#where the sun has completely disappeared and the sky is a deep blue but not quite black yet

[lycorid]

I spent the entire day asleep.

I really wish I could just live with my natural sleep cycle (crepuscular plus nocturnal) since it’s the only way I actually feel well rested. I’ve tried for two damn decades to have a normal sleep cycle: I went to bed and woke up at the exact same times every day; I didn’t use technology for several hours before sleep; I didn’t exercise right before bed but I’d exercise during the day; I’d avoid napping throughout the day; I’ve taken medications; more and more and nothing has worked for me. No matter what I will be exhausted during the day and then fully awake during the late evening.

It’s like a switch gets flipped.

But if I sleep during the day then I’m lazy; it doesn’t matter if I spent all night working my ass off or being productive in some way. It’s frustrating.

[samstree]

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Jaskier asks in wonder, the golden sunset casting long shadows behind them.

They sit side by side on the beach, toes buried in the sand. There is no one else on the coast for miles, only the two of them. They could be the only two people in the world.

It’d be enough, Geralt realizes.

He looks back at Jaskier, turning away from the sunset. Jaskier wears happiness well, his cheeks round with a smile, eyes flowing with warmth. It’s a state rarely shown around anyone else. A bard performs to an audience, but never to Geralt, never when it’s just the two of them.

“Yeah,” Geralt whispers, “it is.”

Jaskier meets his gaze, the crinkling around his eyes deepening. He looks at Geralt like this, like he’s seeing his favorite person in the world, the one that makes it all better.

“Don’t be cheeky, witcher,” Jaskier says, putting his chin on Geralt’s shoulder. “You are supposed to be watching the sunset.”

“Rather watch something else.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you know?” Jaskier’s grin stretches. He pokes Geralt’s cheek so he turns his attention back to the sight in front of them. “But this is fleeting.”

“Hmm.”

The sun dips into the horizon, where the crashing waves blend into the sky, the clouds painted with an upturned palette.

“Close your eyes,” Jaskier says softly, “just for a moment. Go on.”

And Geralt does. He lets the sun kiss his eyelids.

Jaskier sighs happily, leaning against Geralt’s shoulder. “The sun will set today. Tomorrow it shall rise again, but never the same. This moment isn’t meant to last, and for the rest of our lives, we can only live with the knowledge that this sunset has been lost.” He pauses, breathing in, and out. “Keep your eyes closed for me, dear, because right now, it’s like you are already living it. You’ve already lost this sunset. It only exists in your memories now, and yet…”

“And yet?”

Geralt nearly melts into Jaskier’s voice.

“And yet,” Jaskier continues. “Open your eyes.”

Geralt opens his eyes, and the incandescent light spills into his vision, nearly blinding him. His breath catches at the beauty of the same sunset.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Jaskier agrees. “Just like that, you’ve briefly experienced the joy of finding something that is long lost.”

They sit in silence until the sun completely disappears, the golden orange fading into a blue canvas, illuminated by the stars.

There are tears in Geralt’s eyes. He blinks them away before turning towards Jaskier again. The stars are in his eyes too.

“It’s lost anyway,” Geralt says, chest heavy with a grief he cannot name.

“Not the same.” Jaskier shakes his head. “You found it once. It will always be with you, right here.”

When Jaskier presses a hand on Geralt’s chest, his touch is warm, like the sunset lingering in Geralt’s heart.

☆

Brokilon forest is quiet when Geralt wakes up from the pain, his back covered in cold sweat.

The aches flare up at night, deep in his bones, when the air is cold and the dew is heavy. There are wounds magic cannot heal, like Yen said. He groans against the discomfort, breaths coming out erratic.

“Hey, Geralt. It’s alright.” Jaskier is next to him in an instant. “You are alright.”

Cool fingers brush away the hair on his forehead soothingly. Jaskier sits beside the bed with soft words and gentle touches, his presence steady and calming as Geralt slowly breathes through the throbbing pain.

“Jask—” he reaches out, catching Jaskier’s hand in his. “I’m fine.”

“I know. I know. All healed, as you claim.” Worry still strains Jaskier’s voice. “I’m not quite convinced. Are you sure we shouldn’t stay for a few days more? Just a bit longer.”

Geralt pulls himself up on the bed with Jaskier’s help, leaning against the bark and the leaves. He winces at the way his knee pops.

“We need to leave tomorrow,” Geralt says, his brow still tight.

Jaskier looks away, but Geralt can make out the hesitation in his movement, in the way he seems to want to say something, but thinks better of it.

“Of course,” he says, in the end.

Geralt stays there, waiting for the pain to fade. It doesn’t for a long time.

“Jask,” he asks tiredly, tugging Jaskier’s hand, “will you come here?”

Jaskier doesn’t move. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Just… let me look at you.”

Geralt moves to the side, leaving room for Jaskier to sit side by side with him. He opens his arms when Jaskier carefully climbs into bed, curling into his side. Something clicks into place when Jaskier fits into his body like this. Too many things are going wrong, but this…

This is right.

“Hey,” Jaskier says softly. He guides Geralt to look at him with a hand on his cheek, eyes bright like the fireflies in the forest. “I’m here.”

Geralt closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Jaskier’s. There’s too much lost in too little time. He doesn’t dare to think about losing Jaskier too, the last person by his side. He shudders to imagine being here alone, injured and dying, with no gentle hands holding him.

But Jaskier is here, with his lute and his songs, his unconditional loyalty. Jaskier found him.

Geralt opens his eyes with an exhale.

“You are here,” he says. “You found me.”

In the moonlight, under the canopy of the forest, Jaskier lets Geralt rest on his shoulder, a smile under his breath.

“I always will,” he whispers the promise. “I won’t lose you, Geralt, not too often, not for long. You see, I found you once, all those years ago in that terrible tavern. I’ve kept you with me since, right here.”

He takes Geralt’s hand and presses it over his fast-beating heart. A human’s heart, fragile and breakable, but unbelievably strong at the same time.

Geralt is tired. All he feels is the rhythm of Jaskier’s heart under his fingertips.

He sleeps with Jaskier next to him, the last piece of his home, murmuring soft things to ward off the faint echoing of his injuries.

They sleep in the quiet forest, when their family is out there somewhere.

Tomorrow, the sun will rise, but never the same. Because tomorrow, Geralt will find the rest of their family too.

