that dinosaur DNA, Possible?” he called out. “Then I’ll make you extinct!”

Ron popped his head out from the other side of the table and put Rufus into his hands. “Go long, bud!”

Ron chucked Rufus at Drakken. He climbed onto his hand and bit down on his hand, causing him to drop the death ray.

“Ow!” he screamed. “I swear, if you just gave me rabies-“

“Relax,” Ron told him, “Rufus has had all of his shots.”

“Oh, I’ll give you some shots,” Drakken grunted as he reached down to pick up the death ray. As he did, Rufus scurried into Drakken’s pocket, pulled out the amber Drakken had stored there, and ran away with it. “Hey! Get back here!”

While Drakken chased after Rufus with Ron close behind, Kim was being chased by Shego. “Come here, Cupcake!” she shouted as she blasted at Kim, who ducked. Kim took out her grappling hook, shot it at a support beam, and pulled herself up to where a decorative banner that read ‘Welcome Scientists!’

“Hey, Kim,” Shego called up to her, “you know the saying: what goes up-“

“-must come down? Trust me, that’s the plan.”

Kim ripped the banner off the wall and jumped down. She managed to evade a plasma blast, then came down to the ground, draping the banner over Shego’s body.

“I can’t see!” Shego shouted, blindly shooting plasma blasts out of the banner.

“That’s the point,” Kim teased as she punched Shego in the head, causing her to crumble to the floor.

“MUAHAHAHAHA! I’ve got you now!”

Kim turned to see that Drakken had cornered Rufus and was pointing his death ray to the rodent. Ron was on the other side of the room on his back and holding his head, apparently having been hit by one of Shego’s stray plasma beams.

“You, my friend, are about to become a very very endangered species,” Drakken menaced.

Luckily, the booth that was demonstrating a prototype bubble launcher was right next to Kim. Grabbing it off the table, Kim aimed it at Drakken and fired a green bubble that quickly expanded and enveloped the villain.

“What?! Hey! Let me out of this, Possible!” Drakken shouted, pounding against the bubble as Rufus scurried over to check on Ron. Meanwhile, Kim walked over and casually leaned against the bubble.

“Hate to burst your bubble, Drakken,” Kim teased, “but you’re not going anywhere.”

Shego pulled the banner off of her body and saw her trapped boss. Thinking quickly, she shot a plasma beam at the roof, causing debris to begin to crumble down on the scientists who were watching the fight. Grunting, Kim ran over and began to shoot bubbles that trapped the debris.

“I hate to pop your bubble, Kimmy,” Shego called out as she began to roll Drakken towards the hole in the roof they created with their arrival, “but it seems you have other pressing matters to attend to.”

“Uh, I just said that,” Kim groaned, still focused on containing the debris. “Uncreative much?”

“Hey, I said ‘pop’. You said ‘burst’. There’s a difference.”

“It’s the same thing!”

“You’re right! In fact, I think plagiarizing your quip was the biggest crime that was committed here today.”

“Shego, could you stop engaging Kim Possible in witty banter and get me out of this thing?!” Drakken shouted.

“Not enough time,” Shego told him, pulling out a walkie-talkie to talk to the minions on the aircraft. “Send down the tractor beam to extract us. We’re getting outta here.”

A green beam shot down from the roof hole, enveloped the two, and pulled them up to the ship. “Kim Possible,” Drakken shouted at his foe as he floated up, “you think you and your bubbles are all that! But you’re noooooot!”

When the pair were safe inside the aircraft, it sped off into the horizon. Kim watched as it did, frustrated that she was forced to let them get away.

“Kim,” Ron called to her, “look what Rufus still has.”

Rufus scampered over to Kim and handed her the amber he had taken back from Drakken. She examined it, making sure it wasn’t damaged. After she was sure it was perfectly intact, she began to assess the damage to the room and make sure the scientists were OK after what just occurred.

To Be Concluded…

[blissfulsun]

hey!!! your writing is soo amazing💞💞 could you please do #14 and #11 with Jeff🥺🥰

hello lovely!! thank u that acc means the world to me😩❣️ sorry this took a lil longer than I thought it would but I hope you like this one😚

word count: 1,462

Miscommunications // Jeff Wittek

There was something about LA when the sun had just come up, the city of angles usually a far fetched name in reality.

Although, if you asked Jeff, he'd let it slip he knows one personally.

That's how he saw you, an angel who could do no wrong in his eyes.

His moods never affected negatively in your calming presence, short temper manageable with you around.

The others thought you were magic at first, or at least, really good in bed before they found out what the two of you had was only friendship.

Granted, if Jeff had it his way you would've progressed past that stage by now also.

If you were the angel between the pair of you, he must be the devil.

He really wished he had a pitchfork handy right about now, watching you smile and nod in conversation with someone other than himself.

Hikes were your guys thing, sure, Todd tagged along sometimes if he wasn't too hungover to function.

But ultimately it was y/n & Jeff, most of the city still asleep giving him time to start his day right, with you by his side.

This guy didn't seem to get the memo, picking up friendly conversation when you tried to take a picture of a fidgeting Nerf at the top of the hill.

Anyway, Jeff thinks his name was Lake or something? And he was really good at making you laugh apparently, as the two of you walked slightly ahead on your way down.

'Green is not your colour bro' Todd teases, interested to see his best friend appear so threatened by a stranger half a head shorter.

Jeff only mutters in reply but Todd catches the '...need to find a new hiking trail' in his rushed rambling.

They continue the rest of the way in silence, your laughter and Nerf's heavy breathing in his ear the only sounds.

'Great!! I'll text you about it...' Jeff feels his mood dampen further with your declaration.

You're waving your new friend off, cause that's all he is in truth, and then you're sat in the passenger seat of your crush's car again.

The car ride feels weirdly tense, silence taking over your usual routine of playful bickering and singing off key to each other.

You try and not over think it, though it's often your favourite past time.

Not in this friendship with Jeff though, you both stressed how important trust and communication is early on in your budding relationship.

Granted, he was hoping that conversation to form a kind of foundation for something else, but at this point he has settled for at least having you in his life, just the thought of a you shaped absence leaving him cold.

You snap out of thought when Jeff takes a left instead of a right, confusion evident in your question 'You missed a turn bub, I thought we were going to your apartment?’

His hands tighten their grasp around the wheel momentarily. 'I have a couple of errands today, just gonna drop you off home.' His decision causes both of your hearts to sink.

Jeff knows he's being short with you, the reaction driven by red hot jealousy mostly beyond his control. 'I could go with you?' his clenched jaw unwinds slightly at the tender tone you take on.

Your mind is spinning, the two of you were pratically attached at the hip, always getting chores and jobs alike done with your partner in crime. 

Jeff sighs, the frustration evident in his tense shoulders. 'Not today y/n/n' He feels even worse when he catches a glimpse at your crest fallen expression in the rearview mirror.

Neither of you speaks for the rest of the short ride. On a normal day, you'd be dreading the sight of your home nearing, the incoming goodbyes with Jeff (though short lived) always heavy on your heart, but for once it provides unexpected relief.

You can't get out of the car fast enough, hands shakily gripping to remove the seat belt before Jeff has even properly parked.

'Woah woah, angel why are you in such a rush?' He's trying to lighten the mood, wanting to keep you within the close proximity for a little longer despite his own contradicting plans. 

The bitterness with which you deliver your response feels foreign, 'I don't know, wouldn't want to keep you from your errands.' You regret it in an instant, especially when you register Jeff's lost expression upon first glance.

And then it changes, his brow furrows & there's a determined glint in his eyes as he turns off the engine and locks all the doors, effectively trapping you inside.

‘Are you going to start seeing that guy?' straight to the point, he's fed up of dancing around these feelings.

Hell, if he's going to lose you it might as well be because to unreciprocated feelings instead of the annoyingly friendly hiker. 

'What??-' You're stumped. He's left you speechles plenty before, though in far different scenarios. 'You mean Luke?' Jeff's eyes roll involuntarily, 'I mean, we chatted about maybe grabbing lunch sometime. But it wasn't anythi-'

‘-you seemed to like him. Reckon you'll be a cute couple. You want to put our hikes on pause? Let you get to know-' the pair of you continue to interrupt each other.

‘I...how could you ask me that? What are you even saying?' You're not sure what to feel, anger, hurt and confusion all mixing a dangerous cocktail in your gut. 

It hits you suddenly, a crashing wave of realisation. You stumble between thoughts, mind incapable of wrapping around the fact Jeff, is jealous.

The next couple of minutes feel cruicial as you wonder: how long? is he just being protective? holy shit I'm in love with you please feel the same way.

You clear your throat before speaking. 'I'm not intrested in Luke. Not in going on hikes with him or even really grabbing that coffee, I would rather do those things with you.'

Jeff's heart is losing some of it's extra weight as you continue. 'wanna run stupid errands and walk Nerf with you..or really anything else you might want t-'

'-go out with me.' It feels amazing to say, the feeling only growing as he reaches for your smaller hand.

You squeeze once, staring at the soft smile reflected in his eyes, a short breath leaves you before you're eagerly nodding.

‘Yeah? ...forget about coffee doll, I'll take you to dinner instead.' And then he's coming closer. You're not sure what to focus on, the warmth of his skin on your hand or the still decreasing space between your faces.

Jeff leans across your frame...and opens the passanger door. 'I'll pick you up at 8?' He's not really asking, smug in the realisation of his effect on you.

Your cheeks redden and you scramble to get out the car. 'What am I meant to wear?' -'Whatever you want doll, you look perfect in everything' It feels good to finally let his thoughts and words roam free, no filter enforced.

You watch him reverse and drive off, baffled by how quickly he regained control of the situation despite your initial advantage, though you can't say you're mad. Legs buckling as you rush to get inside and prepared despite the early hour of the day.

Meanwhile, Jeff calls in for back up, all of your available friends helping him plan the perfect date to wow his future girl with.

He's half aware that though the effort will be appreciated, you would be just as happy taking a simple drive or grabbing some take out and spending the rest of the night on his sofa. 

There will be plenty of that still, he thinks, allowing his mind to wander to thoughts of holding you in his arms and kissing you whenever he likes for the first time in a long while.

It's suddenly a possibility again, that particular reminder stays with him as he cleans up and shows up at your door.

He's perfectly on time, having sat in his car in your driveway for a good couple of minutes to calm his erratic heart. All nerves disappear when the door opens and you're illuminated by the colourful dawn behind him.

Jeff has always thought you're an angel, this, only serves as confirmation to his beliefs as you stand before him. 'You look amazing tonight...' the compliment is delivered while breathless, much like how he's left you feeling at first glance.

‘Thank you' you beam at him and he takes the leap to grab your hand.

There's no clumsy firsts, you fall into each other as if it's habit, the rest of the night the beginning of it all, exactly what Jeff, and secretly yourself, have been waiting on for far too long.

[wordsablaze]

10~ the chance to see the light

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: 2021 is lowkey already a mess so here some good vibes with these two dorks being almost the exact opposite !!

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @cloudspeck @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @havenoffandoms @lasaga666 @mayastormborn 

previous chapter

-

The market is loud.

So incredibly loud.

Eskel has rarely ever come across a market so loud and even if he has, he’s never stayed longer than just passing by for necessities or just travelling through to leave town. Crowded places can never exactly be a witcher’s best friend due to all the mutations so no matter what, Eskel always feels a little on edge in markets.

Jaskier on the other hand seems to be in his element from the moment they enter the crowds. He greets practically every merchant they see even though he buys nothing from them, which baffles Eskel, who’s used to often buying things he doesn’t remotely need from various people because he feels bad for wasting their time, but it seems to be the norm for Jaskier - he figures it’s a bard thing. And a pretty endearing bard thing at that.

Well, it’s endearing until Eskel bumps into someone, swivels on the spot as they both apologise to one another, and then turns back to find Jaskier gone.

“Jaskier?” he asks, but said bard is nowhere to be seen.

Eskel groans, his mind unhelpfully reminding him of the siren incident, and cranes his neck to look over the people around him to try and spot either Jaskier’s lute or his bright doublet. When he can find neither, he sighs and starts moving, mumbling apologies every time he has to literally push past the sheer number of people that he didn’t even think could fit in this town and hope none of them think badly of him for it.

He’s just beginning to think Jaskier had used the market as an excuse to be rid of him when someone crashes into him but instead of immediately jumping back, latches onto his arm with a surprising amount of strength.

“Eskel, there you are!” Jaskier grins, steadying himself but still not letting go. “I am so sorry for disappearing, I didn’t know you’d stopped walking.”

Eskel exhales slowly, nodding. “That’s okay. There’s just, uh, a lot of people here.”