[imtrashraccoon]

He's here, he's here, he's here!!! I love this pretentious guy so much! This chapter is certainly a different one though...

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Nightmare - Sunset

Word Count: 2,296

You opened your eyes to find yourself laying in a field underneath a cloudless sky. Sitting up, you looked around and discovered the field seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see.

The grass was a blueish colour and rather soft to the touch but it was completely unlike anything you'd seen before. Some of the plants had small white flowers that kind of reminded you of cotton, otherwise it was just straight grass all around. Every now and then a warm gust of breeze would cause the grass to move in a wave like pattern and tease your own hair.

The sky was a shade of brilliant gold and you soon spotted the sun, that was just about to dip below the horizon. It felt comforting and you closed your eyes for a moment to just bask in the last of its warm rays.

A few birds darted across the sky overhead and your eyes followed them until they disappeared over the horizon. They looked like red wing blackbirds and you noticed there seemed to be both males and females flying together. Somewhere off in the distance, you heard an unknown animal make a yipping sound like they were play fighting with a sibling.

You stood up and looked around a bit more. It appeared that the terrain wasn't completely flat and while the grass seemed to only be about a foot tall, you could see places where it appeared to be taller. Most of the white flowers seemed to be taller than the blades of grass as well.

It was very peaceful here...wherever here was...

You couldn't help but feel a bit unnerved at how quiet it was. Were you even on Earth anymore? You didn't know of anywhere that looked like this but you hadn't been everywhere in the world yet.

"Hello human."

You felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end from the sound of the deep, almost velvety voice. They sounded calm at the moment and yet there was a layer of danger in their tone.

You slowly turned around to face the mysterious voice.

It was another skeleton but he didn't look at all like the others you'd met. While the boys were pretty similar to human skeletons, this guy's bones appeared to be either completely black or covered in a substance similar to what often seeped from Killer's eye sockets. He only appeared to have one cyan eyelight in his left socket while his right one was obscured by that inky substance. You didn't know if he was blind in that socket or not, and you weren't about to ask either. The most striking thing about him though, was the four black tentacles that protruded from his back.

He was dressed differently from your friends as well. Instead of a blue hoodie and shorts, he wore a rather fancy looking dark overcoat, a gold circlet with a black moon adorned his skull, and he had gold rings on his phalanges, which ended in claws.

He seemed to radiate a sort of intimidating aura and just by looking at him, you felt a wave of dread pass through you. His good eye socket was narrowed and he had a bit of a tight smile across his face. Unfortunately, you couldn't tell if he was upset or not right now.

You clenched your fists at your sides and took a deep breath to steady your nerves. At least you weren't at knife point or being pinned down, although you couldn't be sure how long that would last.

"Am I wrong to assume that you're Nightmare?" you asked.

His grin grew wider into more of a smirk. "Indeed. I see my reputation has proceeded me."

Some more blackbirds flew overhead and he glanced up at them in a thoughtful way. He folded his arms behind his back and if you didn't already know he was a god, you definitely knew now from the way he was holding himself. His tentacles slowly undulated in a restless sort of way and you found yourself wondering if he was doing that on purpose or if the tentacles had a mind of their own.

"I'll get straight to the point," he said.

You nodded and fiddled with your fingernails nervously. "I'd appreciate it... At this point, I've nearly been decapitated, pinned against walls, and threatened at knife point. So unless you're going to do something else, I've seen it all."

"So I've heard..."

You didn't like how casual he was being about this situation. The others had all threatened your life on multiple occasions and yet here he was acting all casual like you were an acquaintance. It made you feel like a pit had formed in your gut.

Nightmare took a few slow steps towards you and tilted his skull in a thoughtful way. Interestingly, he appeared to be between Dust and Killer in matters of height, yet he was still a couple inches taller than you were. His tentacles also added a few extra inches to his height but you didn't count them.

"I've known about you from the very beginning, long before you ever knew about any of my other henchmen."

You swallowed thickly but continued to stand your ground. "So then why didn't you do anything?" you asked in a small voice.

"Because, I wanted to see how things would play out. Now that all three of my boys have come to a consensus about you, I had to come meet you in person..."

He chuckled and motioned to the surrounding field before adding, "Well, not exactly in person. This is actually a dream I specifically crafted for you."

"Huh." You looked around at the grass before looking back at the sunset again. "That explains why the sun hasn't moved a bit since I woke up at least."

Turning back to Nightmare, you smiled slightly. "This is a really pretty place though. You do good work."

He seemed rather pleased by your compliment if the way he slightly puffed out his chest a bit more was any indication. He cleared his non-existent throat and his expression returned to a more neutral one moments later.

"I didn't just bring you here to show off," he said in a more serious voice. "There is something important that you need to know..."

"I didn't think so..." You sighed and crossed your arms. "So lay it on me. What's the real issue?"

He took a few steps closer until your bodies were practically touching and he could leer over you in an admittedly intimidating way. He stood there in silence for several long seconds studying you.

"You were never meant to meet any of them. You are what some would call a side character in another's story. You exist to be a cog in the machine that drives your world forward and nothing more."

His single cyan pinprick seemed to stare into the very depths of your soul as he paused to let this revelation sink in. "Despite this, you have proven to be...exceptional, even among humans. I am frankly impressed that you managed to befriend my henchmen, despite everything they put you through."

"I think I've shaved several years off my life just dealing with Killer alone..." you muttered under your breath.

Nightmare chuckled quietly and gave you a knowing look. "There is one problem though," he continued. "Their constant coming and going the way they have been has caused extensive damage to the code that makes up this world. It has gotten to the point where it could collapse in on itself without warning."

"What?"

"Just that, not even I could do anything to fix things." He paused for a moment and studied you while you tried to process it all.

"You've gotta be kidding..." you started to say although you trailed off when he shook his skull.

"I have no reason to lie to you, human. If I didn't tell you now, you wouldn't have any idea until it's too late."

You sighed and glanced around helplessly. "Why are you telling me this?" you finally asked. "What do you get out of telling me something so awful?"

He chuckled softly, the sound of which sent chills down your spine. "I love it when people can tell I want something from them," he hummed. "I'm telling you because I would like to offer you a deal."

You crossed your arms. "There it is...what do you want from me?"

His permanent grin widened. "You have two options, human. Either you can stay in this world with everyone you've ever known until it inevitably collapses or...you can join me and break free from the limits of your own code."

You couldn't help but stare at him. The way he'd phrased it sounded so simple and yet you were immediately suspicious. You hadn't exactly heard any nice things about him, so why was he acting so...nice?

"Wow..." you finally managed to say. "So let me get this straight, you show up and tell me my world is doomed. Then, you conveniently tell me you know how to make everything better. Yeah, no, what's the catch?"

"Let's just say that there's something about you that I find interesting. I know the benefits of making fair deals and I always, always keep my word." He subtly rubbed his phalanges on his coat and glanced down at his claws.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. If he really was telling the truth, you had an idea of what might have grabbed his attention about you. He seemed like a brick wall though and you couldn't tell if he was lying or not. You couldn't even sense any emotions from him either, save for that intense aura.

"I don't trust you..." you murmured.

He tilted his skull and smiled at you. "It's your decision at the end of the day. So, I'll give you some time to think about it, however..." His tone turned icy and his smile widened considerably before he added in a lower voice, "I only have so much patience, human..."

Two of his tentacles began to slowly snake around your back as he spoke. You tried to pull away but his grip was firm and you couldn't budge. You shuddered and had to look away from him, the sight of which only seemed to make him pleased.

"I will continue to visit you in your dreams until you come to a decision. Although, I'm afraid with the state of your world's code, I won't be letting my henchmen keep making these trips to see you for their safety. You understand I'm sure..."

You hated how he was appealing to your sense of reason. You'd probably do the same in his shoes to protect your friends, granted, he was their boss and not their friend. At least he wasn't making you choose right now...

He released you and stepped away, folding his arms behind his back again. "I'm confident you'll make the correct decision," he said with a tone that sounded like he was just about finished here.

Your eyes widened and without really thinking, you reached out and grabbed his shoulder. "Wait! Don't go yet..."

You felt his body stiffen slightly and he glanced at your hand before his gaze flicked to you. He stayed quiet but there was an unamused look in his cyan eyelight. You'd better not say something stupid and risk making him upset right now...

"I can see that you care about your boys, in your own way at least, but how is this fair to them? Do they even know what you've just told me?" you asked.

He narrowed his eye socket but didn't pull away from you. "I elected to meet with you first, but I have every intention to tell them as soon as I take my leave. I am certain they won't like it any more than you do."

You were grasping at straws here but your mind was desperate for answers that may not even exist. He wanted you for your Intent, right? Apparently, you were different from other humans and he thought it was enough to offer a deal that would potentially save your life.

"What happens if I accept your deal?"

Nightmare chuckled and one of his tentacles curled around your wrist, so you couldn't let go of him now even if you wanted to. "Now that's a curious question, hm? It all depends on you though. No doubt you know what I do and what my henchmen do for me. What happens if you accept, depends on what you can bring to the table..."

That was a non-answer if you ever heard one. You opened your mouth to retort when he reached over and actually patted you on your head.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to actually empathize with me like you have the others. Though it is amusing to watch you try," he nearly purred in a tone that sounded a bit condescending. "It sort of comes with the mantle of being a god among mortals I'm afraid."

You narrowed your eyes at him and had to bite your tongue. The last thing you wanted to do right now was offend him. At least you were capable of restraining yourself compared to certain people.

He let go of you and flashed a smile that was anything but reassuring. "I will see you soon, human..."

The next thing you knew, you were in your own bed and no longer in that field. The gravity of what you'd learned was weighing down your mind but you were too tired to make an actual decision right now. There was something else on your mind though.

You were determined to befriend him.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go

Chapter 1

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love triangle.

You woke with a start, your hand coming to the thrumming sensation in your chest as you gasped and panted. How many nights had it been now since the feeling had woken you, pulling you from much needed sleep at all hours? You’d lost count.

You wished you could remember your dream, to make the link between the figure you kept seeing in your sleep and the pull in your chest that never faded; a silhouette in the dark, moving closer as you tried to reach out a hand to grasp the shadowy outline.

Sometimes you thought you saw the profile of a face, a strong jaw with a defined nose. Eyes that swam between such a dark hue of blue they seemed black and at other times the gentle colours of a calm ocean. The features always melted away when you woke, no matter how hard you tried to remember them, to scribble down what you could in the small red notebook you kept tucked inside your boot. The images were scattered and jumbled, so close to becoming a complete picture; one your subconscious seemed to tell you held the an answer you didn’t even know you were seeking.

It had started when you’d left the remains of San Diego with nothing but the clothes on your back and the supplies you’d managed to scavange in your backpack. At first you’d thought little of it until you noticed when you headed in a certain direction the feeling seemed to grow stronger.

It had been with shock that you realised it was more than just the grief of all you’d lost, the fear of the dead and the unknown stretched out before you. It was it. The Pull. That was when the dreams started.

Everyone knew about the Pull and you were glad there was no one to berate you for how slow you’d been to realise what it meant.

That your soulmate, whoever they may be, was close.

You’d wandered with nothing but the feeling in your chest to guide you, moving in an easterly direction as you rose with the sun each morning and slept when it had disappeared beyond the horizon at your back at night. There was one morning when you had woken to feel nothing, and it had left you clawing at your skin, painfully aware of the hollowness within you that came with the loss of the Pull.

You’d lain down and grieved again that day. You remembered the lessons you’d been given about soulmate’s, what it meant to be one of the few lucky enough to find their match… and what it meant to be one of the many who never would.

At the start of the rise of the dead you’d witnessed the survivors around you randomly crumple over with an agonising pain, searing so deeply it felt like their hearts were broke in two. This pain… it was how you knew your soulmate was dead.

So as you lay there with your eyes closed against the morning light, you tried to reach inside and find the cord that tied you to someone you’d never met, never known and never would, you waited for the pain.

But it never came.

Once the sun was at its highest point in the sky and you were just beginning to consider retracing your steps back toward the ruins of San Diego - since there was nothing for you here other than sunscorched grass and hopelessness - that it hit you like a punch to the chest. An invisable hand reached between your ribs and pulled. The feeling was strong enough that you felt physically lifted to your feet.

Ignoring the worn state of your boots that were on the verge of falling apart, your tired and aching mucles began to scream at you; but not in resistance of your movement, instead your body urged you on.

You moved as quickly as you could, stumbling over dry earth and crumbling rock. The Pull kept you going, driving you further east. You pulled the map from your bag, stopping even as your feet ached and screamed at you.