Jaskier’s expression softens into sympathy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would be so crowded. You can never really tell which towns go for the morning rush until you’re part of it, unfortunately. Do you want to leave?”

Eskel blinks at being given the choice. He’d figured that, the same way he’d taken responsibility whilst hunting a siren, Jaskier would decide their plans whilst hunting a mirror. “No, that’s fine, just… let me know where you’re going next time?”

He means for it to be a joke but Jaskier frowns, biting his lip as he slowly lets go of Eskel’s arm. The small distance that creates between them doesn’t last long because Jaskier hesitantly slips his hand into Eskel’s, not quite gripping it properly but carefully holding his fingers in place as if waiting for approval.

As much as Eskel wants to provide said approval, he hesitates. “Are you sure? That’d send a pretty clear message that we’re… that you’re friends with a… with me.”

Jaskier smiles softly, somewhat sadly. “We are friends, darling.”

“But this is different and-”

“I know,” Jaskier interrupts, “but I can’t promise I won’t get distracted again and I don’t want to get overwhelmed with your witchery senses and all.”

Oh, so Jaskier is just being considerate. Eskel chides himself for thinking anything on the contrary and nods, returning Jaskier’s smile as best as he can because he’s not about to refuse him when he’s just trying to help. “That’s very kind of you.”

Another frown flickers across Jaskier’s face but he doesn’t explain it, only nods and gently squeezes Eskel’s hand as he firmly interlocks their fingers, so Eskel doesn’t question it, letting himself be guided to the different stalls.

If later asked, he wouldn’t be able to recall what anyone was selling at any of the stalls. What he would be able to recall is the way their hands may as well have been made for being held, the way he could feel a firm tug all the way up to his shoulder every time Jaskier turned to admire something or the other, the way Jaskier turned around with a look of concern if Eskel didn’t move fast enough when being pulled along.

He genuinely has no idea how much time passes before Jaskier comes to a complete stop with a rather dramatic gasp. “That one! Oh, Eskel, isn’t it lovely?” Jaskier asks, gesturing to a small, circular mirror.

The merchant seems a little sceptical to hand it over at first, presumably not a huge fan of witchers, but Eskel watches as his gaze travels to their connected hands before his doubt morphs into amusement. When he looks up again, he’s smiling and offers the object up with no hesitation, which is a little confusing but it’s not like Eskel is going to question it.

“Well, what do you think?” Jaskier asks as Eskel takes the mirror, squeezing his hand in what could be excitement or support but is appreciated either way.

It’s a pretty simple design, with one side smoothed down perfectly to create a reflective surface and the other side curved outwards with a flower carved into it. He shrugs. “It’s really nice.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes. “Melitele save us from witchers and their limited reviews. It’s a rose, Eskel. It’s not just really nice, it’s perfect!”

Well, if Jaskier is so determined to continue comparing him to roses, he’s not going to complain regardless of how much he disagrees. And yes, upon further inspection the carving is an impressively delicate rose, so he smiles. “It’s really perfect?” he offers.

Both Jaskier and the merchant laugh, and Eskel is so distracted that he forgets to pay attention to how much Jaskier is spending on the mirror, on him. He’s drawn out of his thoughts when Jaskier tugs on his hand again, grinning.

“You’ll be happy to know we can leave now!” he announces. Although Eskel is more than relieved to finally get out of the sensory mess otherwise known as a market, he selfishly doesn’t want to let go of Jaskier’s hand yet.

“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Not really, no. I replaced my lute strings not long ago and we just ate and I don’t really have much coin left anyway because the patrons of this town aren’t particularly generous so there’s nothing keeping us.”

With a sigh, realising there’s no excuse for them to stay attached any longer, Eskel releases his hold on Jaskier’s hand and starts walking back the way they came. He makes it about three steps before the scent of honey he’s so quickly become comforted by turns sour. Though when he turns to see what’s happened, Jaskier is smiling as if there’s nothing wrong.

“You forgot your mirror, Eskel,” Jaskier tells him with a nervous chuckle, holding out said object.

He takes it from him but that can’t have been the matter because Jaskier still smells the way Lambert does when Vesemir withholds his brewing privileges. Before he can ask, Jaskier brushes past him and speeds up so quickly that Eskel almost loses sight of him again before he manages to catch up.

“Jaskier? What is it, did something happen?” he asks eventually, by the time they’re nearer the inn and there are less people around.

Jaskier shakes his head but doesn’t stop walking. Eskel glances between him and the mirror, which he then pockets so he doesn’t break it, before sighing, confused. “Do you need more coin?”

That seems to have been the wrong way to go about fixing things because Jaskier turns on his heel and folds his arms, all but glowering at him. “I do not and will never need your pity coin, I am perfectly capable of covering my own expenses, thank you very much!”

Eskel wants to disagree, considering that Jaskier is currently wearing his spare clothes, but he also has the feeling that Jaskier wouldn’t take too kindly to him pointing that out. Instead, he just shrugs. “I’m sorry, bardling, I didn’t mean to imply-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Jaskier interrupts once more, but this time he just sounds tired, his previous determination long-gone. “Just tell me honestly, was it really that bad?”

“What?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier gestures vaguely to nothing in particular and yet somehow looks surprised when Eskel doesn’t seem to catch on. He sighs quietly. “You know, holding hands?”

Wait, what? Oh gods, Eskel seems to have completely missed something here. And apparently Jaskier has too, because he seems equally as lost when he sees that Eskel has no idea what he means, his glum transforming into uncertainty.

“How about we go inside first?” Eskel suggests, which he feels is the most logical course of action since the inn is within sight.

The second they’re back in their room, having deposited their respective lute and swords on the floor, Jaskier whirls and gives Eskel a pointed look. “You let go of my hand. I think it’s better you explain why instead of me standing here and guessing.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Eskel says honestly, “you said you were helping me in the market and I didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness once we left.”

Jaskier scowls, but it’s clearly not directed at him because the next thing he does is launch himself forwards and throw his arms around Eskel, who definitely doesn’t stumble in a not entirely unpleasant shock, no sir.

“All due respect, darling, but you witchers can be so stupidly obtuse,” Jaskier mumbles into his shoulder and Eskel laughs, letting himself relax into the embrace and waiting patiently until Jaskier eventually pulls back, thankfully free of any sourness.

“Just to clarify then: this is permission to uhm, hold your hand even when we’re not in markets?” Eskel asks, swallowing down the awkwardness he can sense burning inside him even as the words leave his mouth.