Go, you’re so close…

Your head began to swim as you tried to fix your eyes on the lines printed on the page in front of you. You’d marked off your route, making note of any landmarks you passed to keep track of your journey. But as another feeling overtook the one that had been propelling you onward you looked toward the sky and realised just how low the sun had fallen.

It was almost night and your mouth was dry as the paper in your hands. You panicked, realising you’d neither eaten or had anything to drink as you licked your chapped lips and tasted the salt of your sweat soaked skin.

The last remnants of your water disappeared all too quickly as your legs finally collapsed and you hit the ground hard.

That was when you heard it. The low rumble of an engine in the distance. A set of lights appeared and lit the ground around you. You were closer to a road than you’d realised as a truck rolled to a slow stop nearby.

The feeling in your chest tightened. You could barely breath as a door opened and boots hit the ground, sending up a swirl of dust and dirt around legs clad in military gear.

You tried to stand but your head swam even more, the very ground beneath you seemed to lurch upward as your eyes travelled over the oncoming man.

He was tall, the light of his truck illuminated a mess of slightly curled hair and cast shadows over his face. As he moved closer and you collapsed back on the ground, the dry grass scratching at the exposed skin on the nape of your neck, you felt the pull of the bond finally give out as if a spring pulled taught had finally been released. You felt it pass through your entire body, a feeling of relief like when you woke after a deep sleep, stretching out the sleepiness from your muscles as the blood pumped and flowed.

The man, who had been holding a rifle in front of his face as he glanced around into the darkness, gasped. He said something then, but your ears were muffled by the sound of rushing water.

Before the dizziness swallowed you up and you fell into utter darkness you felt the smile stretch across your face. You tried to speak but your dry throat could only groan.

You didn’t see the way the man lowered his gun and stepped closer, his eyes fixing on the rise and fall of your chest. You were breathing slightly too fast and the signs of exposure were obvious on your skin. He heard footsteps behind him and gestured for one of his men to go to you as he took a step back and observed the girl he’d been dreaming of for weeks.

“Troy, we need to get her back to the ranch if she’s got a chance in hell of waking up.”

Troy made a sound in his throat, an affirmation, as the other man lifted the girl with ease and moved her onto the backseat of Troy’s truck.

He could now observe her more closely in the light. She was thin, long limbs covered by filthy clothes. He wondered how long she had been wandering. Had she felt it too? The never-ending ache in his chest had left him searching the wilderness day after day under the guise of searching for supplies or defending the perimeter from the dead, or those who saught to take what they had.

Once his eyes had settled on her face and he’d known it was her it was like the need in his body, as strong as a need for water after a long day working in the sun, bled from him completely and he felt whole.

So why, as he stared at the unconsious woman from the front seat of his truck, did he feel so…

Disappointed.

[gumnut-logic]

Talk No.3 (Complete)

Alexander Sweetapple series | Talk No.1 | Talk No.2 | Talk No.3

Well, this one ended up much longer than expected at 3000 words.

Consider this a prelude to FishTank Week next week as it is FishTank by proxy :D It also answered one of the asks @idontknowreallywhy asked a while back. At the time I didn't know if Alex had a good sense of direction - apparently he does, in the dark, no less.

But anyway, lots of love and sap in this one. Get out the buckets for the fluff, you'll need them.

The usual warning for this series: This is a m/m fic, if that is not your thing, then this is not the fic for you. Oh, and I posted the very beginning last night because I'm an impatient twit, so the first few words may be familiar.

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

“Hey, Apples, you okay there?”

Alex sighed. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

To his surprise, Gordon placed a hand on his shoulder.

But Alex still didn’t turn around, eyes still occupied watching the dots of Thunderbirds One and Two disappearing into the pink of the retreating sunset.

“He will be okay.”

“I know.” He did know. He could possibly even calculate the percentage chance given enough data. Virgil was a very experienced emergency responder. He and his brother did this kind of thing every day.

And night, apparently.

They were standing on the balcony outside the comms room. A place where he had witnessed the family respond to a situation. Sharp, concise and efficient. Mr Tracy became Commander Tracy and orders flew around the room.

A brief kiss, an apologetic smile, and the man he loved disappeared into the wall.

Thunderbird One shook the building, and the moment she was clear, Alex ran out to see Thunderbird Two roar into the sky. It was bloody amazing.

And terrifying.

Gordon sighed beside him. “C’mon, Apples, I’ll help you stash dinner for later and then we can go for a walk.

Alex frowned at the resigned smile on Gordon’s face, but obediently turned to walk back in to clean up the remains of their dinner.

It turned out that Gordon was an expert at stashing food for later. He claimed it was due his squirrel ancestry, but Alex was bright enough to see that this was just what happened and happened a lot.

Honestly, Alex understood and agreed with all the reasons and logic in the equation. This is what Virgil did and he did it well. Somewhere out there someone was calling for help and International Rescue had to answer. That was how it was and he expected nothing less.

But that was the logical centre of his brain.

There was another part that ignored logic, that was invested so deeply in the man who was at risk…

Forget it. Just focus on something else.

He needed to get used to this. It was part of the package and if Virgil would be the hero, at the very least Alex could support him in every way he could.

That hand landed on his shoulder again, and Alex realised he had been standing in front of the refrigerator for an unaccounted length of time, a container of Virgil’s home cooked fettuccine carbonara in his hands.

Gordon lifted the container from his fingers and placed it in the fridge, closing the door quietly.

“C’mon, I’ve got something to show you.” That hand gently nudged him towards the patio door, and with nothing better to do, Alex followed Gordon out onto the pool deck.

The sun was almost gone, the Island draped in a faintly orange blue darkness. The wind was gentle, just teasing his hair, and the soundscape was pure ocean.

He drew in a deep breath. God, this place was beautiful.

Gordon was throwing on a pair of sandshoes he had apparently left out here. “Okay, Apples, it’s going to be dark. There is nothing on this island that can kill you…well, beyond Grandma’s cooking.” Gordon blinked, winced and stopped talking. A guilty look and he was peering up at the villa, listening. After a moment or two when he didn’t hear whatever it was he expected, he visibly relaxed. “But the cliffs can be treacherous. Watch your step and stay close.”

Alex found himself nodding as Gordon handed him a flashlight.

Without saying anything further, the aquanaut strode over to the edge of the deck, across the garden, and onto a gravel trail.

Alex hurried to follow.

It wasn’t long before the darkness enveloped everything. They became two bouncing lights traveling down a trail Alex could barely see.

“Don’t worry, we’re not going far.”

Alex focussed on Gordon’s back and the crunch of the gravel beneath their feet.

“You know, Virgil helped build this path.”

“He did?”

“Well, we all did, really. With the exception of a few castaway additions, we built most of the infrastructure on the Island. Of course, Dad had contractors in to build the villa, but only a very few people he trusted. Us eldest four were the lackeys and all of us have added our bits since.”

Tracy Island truly was a fascinating place. Virgil had taken him down to the beach, they had walked through the rainforests, and sat under the ancient pohutukawa trees that for some reason never stopped flowering and were always full of birds.

The odd thing about the Island was that despite it being an isolated and wild place, every now and again you’d be walking through that wilderness only to stumble across a piece of advanced technology just sitting there doing its thing. Nothing on this Island was what it seemed.

He was pretty sure Virgil hadn’t shown him everything and there was no way Alex expected him to. Hell, his boyfriend had just vanished into a wall, via a painting - a painting done by Virgil himself of the Mars Cornerstone mission on its launch pad. Alex had to admit that he had stared at it long enough at one point, marvelling at the detail and fanboying just a little.

He was getting better at that, really.

But yes, Tracy Island was far from what it seemed - a tropical paradise for a rich family riddled with the technology to support both them and the amazing work they did.

The trail led downhill gradually and Alex was forced to concentrate on where he put his feet rather than daydream about Virgil with his shirt off digging the damned thing.

Despite the darkness, Alex could roughly work out where they were headed. The villa itself was close to a compass pointing north and the path was turning gently around the edge of the caldera. As they moved closer towards the water, the trail dipped and turned in on itself, almost heading back to the house, but getting lower until Alex could hear the lapping of gentle waves over rock.

They had to be below the villa, maybe slightly to the east? It was totally dark with no sign of the house lights.

“Watch your step here, we are walking out onto a rock platform at the edge of the water.” Gordon reached out and gently gripped Alex’s upper arm as if he was a safety line or something.

Gordon was obviously as much a rescue operative as any of the Tracys, and Alex had to admit that that grip was reassuring.

After stepping over who knows how many rocks, Gordon finally brought them to a halt. He felt surrounded by water and there was a weird echo in the breeze as if there was something above or around them. Alex flicked his torch about only to find volcanic rock or water almost everywhere.

“Where are we?”

“Near where I launch Thunderbird Four, a little under the villa. Be aware that occasionally, just occasionally, there are bats down here.” Gordon sighed. “Virgil is not a fan.”

Alex blinked. “Of bats?”

“Nope, does not like them. I think one scared him once while he was doing maintenance high up on Two. Nearly fell off his ‘bird. He was not happy.”

“Oh.” Alex wasn’t sure of his own opinion of bats having never really encountered any. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Okay, now we get to turn off our flashlights.”

“What?”

“It’s fine. Just stay where you are and don’t fall into the ocean.”

A small part of Alex was wary. Being a geek of long standing, Alex had been subjected to the occasional jock’s practical joke. Trust wasn’t given easily because of it. But this was Gordon Tracy, Virgil’s brother, and honestly, if Alex was going to accidentally step into said ocean or brain himself, his company was the best it could be.

Besides, Alex could always turn the torch back on.

So when Gordon turned his off, Alex did the same.

Darkness enveloped them. His eyes were slow to adjust, afterimages of torchlight marring the blackness. His hearing compensated and the water bubbled and washed over rocks he couldn’t see.

Until he could.

Out of the pitch black, a soft blue glow emerged in the water, outlining each wave as it sputtered to shore. More than starlight or moon light, it was like the glow of many tiny insects in the water.

“Omigod, is that…”

Gordon exhaled beside him. “Yeah, bioluminescent algae. Only discovered this batch yesterday. Haven’t even had the chance to show Virgil.”

“Wow.” His voice was more breath than anything else. He crept slowly forward, only to realise Gordon still had his hand on Alex’s arm.

“Careful.”

“I just -“

“Yeah, I know.”

The both slowly knelt down on the hard rock, edging towards the glowing water. Alex reached out and touched the magical water.

Faint light danced around his fingers.

“Virgil loves this kind of thing, you know.” Gordon’s voice was quiet as their hands trailed through the water. “I can show you the path and maybe the two of you can come down here tomorrow night.”

“Will it still be here?”

Alex felt Gordon shrug. “Maybe. It does what it does. In any case, it is a good spot to share some time alone. Virg loves a good life sciences interlude.”

Alex frowned at Gordon, only then realising that he could just see the outline of the man’s face. “You have always been so kind to me, especially regarding me and Virgil. Encouraging, even.”

That ghostly face turned towards him. “Yeah, well, Virgil deserves a little happiness. I found the woman of my dreams not so long ago, and…I’m happy he’s found someone, too.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment before looking up. “I’m his wingman.” There was a forced snort of laughter. “It’s my job.” A grin that wasn’t as genuine as Alex had come to expect on his face. There was obviously something deeper at work here. “You do him good.” That hand on Alex’s arm squeezed gently. “I’ll support anything that does my bro good.”

The unsaid wafted through the air and Alex had the sudden feeling that out of all the brothers, Gordon was the last one he should ever want to piss off.

Alex swallowed. “I’ll do my best, you have my word.”

“That sounds like an oath, Apples.” The more familiar amusement was back in Gordon’s tone and Alex welcomed it.

“You can consider it one, if you like. Either way, that’s what I’m going to do.” He stared at his fingers and the swirl of glowing algae. “He’s out there, right now, saving lives. He’s a hero in every sense of the word.” He smiled. “You all are. It’s a lot to live up to, but I promise you, I will do my best.”

There was silence for a moment.

“I know you will.” It was said with such surety, Alex had to take it as a compliment, but at the same time it was very clear that Gordon, or perhaps the Tracys as a whole, had probably investigated him thoroughly.

Understandable, even if it was a little unsettling.

For a while after that there was just the sound of the Island and the ocean around it. The softly glowing algae was fascinating to watch and he lost himself in it.

“It never gets easier, by the way.”