Jaskier grins. “Yes, even the mightiest of witchers are allowed to engage in the more ordinary act of hand-holding.”

Although he’s sure his doesn’t have quite the same charm to it, a matching grin blooms on Eskel’s face. “You know, I thought it was rather extraordinary, actually.”

Just as Eskel had predicted, there’s about three seconds of confusion before Jaskier blushes and his grin once again widens in a way that seems impossible and highly dangerous. He’d say it must be another bard thing but he’s beginning to think it’s just a Jaskier thing and he’s almost afraid of how many Jaskier things he’s been keeping track of lately.

“You’re quite the flirt for someone so obtuse,” Jaskier informs him, raising an eyebrow.

Eskel shrugs. “Must be the company I’m keeping.”

“Hey!” Jaskier protests, but the accompanying giggle just makes it sound adorable. As soon as he thinks that, though, Jaskier smirks at him. “So you’re keeping me?”

Ah, not again. He truly has no idea how he’s meant to react to what he’s almost certain is flirting and unfortunately, that fact only seems to amuse Jaskier instead of discouraging him. Not that Eskel has any idea why anyone, especially this bard, would want to flirt with him in the first place.

“You’ve got your thinky-face on again,” Jaskier accuses him quietly, poking his chest. “Do you really have to think so hard on the concept of keeping me?”

Eskel finds himself shaking his head just a little too quickly. “No, no. I would be honoured to continue keeping your company, I just- I don’t know how to do this.”

Jaskier tilts his head to the right, raising an eyebrow. “With ‘this’ being what, exactly?”

That’s exactly what he wants to ask.

“This… this flirting thing,” he settles on.

“I wasn’t really considering it to be a thing so much as just the flirting,” Jaskier says, so quietly that it’s barely even a whisper.

Eskel can literally feel the way his eyes widen. He can also literally smell the way Jaskier begins to doubt himself so, without thinking, he reaches out and grabs the bard’s wrist, instantly regretting that choice when Jaskier flinches.

“I’m sorry,” he says, letting go immediately, “just, uh, just don’t leave yet. Please.”

With a slow exhale, Jaskier nods. “Yet?”

“You can leave whenever you wish,” Eskel clarifies, relieved when all Jaskier does is smile rather than take him up on that offer.

To his credit, Jaskier barely even moves as Eskel tries to compose himself. He rubs his fingertips together before just wrapping his arms around himself and shifts from one foot to the other but he doesn’t leave, giving Eskel as much time as he needs to choose an answer that doesn’t come across as something else that can be taken in the wrong way.

In the end, he just sighs. “I don’t- I mean, I haven’t been flirted at for longer than I can exactly remember. You’ll have to forgive me for not knowing the difference between the typical bardic reputation and the- and anything more… serious.”

“Bards can’t be serious?” Jaskier jokes, but it seems like an automatic response rather than his genuine response if the frown on his face is anything to go by.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eskel replies, very much wishing that he did.

Jaskier nods, reaching out for and taking both of Eskel’s hands. “I can assure you that despite also holding the uhm, the typical bardic reputation, I was being entirely serious about flirting with you.”

Eskel was a little afraid of that, to be honest.

“But if you don’t- that is, if it were to make you uncomfortable, I would be happy to uh, take that problem off your hands and stick to less serious flirting,” Jaskier adds, “or no flirting at all, even. That one may be considerably more difficult since flirting essentially becomes second nature in my trade but I can certainly attempt such an endeavour if it would ensure that we continue to travel together. And I’m aware you’ve already told me you’re happy with that arrangement but it only feels right to make sure in case-”

“You can stay sure,” Eskel cuts in before Jaskier rambles himself into a mess, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“But?” Jaskier asks, raising an eyebrow.

Amazed at how the bard somehow knows he needs to continue, Eskel smiles a little. “But I don’t know how to flirt and be serious about it.”

And he genuinely doesn’t. Obviously. He’s a witcher, he’s more than lucky if anyone at a brothel wants to keep their eyes on him, never mind maintain a conversation, and even then, that’s only if he goes to one in the first place. It’s not like he’s never been flirted at before, but it’s a little hard to take any of it seriously when it’s usually accompanied by undertones of fear or curiosity or mocking jest.

“It’s not like I’m an expert,” Jaskier scoffs and immediately, inexplicably, some of the tension in Eskel’s body melts away.

“What about all those romantic ballads of yours?” Eskel asks, frowning.

Jaskier shrugs, his thumbs drawing tiny soothing circles on Eskel’s hands. “Just because I sing about relationships doesn’t mean I’m in one, darling.”

Eskel is honestly a little baffled by how that can be possible. He can’t imagine being blessed with someone like Jaskier and then deciding not to try and keep him around - which reminds him to violently berate his brother for doing so - but frankly, he’s pretty glad nobody else has because if they had, he’d never have been given the chance himself.

“You look nice in my clothes,” Eskel blurts and, going by the redness that bridges over his nose all the way to his ears, Jaskier mercifully seems to understand what he’s trying to convey.

“I hope you’re aware you’re not getting them back now,” Jaskier teases.

Eskel shrugs. “A loss I’m willing to endure.”

Jaskier laughs brightly, throwing his head back with his hair arching messily in the air above him, his hands tightly clutching onto Eskel’s to stay balanced, and Eskel doesn’t need to be an expert on relationships to know that he’d happily lose any of his belongings if it meant being able to keep Jaskier in his life.

Well, maybe not his mirror.

-

...in retrospect, i may have made them a tad ooc by projecting too much but hey, it be like that sometimes :)

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[minalous]

Zeus: King of Gods (m)

pairing: jungkook x reader, namjoon x reader ft taehyung x reader

description/warnings: jungkook!god, since he is Zeus of course he will be a little bit dominant, namjoon!god, namjoon is Dionysus so please yes, namjoon likes creating and inspiring ecstasy, smut happening, oral (f receiving) || You find yourself in disbelief when a young man swears he is the God of Sky, Zeus. It doesn’t take long until you take him seriously.  “I’m here to save you, I’m here to ruin you.You called me, see? I’m so sweet”

genre: smut | angst | fluff

words: 6.2k

♡

Why on earth you decided to come here after such a long time? How the hell did you find yourself involved into a seminar you never wanted to take in the first place? The questions that keep bugging through the whole lot of your journey. Going back to Greece is not the problem, you are always into taking some vacation in the country which had you hooked into archaeology. It will only be for a week, seven days you can devote into relaxing and being away from work.

Travelling all the way to your destination takes more than twenty hours, time you could possibly spend home to relax and have some time for yourself, a great opportunity that your best friend took away from you. He had to stay back home since the nature of his work did not offer a lot of time off. Being your assistant does not give him enough time to get vacation, maybe that is your fault, only partially. 

"You are aware of the situation you got yourself into, right?" you whisper to yourself while struggling to get past your fellow passengers. The airplane has just landed, a few minutes earlier than expected and it works perfectly in your favour. You hurriedly grab your cabin bag, making the best of efforts to avoid the people surrounding you.

What you do not expect is the rain pouring down as if the sky itself opened in half to rain down waterfalls. It is beautiful to watch but right now you desperately need to hurry and go to your hotel. You are thankful you know the closest way to go there, the traffic is horrible due to the downpour.

It does not take you long to get to your hotel, the decision you made not to take a taxi was wise, the traffic is getting worse and worse by the minute. The lobby of the hotel is enormous, the heat of the air conditioning sends waves of pleasurable warmth all over your body. The rain seems to have gotten your clothes so wet that only now you can tell how much it has affected you.

"Hello. I have booked one of your suites" you say while you try to reach out for your phone inside your purse

"Hello, Miss. Under what surname have you done the booking?" 

"It should be under the surname Kim. My assistant made it for me. It should be under Kim Taehyung"

"Yes, Miss. You have booked the Crimson suite for a month."

The man's words snap you out of your thoughts, staring blankly into his direction as you try to remind yourself how many days you have decided to stay here.

"I am sorry. I think there has been a mistake. It should be for a week."

"Let me check again then, Miss."

You now keep searching for your phone furiously, there is no mistake made apart from the one Kim Taehyung that has lied to you and has arranged an extended holiday for you without your permission. You make a quick phone call while waving to the man in the reception that you are on the phone.

"Hello, hello" you hear his voice "how was your trip, baby?"

"Don't baby me, Tae. Why the hell did you book the suite for a month?"

"First of all, you are welcome?" he fake laughs at you "and secondly, please do take some vacation. You are fucked from work. Two years in the row with no holidays. Just relax. The company will be fine without you" he adds

"I doubt that" you tell him "but I trust you."

"Now say you are sorry and thank me, because we have been through hell these last couple of months." he says in a worried tone "especially you and I after all those incidents"

"I am sorry, Tae. I should not have dragged you into this"

"There will always be incidents, baby. I like going on trips with you, but this one take in on your own. Spend some time with yourself, think about your next steps. Maybe I will come meet you there. You like the Ancient Greek Gods, right?"

"Yes" you say in a lower voice "Thank you for remembering that."

"Anything for you, baby." you can tell he is smiling "Call me when you are done with your check in, yeah?"

"Yes, Tae. Thank you again for everything. I don't know what I would do without you." you are truly blessed to have him in your life

"No worries, baby. I love you"

"I love you too, Tae"

"Bye. Have fun" he says cheerfully

"Bye"

Lucky, that is what you are to have Tae in your life. He organised this trip and vacation for you, for your well being. He truly is an angel. You have known Taehyung your whole life. Since you can remember yourself, he was there, has always been there. To protect you, to guide you, to fight for you. 

"Miss, I have checked the booking twice and it says it is for a month. It has already been paid." 

"It is okay. I was on the phone with my assistant and we clarified the dates. Thank you for checking though" you smile at him

"Here is your key, miss" he hands you the key "your personal assistant will help you get to your suite"

"My what?" you say in confusion

"The VIP guests have a 24hr private assistance. It is the same as having a butler, Miss. Your assistant has provided this service for you."

For the love of god, why is he such a baby?

"Thank you for letting me know. Have a goodnight"

"Goodnight, Miss"

Your personal assistant as the receptionist said, helped you get to your suite. Apparently it is not a service provided only for the hotel premises. He is assigned to accompany you through the whole of your accommodation. The more you look at him, the more he looks like a bodyguard rather than a personal assistant. You cannot deny he looks more like a model though. He is tall, well built, tanned skin, beautiful blonde hair. He looks like an old forgotten god.

"Here is your suite, Miss. Please call me if you need anything. I will be outside. Have a good night." he says while he is about to close the door

"Thank you for youryou help. Before you leave, what is your name?"

"Namjoon, Miss" he replies and bows before closing the door for you

The next few days get by smoothly, day and night you do those things you missed the most; shopping, reading, cooking your favourite meal. Namjoon accompanies you everywhere you are to go. He mostly never talks, only if necessary. It is quite enjoyable to have someone by your side after such a long time of being alone when doing every day chores. Much more enjoyable when this somebody who offers you his company is so beautiful.

You do not want to make him uncomfortable but you stare at him from time to time, your eyes keep tracing his movements; he opens every door for you, he brings you coffee every morning and he weirdly enough guessed the coffee you like right, he silently does whatever you need and want without being asked to do so. He never exceeds limits and boundaries. He is a gentleman. 

The last place you find yourself in is one of the finest wine shops in the city. You are not the best to choose when it comes to wine. Over the years you had a lot of bad experiencesexperience with wine, especially after bad days, drinking your sorrows away. Namjoon approaches you carefully, a smile on his lips as he questions you.

"I am sorry to interfere, Miss, but what kind of wine would you like to consume with your food?"

"I always preferred red wine to any other wine" you lower your voice and lean towards him, almost whispering "you may not know, but in ancient Greece they loved red wine" 

"Is that so?" Namjoon asks in curiosity, a faint smirk plastered on his lips

It feels so fun to have him here with you, able to share the knowledge you hold for ancient history and mythology.

"They had Dionysus. He is mostly known as the God of wine but I always loved him for his contribution in the arts and literature. He was so loved and he was so important for a lot of people back in the days. Real or not, he did his part." you tell him, two bottles of red wine in your hands.

"Thank you.." he says in awe before walking to the till "For letting me know. But I believe you should buy these bottles of red wine. Something stronger will help you relax"

Namjoon carries the bags with the bottles back to the car, your mind already trying to figure out what you are going to cook back home. There is basically nothing left except for fruit you have bought a couple of days ago and some steak you would end up throwing away. You are not bored, just too tired to cook.

"Namjoon?" 