Alex turned to find Gordon staring down at the water as much as he had been. “What doesn’t?”

“Being left behind.”

Alex looked away. “Oh.” He drew in a breath. “I can handle it.”

“Alex, being a member of this family is hard. I just want to say that if you need to talk, I have ears…and experience.”

Alex blinked, not entirely sure he wanted to show exactly what he was feeling. It was new, a mix of awe and terror. He was amongst Thunderbirds, but the view from the Island was very different from just being a fan. His heart was invested and he knew that under all that fantastic technology there were friends he cared for, loved.

He swallowed. “Thank you, Gordon. That means a lot.”

The aquanaut sat up and stretched, sitting cross-legged on the rock. “Yeah, well, it’s kinda great to have a new team member on bro watch. Though I must say, you can be as bad as each other. You love your late night engineering fests. Insomnia, much? Erica has all the stories.”

Alex sat up. “Erica?”

Gordon snorted and climbed to his feet. “Gotta do the groundwork on the guy after my big brother’s heart, don’t I?”

“What satellite surveillance not enough?”

“No, that’s John’s job. I prefer up close and personal.” He snickered.

“You know I’d feel threatened, except your nose is glowing quite comically.”

Alex scored as Gordon swiped at his nose…which incidentally wasn’t really glowing…except, oh, now it was, at least a little bit. Alex giggled.

“Ha, ha.”

Of course, that set him giggling more. “I’m sorry, Gordon.” He sobered a little. “Thank you for showing me all this, and for the talk. It means a lot. Really.”

Gordon grumbled.

“And I promise to not tell Erica all the stories Virgil is going to tell me about you.”

“What?”

“Well, I have to do my own surveillance don’t I? A little low on the tech side of things, but much more fun over lunch.”

Gordon stared at him for a solid moment. “Okay, bring it on.” And he was grinning fit to bust something. He reached out and patted Alex on the back. “You know, Apples, I think you might just survive this crazy.”

Alex found himself grinning almost as much.

-o-o-o-

They stayed out on that rock talking for a long time. Gordon was easy to talk to, loved to laugh, and knew all the goss – no wonder Erica liked him.

Every now and again, John would check in with an update. Everything seemed to be going well for the two eldest brothers and Alex was grateful to hear it.

But eventually they had to climb back up the path. By this time, the moon had risen and added its own light to the scene. Tracy Peak above was a dark, almost menacing, shadow, blocking out stars. But the energy in the air, the ocean, and the rock, all bathed in silver…god, it was just beautiful.

They made it back to the Villa and after a while Alex bade Gordon and Alan, who by that time had discovered they had been missing and was very put out, goodnight and climbed the stairs to the residential rooms.

He had his shower and put on his pyjamas, but he was restless. He dug out his tablet and looked up the engineering boards to see who was up and about. V.T. Green had posted earlier in the day and there was a massive discussion going on about his latest idea.

Alex sat down on his bed for a moment, then immediately stood up again.

“Damn it.”

Hugging his tablet to his chest, he crept out the door of the visitor’s suite and padded down the hall to Virgil’s rooms.

They had spent many an hour talking in Virgil’s living room. His couch, decked out in crocheted throw rugs in a rainbow of colours was the most comfy couch Alex had ever curled up on.

Went with the coffee, he guessed.

But tonight, he was missing Virgil and doing his best not to worry, so he did curl up on the comfiest couch and settled in to both read Green’s blog post and to wait for his hero to return.

God, so sappy.

But he didn’t care.

Green was again talking polymers and yes, while the concept wasn’t fully solid, it did tease at a bunch of ideas. Alex opened an app and began scribbling down notes.

-o-o-o-

“Alex, love.”

Something touched his cheek ever so gently.

“Love, you need to wake up.”

Fingers in his hair.

“Alex.”

He leant into the warmth at his cheek.

“God, I need to buy a longer couch.”

A gentle shake of his shoulder.

“Alex.”

One moment he was pleasantly snoozing, next his memory came online and… “Virgil!”

“Hey, hey, love.” And he was wrapped in the strongest arms in the world. “You fell asleep on my couch.” A fond sigh. “I need a longer couch.”

But Alex was too busy breathing in shower clean hair, soap, and Virgil to notice any inconvenient stiff limbs. “You’re back. Wha-what is the time?”

“Somewhere around 4am.” Virgil was stroking his hair.

“Four…god…” He pulled back and examined his emergency responder. “Are you okay?”

Virgil was in a loose t-shirt and pyjama pants and though he looked tired, he looked good.

A gentle smile. “Perfectly fine. Rescue went well, we saved all three people. Sorry it took so long, it was a challenging situat-“

He stopped talking because Alex placed a finger across his lips. “Never apologise for being the hero you are.”

Virgil stared at him, eyes a little wide…and then began kissing that finger.

Alex couldn’t help but laugh and then they were hugging and kissing, and whoa! His feet left the ground as he was swung into a pair of heavy lifting arms. “Virgil!”

“Shh, you’re tired, I’m tired, it’s so late it’s almost daylight. Our date time was stolen…again.” Virgil kicked the door to his bedroom open, revealing his massive bed. A couple more steps and Alex was being gently lowered onto the covers. Virgil crouched down in front of him. “Fall asleep with me?”

Alex’s heart was pumping far faster than any kind of sleep required, but…”Sure.” Virgil’s tired smile had Alex reaching out to brush a finger across his cheek. “C’mon, my sleepy hero, it’s nighty-night time.”

That smile widened just a little.

Covers were lifted and limbs moved. Alex wrapped himself around Virgil, kissing the nape of his neck as he felt the man slowly relax.

“You know this isn’t the first time you’ve fallen asleep in my arms, though I must say my couch has nothing on this.”

“Mmmhmm.” Virgil shifted a little. “Love you.”

Alex rested his cheek against warm skin and closed his eyes. Virgil had returned to him safe…this time. But regardless of all the coming times, the mere thought of a future with this wonderful man…he would take all the times he could get and cherish every one of them.

A soft sigh as he finally relaxed.

“Love you, too.”