"Yes, Miss?" he replies softly

"Would you..? Never mind" it's too childish to ask him to cook for you

"Is there something wrong, Miss?" Namjoon drives the both of you back home, almost reaching back to your destination

"No, nothing wrong. I wondered if you could possibly cook for me?" you end your request with a question mark floating in your tone

You can hear Namjoon chuckling at the front driver's seat and it would hurt your pride if you did not know he is not the type of person to mock you.

"I would love to" he pauses for a minute "I mean I am happy to cook for you, Miss"

As you show him where the things you have bought are, Namjoon takes off his suit jacket which has you baffled. Where was he hiding all these muscles? You try to shake off the feeling of arousal by opening one of the bottles you just bought. With your hands pouring a glass of wine, you reach out to give a glass of wine to Namjoon but you are not ready for what you are about to see; Namjoon is slowly rolling up his sleeves, veiny arms now exposed to all of their glory.

"Wow" comes out as a whisper from your lips

"Thank you, Miss. How would you like to have your steak?"

Is he thanking you for your comment or for the wine? You clearly are clueless

"Medium to medium well would be fine"

"It will not take long." he reassures

You sit at the other side of the table, taking in the beautiful view he provides while he is so concentrated on cooking your meal. The glass of wine you hold in your grasp is already empty, not blaming yourself for finishing it so quickly. It helps you drown the improper thoughts you have for Namjoon.

It seems to you that your body is not listening to you, insatiable the way he moves around you, how he touches things, the depth of his voice as he asks you the simplest of things. Is he real? You have never felt so attracted to anyone before, eyes stay stimulated on his figure, the more you stay focused on him, the more you want to get lost into him.

Is it the wine talking, is it him that makes you lose yourself? 

"You should stop drinking if it makes you so dizzy" 

Namjoon is sitting right next to you, holding his distance as expected from a gentleman like himself, showing you the empty bottle in his hand.

"When did you manage to finish it?" his voice is smooth like silk

"I don't know. I don't remember" these are the very last words you remember falling from your lips

Black velvet, green, red; colours that are decorating the room you found yourself in. The touch of velvet under your skin has you shiver from pleasure, the feeling travels down your heat and it makes you moan involuntary. Everything is set to maximum; the noises, the voices, the music, the smells, all of your senses are heightened and it feels ecstatic.

Your clothing is different from what you were wearing beforewearing on before, a dark green silk dress covers only the parts in need to be unseen, your exposed skin shuddering under the chilly air. You move around the room to find the door which would let you further explore and you know there is no escape. That is all you can feel and remember every time you see the same dream - more of a realistic nightmare rather than a dream. The same mansion that would offer its cold, empty halls, full of dust and loneliness.

Extravagant staircases with a design seemingly invaluable as if it held too much history in it, stairs crying out full of agony to you, calling out your name. You would always stare around you, lost and alone you wanted to reach out to anyone. But there is nothing to be seen, as far as your eyes can see there is only one light of life that is staring back at you with the hope you will reach out to it.

"There is more of me waiting for you in here" you can hear a soft, smoky voice trying to lure you into the depths of the mansion.

With eyes fixed on the light trying to guide you, you have no doubt that this whole scene unravelling in front of your very eyes has to be nothing more than a dream which feels so real, so real that it may be true. Your feet drag you further into this mansion, the mansion responsible for all those sleepless nights but the further you get into the mansion, the more fearless you get. Why is it so? Why do you have no fear for what it is to come?

The so familiar sweet, intoxicating scent hits your nostrils and you know you are about to see the same scene you have seen so many other times. Once you notice the beautiful women in front of you, the man who haunts you every time is right there, standing proudly surrounded by all those women. Women so beautiful that would put models into shame, music echoing all around you, grapes and other kinds of fruit surrounding the small of tables next to them which is there to feed their hunger, wine in their hands to quench their thirst.

"I knew you long time ago" the man's voice comes out in a whisper but it reaches you, making the hair on the back of your neck rise.

"I have been waiting for you.." and the man who is standing there is no other than the man who stands beside you every single day

"Namjoon.." it seems so unreal to see him but there he is, ready to haunt your mind and it makes you want to believe it is Namjoon, maybe you crave for him.. 

His voice has this power to make you surrender, not that it would take a lot to have you drop your defence and listen to what he has to say. Your attempt to focus on him is nothing more than a failure as he walks towards you, the room getting bigger and bigger as he comes for you. Had you known his touch would cause you to lose your senses, you would have never let him touch you. This kind of sensation is something you have never experienced before, the smallest touch his skin offers would make fire spread everywhere on your body and once his eyes meet yours, oh those eyes, you know, you know he is up to no good.

"It's not your body I want, it's your mind" he whispers to you, hands searching for your waist

"Just listen now.."he continues "listen to the sweet melody of my music and follow it." The man now offers you a drink that you happily accept, the sweetness of the drink hitting your lips and from the taste of it it probably is wine and honey. 

It is an instant feeling like a warm hug, the sweetness of the wine running into your veins and the rising of a new temptation can be seen into the both of you: lust for life. Only a few inches are separating you from kissing the man in front of you, only a second away from giving into your instincts. You know from his movements as you look deep into his eyes, you know from the way he is leaning into you: he really craves to kiss you. With lips instinctively opening to let him claim the kiss he asks so desperately to have, you let him wrap his hands around your waist and hold you closer to his larger frame. He is about to kiss you, lips and eyes closing to you.

"You are not about to seal your fate, Son."

You can feel the man getting tense under his, what he claims to be, father's words. He holds you closer, hands wrapped around you like wings that are meant to protect you. 

"She is not meant to be here to see you, this is a world I have created for her and I. She is to be here to meet me every night." The voice you can hear from this man is a voice you have been hearing since the beginning of your weird dreams. It has to be the beautiful man you have been dreaming of, the man who lives inside this mansion.

"She is not to be exposed to the cruelty you and your brothers are to unleash. This is a war you brought upon yourself, Father" 

"You are mistaken if you believe that I am to bring her into a war if I weren't sure I can keep her safe"

"But father, isn't it better if she loses her true self once and for all?"

"She is far too precious to have her true self die. She can get reborn to claim what she is rightfully owed" he says and you can feel his voice getting closer to where you stand "she is twice as important as you and I are, Dionysus."

"How come you believe she has the power to destroy them?"

"Because the Fates have shown me.. I have seen what she is capable of. And she can bring the end of days. Their end"

The ancient words echo around the stones of the temple, seeping into the foundation, just like the way the syllables of his voice bleed into yours. The sound of silence echoes louder once his presence fills up the temple, the power flowing from within his body is equal to no power known to you.

"Wake up, wake up and come find me" the voice of an angel pulling you out from your dream and urging you to wake up.

You find yourself safe and sound back in your apartment, the dream you had seemed so unreal right now when you have time to rerun all of the events that took place inside your dreamland. How could you have possibly faced two Greek gods without being harmed from their aura? Being you, you knew how dangerous it is to face beings of that nature; ancient, old, powerful, creatures that withheld powers able to destroy the earth.

There is the need to figure out what the dream is hiding behind the words of you being a goddess, only if it was true, only if the words spoken were real. To the core of your being you secretly hoped it was real. Who was the one who showed Zeus you were powerful? Because there can be none other than Zeus the one Dionysus was talking to, the King of Gods. If he were not to be the most powerful what were you to overpower him?

In the heat of the moment you become angry at your oblivious ignorance, guilty of believing into a dream which is nothing more than drunkenness mixed with the twisted reality you have created. You despise the person you have become with hours and hours spent to find things you cannot see, heartless to people in need of you. Only purpose in your life is to discover the hidden Olympian Gods, a purpose leading you to madness. 

The library that is conveniently placed within the hotel is the quickest way to have access to some of the books you want to have a look at, Zeus's family tree is the first of things you need to search. There were so many powerful Gods and Goddesses, or probably still exist if your suspicions are to become real. You dress up quickly, shoes in hands and ready to go to the library.

"Where are you going, Miss?" Namjoon's voice sends you chills and your whole body freezes on the spot as if somebody caught you doing something illegal. The dream you had no long ago is the reminder of a faint chance of Namjoon being a God. One of the Gods you loved and treasured the most.

"I want to go to the library to look something up. Can you please go grab us some coffee?" you say in the sweetest voice. You do not want to alert him, not until you are sure of his intentions.

"Of course" As Namjoon heads out for the coffee, you find the chance to have some time ahead in finding what you were looking for. You do not know exactly what to look for but the genealogy tree would be a good start. 

Hundreds of books are surrounding you but now you are no longer blind to the truth, your hand aiming towards the one and only book in here that can help you.

"I hope you are the one book that can help me" you mutter to yourself with the book in your hands. With complete attention in the book you are reading, you lean on the bookcase, devoted to finding a clue to help you out.

"Maybe it is not a book you are looking for but a being" the sweet, soft voice you just heard is familiar, a voice you are sure you have heard before.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you" you say and continue reading your book. 

"Through ancient times, gods and goddesses walked on this earth, creatures older than the time. They held powers greater than the human mind could think of, the possession of anything mystical the universe could be in possess of.

The long forgotten story of the woman who prayed to Nyx to spare her child before getting devoured from her husband, Erebus, the personification of the deep darkness and shadows. The child was told to be the child of Chaos, the creator of all, and that Gaia and Tartarus were not the only ones. He had an affair that brought her into the world, a lover who he loved more than Nyx but he could never allow a bastard to have a claim to his throne the same way Zeus did to his father."

Mind deep into thoughts, the book you are reading repeating words you could not understand. The man next to you took it away from your hands, not before he could touch your fingers, offering to translate for you.

"I'm here to save you, I'm here to ruin you. You called me, see? I'm so sweet" these are the words you could not translate

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you" he continues "but these are not words in need of translation. This is me letting you know how long it took me to find you, to have you so close"

"Let me introduce myself, luv" the man takes your hand in his, softly bringing it on his lips to kiss it "I am Zeus. You may already know me" 

Yes, you already know him. And you feel you are his. The connection you feel between the two of you is undeniably strong, indestructible, a bond that has been created through years and years of getting to know you, a relationship he was aware he needed to create.

And there you are after unwillingly calling for him; the being who you are to face is one of those beautiful beings you got to know in your dreams, dreams you never knew until recently were real, now being here with him, with no fear or regrets. If you are to die in his hands, let it be. If you are to be held captive in his castle of mysteries, let it be. As long as he has you in the grasp of his hands, holding you tight in his arms, he could be the drug running in your veins, he could be the one to ruin you. He is what you want, you are what he needs.

His whole world is nothing you have seen before and inside your mind you are fighting through the pain to be what he craves for. Too much power dripping down from his fingertips but it is you who have the nectar he is quenching for; you are the purest creature he has laid his eyes on after thousands of years. 

Zeus is the name he is known for the last thousands of years but the name he goes with now is Jungkook. He asks you to call him that as he guides you back inside the mansion you have been dreaming of. Relief rushes through you as you come to realise you will no longer be in a constant battle with yourself, there will be no fear of you losing your mind. 

Jungkook guides you further than you have ever been inside this mansion of his, the lingering feeling of his hands on your body comes back to haunt you when he places a long, slow kiss on your neck. He knows how your body reacts to every of his touches, he commands it to submit under his will and it happily obliges. You cannot tell how long it has been since he has been pleasing you with his tongue and fingers but there is one thing you can tell; he craves to love you, it's all he has.

"Stay there, with your legs open for me. I am not nearly done with you yet."

He sweeps your juices with the back of his hands after licking the remains with his tongue. He is looking like a thirsty man on a hot day under the sun, searching for water. 

"No one can stop us now. You are my nectar. I am your lover"

You ignore the strange chalice he has offered you, sipping down the deep red liquor inside it.

"Sky and earth is ours. Chaos and night is ours. The day is ours. And now you are mine.. Mine." and with a knee bend down before you, your body laying down beautifully on the daybed, he leaves open mouthed kisses along your legs, spread already as he has asked you.

"And I am yours. Only yours" 

The morning sun creeps through the large windows to drag you out of your dreams, Jungkook laying beside you, eyes searching for your.

"Good morning.." he tells you softly "You have been sleeping for a long time"

"Good morning" you say before making your way to the edge of the bed

"I know you still have so many questions" he tries to say but you interrupt him

"I need you to show me" you say in a broken voice "I need you to show me what happened to me. When you gave me the drink last night, I remembered some things, I had broken memories of my past"

"So it worked" Jungkook says more to himself than you

"Please show" you plead

"I'll show you" Jungkook moves his body closer to yours, hands coming to gently touch your temples, soon your head is flooded with images.