-o-o-o-

[kwanisms]

Hiraeth

profiles: 01 || 02

⇺ previous | masterlist | next ⇻

add your name to the taglist

summary: Moon Byeoli lives in Busan with her best friend Jamie Park and works at the aquarium. Their next door neighbor is Park Sungjin. Growing up, Byeoli has never really believed in the supernatural always finding a logical explanation for things that go bump in the night. Her life is about to be thrown out of control when new neighbors move in across the hall. What will happen when Byeoli befriends them and learns they aren’t exactly… human.

ch 23 - *pees faster*

pairing: sungjin x oc x hyunjin

warnings: foul language, Minho being a creep (reading in the dark, listening to thoughts. He’s bored and immortal lmao), and that’s about it lol

wc: 2.5k (I’m sorry 😭)

updates every weekday @ 7PM CST

a/n: times and dates DO NOT matter!!

taglist: @yoonguurt @x-woozi @lachinitaaaaa

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

Byeoli looked up at the sky, the sun having set completely and the stars were starting to come out. The night had been even better than she expected. She’d been so nervous, picking through her closet but Jamie had been there through facetime to help her pick a dress. She’d gone with a short monochromatic ensemble. A black skirt with a white bust and a bow that trailed down the left side.

Hyunjin had shown up in a deep blue suit with an even darker blue tie. His hair he left down which Byeoli was thankful for. She loved when he wore his hair down. Hyunjin had surprised her with reservations at a newer one that had just opened up. Hyunjin told her not to worry and let him handle things this time. He was even able to score a seat by the window that looked out over the beach.

The atmosphere of the restaurant was calm like the part of the ocean it overlooked. Byeoli was impressed with the interior. Lots of white, beige, light browns, and gold with hints of blue in the decor. Blue cushioned seats in golden metal frames surrounding white top tables with the same golden metal legs. The blue cushioned booths matched the chairs exactly which added to the feel of a classy establishment if they could afford to match the upholstery.

The table the hostess had led them to was down a row of tables for two in front of wide picture windows overlooking the beach and the water. The hostess showed them to an empty table in the corner, setting down the menus and telling them to enjoy their meal as they sat down.

The waves of the water washing up on the beach looked so calm and serene, enticing the two and calling them from their seats. Though most of it had passed in a blur, she remembered laughing and chatting well into their meal. The food tasted amazing and the service was better than she expected.

After dinner, Hyunjin led the walk from the restaurant down to the beach, cutting through small alleys and surprising Byeoli with his knowledge of the streets despite having only moved there recently. They found themselves on the beach where Byeoli removed her shoes and they walked, side by side down the sand as the sun set. Hyunjin had heard from another patron in the restaurant that there was going to be a firework display to celebrate the end of summer and first day of the autumn season.

He’d asked Byeoli what she thought of the idea and was glad she agreed to see it with him. As they walked, he couldn’t help but notice the closeness between them physically, their hands brushing against one another until he took the initiative and took her hand, his heart hammering in his chest when she accepted his silent invitation. He could barely focus on anything but the warm feeling of her hand in his that he almost didn’t catch her next sentence.

She had to use the bathroom and luckily they were passing by a small bathing shack. Hyunjin offered to hold her shoes and she thanked him, hurrying inside and disappearing. Hyunjin had waited, looking around and noticing that people were starting to sit on blankets on the sand. He pulled out his phone and sent her a text, telling her the show was about to start, chuckling at her response before he noticed someone at a small booth with blankets.

He walked across the sand, approaching the booth and asked if the blankets were for sale. He bought one, thanking the man and walked back to the small building as Byeoli emerged. She smiled as he led her to a secluded section of sand and set the blanket down for them to sit on. He held out his hand to help Byeoli sit down without flashing the whole beach. They sat in silence, waiting for the show to start.

“I can’t remember the last time I watched a firework display,” Byeoli said softly, knees brought up and her arms wrapped under her knees. Hyunjin thought she looked so cute in her dress, shoes sitting beside her on the blanket and her feet buried in the sand as she looked out across the water. He followed her gaze, taking in the calm and placid waters.

“It’s been years,” Hyunjin said softly, looking back at her as she turned her head to look at him.

When he thought about it, it truly had been years since he’d watched a firework display. Perhaps the last time he’d seen was when he lived in Jeju with Minho and Jisung. Before Changbin found them. He didn’t see the point in watching them in the city. In his opinion, fireworks looked much better when set off over water. Everything was better near the ocean to him.

“I haven’t watched one in years,” Hyunjin repeated. His eyes looked at her face, studying her features as she also thought back, probably trying to remember the last time she saw such a display.

Byeoli nodded her head. “I think it’s been years for me, too,” she replied, voice trailing off. The last time she’d sat for a firework show was New Years a few years back with Jamie, Sungjin, Mark, Jackson and… Jaebeom. They had bundled up to brave the cold ocean air and sat on the beach a little closer to the bridge and watched the fireworks together. That was the night she and Jaebeom had confessed their love to one another. ‘Why am I thinking about that?’ She wondered suddenly.

‘I’m here with Hyunjin and yet I’m thinking about him? I need to get it together.’ She shook her head.

Hyunjin watched as she looked away, clearly having been deep in thought but he couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off her. She looked so stunning right now. The way the red sunlight reflected off the calm surface of the water and bounced and danced over her features. It drove him mad, how gorgeous she looked. He’d always thought she was beautiful, ever since he laid eyes on her the day he moved in but there was something different about her tonight. It had to be the dying light of the sunset.

It only took a few more minutes and as soon as the light of the sun was gone, the first of the fireworks went off, exploding just above them in the sky and painting everything on the beach in an array of colors. The gathered crowd gasped in unison, followed by vocal shows of appreciation for the beauty of the light. Byeoli’s eyes were on the show but Hyunjin’s eyes were still on her. The way her eyes lit up with each new burst of fire and light.

He scooted towards her, wanting to be closer and his side pressing against hers. She smiled up at him briefly before the show drew her attention again. Hyunjin reached up across her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, his hand brushing against her cheek softly. It was a simple gesture but he hoped she noticed the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer than usual.

She did.

Byeoli looked up at him, eyes wide. The fireworks continued, occasionally casting a colorful light over them but neither one was watching anymore. Byeoli’s eyes were on Hyunjin and his eyes on her as they had been all night. “You got some…” Hyunjin said, a chuckle escaping him as he reached up again, this time to brush some sand off her chin. He tried to pull his hand back but Byeoli’s hand shot up, grabbing his gently. With anyone else, this might have just been a regular occurrence, but to him, it sent a shock of electricity through his body.