The most beautiful woman appears in front of your very eyes like a dream; long black hair, black eyes, porcelain skin. She was as beautiful as the night. "Nyx" you can hear from a man behind her "You have to hide her. She is in danger" You cannot see the man but you can still see the beautiful woman. "Mom" slips from your lips. Mom? This is your mom.. The mother you have been searching your whole life. Nyx is your mother.. "Erebus is near. He can sense her. Please hurry" "Take her, Chaos. Please take her and protect her." "You know that Erebus is no match for you. Why are you so afraid?" "I do not wish him to know of my creation, of my child." Chaos is staring back at her with a look of understatement on his face. "He never knew you created more of you, did he?" You can see your mother tearing up, your father must have never known, must have never accepted your mother has created you. By the look of it you must be much more powerful than the liking of your father. "She is my beautiful light, Father. She is the one to bring the sun in my darkest nights, she is the one to create the air we, Gods, breathe. You created the universe and being your daughter, I wished to create two beautiful children for Erebus and I, but she has all of me in her little heart. She is perfect. But Erebus is scared of her and her powers. Please help me lie about her, help me save my child" 

Chaos is holding your small hands inside his, your eyes fixed on your mother that is trying her best not to cry and you may not have understood why back then, but now you do. She is about to lose her whole world, the only child she was able to have and hold in her hands. She is the most powerful being after Chaos but her only thought is to protect you from the harm your father may bring upon you. "I will always love you" your mother says and in the blink of an eye you find yourself in a different world.

"You are safe here" Chaos tells you "we are thousands of years apart with your father. You are so small and innocent." Chaos leaves a small kiss on your forehead before continuing "This is the right place for you to live and grow up. When he finds you, take the right decision. The world is upon your hands. Your children's desire will be to destroy the world you will come to know as home. Would you wish to save it, you will get reborn as the Goddess your mother wished you to be. Would you find the world you live on to be corrupted, let your children destroy it."

Every single one of the rest of your memories are from your current past. The rest of your story is to be told from Zeus, the son of Cronus and Rhea. 

"You now know why you are here, why we cannot have you ignore your true nature." Jungkook seems to need the world saved from his parents

"You are scared" you say softly "you are scared I won't help you"

"There is one part of the story that you are yet to know. And it is not that I am scared of your decision, I am worried about the power you hold in the grasp of your hands" Jungkook has you face him, with a soft kiss on your lips he feels it coming, your true nature lurking in the darkest corners of your mind 

"You inherited part of your mother's powers. You have the powers of three Gods. This is the reason Nyx had you hidden for thousands of years. No God was to hold so much power, luv. You are so unique" Jungkook says as he kisses you deeply "No Goddess can compete to your beauty" he breathes between the kiss, fingers finding their way to meet your heat "no Goddess can destroy and save worlds like you" his fingers enter with ease your wet core and your pretty moans fill the room "So beautiful you are.."

"I cannot afford to lose you, I cannot walk away from you now that I have found you. I need you to stay with me and save this world. I love my humans and the world" Jungkook never stops until you come undone on his fingers, licking the remaining of your wetness.

"I am here to worship you" Jungkook whispers as you fall asleep in his arms

Day after day you notice your powers overwhelming you, it has been so long since Jungkook has witnessed pure power, power in its rawest form. When Jungkook got to see you control the night sky, summoning the stars to show themselves to you, the small glimpse of his smile filled you with pride.

"Love the stars, love the moon" Jungkook tells you "I love you" 

He carefully places a kiss on your forehead, a kiss full of love. 

"We are equals now" you tell him, the view his balcony offers is breathtaking and to have him hug you is more than enough to make you happy

"I think I can't get enough from your touch" he says "you say a lot of things that drive me insane" 

"I can say a lot more, a lot more when you are with me" you say 

"Immortality becomes you, luv" Jungkook teases you

"I think I am starting to like it. Immortality may not be a bad thing after all"

Jungkook is taken aback by your words, he seems to not agree with your newly found liking in immortality, in the new life you are given.

"Immortality" Jungkook starts" Immortality comes with insatiable need, exquisite pain. Immortality holds its own privileges and downsides. Knowing about my world may get you hurt and I cannot allow that. You were able to awaken your powers, your immortality.. but no power comes without burdens."

"A leap of faith, that is all we need" you say "we need to be strong until we find where my full potential can take me. You mentioned that three different gods are within me, powers unknown to any of us"

"You shouldn't have to carry all that burden alone" Jungkook holds you tighter within his arms "The fate of the world should not be your responsibility"

"But the people living in it are my responsibility, they are our creation. We should save them from your parents. From all the Titans that wish to destroy the world"

"The world is an awful place. Best to meet it on its own terms. People are not good anymore, nor pure" he says but he does not mean it, not wholeheartedly 

"No the world isn't awful" you tell him softly "People are not awful. They want to be good. Something makes them bad, something breaks them down, makes them snap. We all must stand alone against our demons. And humans are not determined to face their demons anymore yet. We have to help them" 

"What if one day their demons become mine to fight? In what end am I to defeat the Titans, those Gods who want to bring an end to all humanity?"

"You are not alone anymore. You have me now.." you reassure him

"I am older than you, even if you came before me, I want to guide you to the old ways, to the old days when everything was beautiful and in harmony" Jungkook smiles at you

"And yet you remain so obstinate to the desire to kill your parents" you chuckle

"I do, my luv. And until the day Tartarus opens its gates for my parents, we are safe up here."

"And when is that to happen?" you ask him softly

"In the next full moon" Jungkook almost whispers

Eyes on the night sky, eyeing the half moon which is so bright, so full of life and promising to the stars around it. You raise your hand as if trying to reach out to the night sky, twisting your fingers while your mind bends the will of the moon to arise, because the moon is yours, the night is yours, the air is yours, the sun is yours. The moon ceases to exist from the night sky and it finds its way to your hand, beautiful as ever to adorn the skin of your wrist.

"That can save us some time I think" you chuckle again

Jungkook looks at you in disbelief as he has never seen anyone hold so much power.

"Yes that will save us all the time in the world, but I am sure that nobody stands a chance against you, luv."

"I would kill for you, Jungkook. Even if it meant to kill all of the Gods."

"And I will live for you" he says with a kiss "Always and forever"

Jungkook is the one God you never thought you would believe in and the one God you came to love; Zeus, the King of Gods. And there are two more Gods you crave to see; your mother, Nyx and your father, Erebus. But the latest will not have the pleasure to feel your love; he will be more than welcome though to feel your wrath.