She held his hand in place, near her cheek. Hyunjin watched as she leaned into his touch and his eyes dipped to look at her lips, noticing how they parted as she sighed. He hoped she took notice of the way he looked at her. He probably should have said something but he didn’t trust himself to speak.

He wanted to kiss her but he was waiting for her permission.

Byeoli knew he wanted to kiss her and she knew he was waiting for her permission. She was just about to give it but a particularly loud boom made them both jump as the other spectators whooped. Byeoli looked up in time to see the dying shape of a star. Another one went off, filling the sky with gold and red. She looked back at Hyunjin, her heart skipping a beat when she caught him looking at her. His smile morphed into a smirk as he looked up at the sky. She looked down at his hand and took it in hers, lacing her fingers with his and glanced back up, smiling again at him.

They turned to watch the grand finale, which was spectacular. Bright and colorful shapes like hearts and stars that filled the night sky, sparkling amongst the stars with shimmering showers of gold, red, and white. When it finally ended, the crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Byeoli didn’t even let go of his hand to applaud, glancing up at him with a small smile, cheeks looking pink but that could have been the light or even the cold.

Hyunjin reluctantly pulled his hand from hers as he got to his feet before reaching down to help her up Byeoli brushed herself off, grabbing her shoes as Hyunjin grabbed the blanket. He shook it out and took her hand in his, walking back towards the boardwalk.

Byeoli chatted about the display, Hyunjin listening as they walked back to the apartment. Byeoli stopped briefly to put her shoes back on as they walked off the sand. At some point, Hyunjin removed his jacket and placed it over her shoulders, noticing how she shivered slightly now that the sun was gone and the moon in its place. Once at their building, he opened the door, letting her into the building first as she chatted away about the finale.

Hyunjin pressed the button to call the elevator, smiling as he listened to her. When the lift arrived, they stepped on, pressing the button for the top floor and riding it up. “I had an amazing time tonight,” Byeoli concluded as they stepped off the elevator, standing in the hall connecting their apartments.

“Thank you so much, Hyunjin,” she added, looking up at him, her cheeks a soft pink. “I’d like to do it again,” she added. Hyunjin nodded. “Me too,” he replied. He took notice of her body language as she stood in front of him. “Maybe we could see a movie, or go to the art exhibit that’s in town next week,” Byeoli offered. “I’d actually love to see that art exhibit,” Hyunjin interjected. Byeoli smiled at his enthusiasm. “I knew you would,” she said softly.

“I should probably go in,” she finally said, a small sigh escaping her. “Oh,” she said quickly and Hyunjin watched as she shrugged off his jacket and carefully made sure it didn’t have any sand on it. ‘Cute,’ Hyunjin thought, watching her shake off any sand that might have lingered. She looked up, taking a step towards Hyunjin and holding out his jacket. He took it from her, his hand lingering over hers for a moment.

“You should probably go in, too,” she added once he’d taken back his jacket and nodded towards his apartment door. Hyunjin glanced over his shoulder before turning back to her. “I will, after you go in,” he replied, throwing his jacket over his shoulder and nodding towards her apartment.

Silence fell over them as they stared at one another. Byeoli saw his eyes flicker to look at her lips again, her own eyes mimicking his and glancing at his lips, hoping he got the message. She knew he wanted to kiss her but she wanted him to know she wanted to kiss him. She was determined to make the first move if he didn’t. Luckily she didn’t need to.

Seeing her eyes look down to his lips, Hyunjin grabbed Byeoli by the waist and pulled her closer, his lips crashing against hers. It was much more rushed than he intended but the moment their lips met, he couldn’t stop himself. The way her lips moved against his, the way her hands moved up his chest to settle on his shoulders, even the way she leaned against him spurred him on, his free hand moving behind her to hold her body against his, palm pressed against the small of her back.

Byeoli’s lips parted, allowing Hyunjin’s tongue to slip past them. Her stomach erupted into a frenzied fluttering feeling, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t been kissed like this in a long time and she pouted when it ended. Hyunjin chuckled softly, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “If we didn’t need to breathe,” he said, his voice reflecting how breathless she felt. “I would never stop kissing you,” he added softly. “I don’t need air,” Byeoli replied just as softly. Hyunjin let out a laugh and shook his head.

“I think you do,” he answered but she shook her head this time. “No,” she pouted. “No air, only kisses,” she added. Hyunjin leaned in, pressing another kiss to her lips, lingering when she wrapped her arms around his neck. She grumbled as he pulled away again. “Stop not kissing me,” she whined, making him laugh again. “Go inside,” he muttered, brushing his nose against hers.

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow,” he added as she pouted harder. “Mmm,” she hummed, feigning a face of concentration. “No. Kiss me now,” she replied, cheering silently when his lips found hers again. “Go inside,” he murmured against her lips. She whined as Hyunjin gently pulled her arms from his neck. “I promise I’ll come over tomorrow just to kiss you again,” he added. “Fine,” Byeoli conceded, still pouting. “One more?” She perked up as Hyunjin backed her up against her door.

“One more and then you go inside,” he said, giving her a stern look, trying to fight the smile that threatened to break his facade. He leaned in, kissing her again, sighing when he felt her hand cup his cheek. “Go in,” he said softly. Byeoli unlocked the door and slowly turned the knob. Hyunjin took a step back allowing her to open the door. “Goodnight,” she said softly, eyes sparkling up at him.

“Goodnight Byeoli,” he responded, his smile widening. Byeoli disappeared into her apartment and Hyunjin waited until he heard the click of the latch before he turned away, crossing the short distance to his own apartment and let himself in. He shut the door and leaned against it, reliving the last ten minutes in his head. His thoughts were interrupted by the turning of paper. He walked into the apartment a bit to see Minho sitting in his chair, reading a newspaper. Hyunjin stared at him, a confused expression on his face. ‘When did he start reading the paper?’ He asked himself.

“I started reading it last week,” Minho said softly, answering Hyunjin’s unasked question, causing Hyunjin to frown. “I thought you promised not to read our thoughts, Min,” he said, standing up straight, tossing his jacket over his shoulder again as he looked at the vampire. Minho merely turned the page over, eyes following the article he was reading. “Kind of hard not to when your mind is yelling,” he answered nonchalantly as if he wasn’t talking about mind reading.

“I take it you had a nice night?” Minho asked, glancing over at Hyunjin who nodded slowly. “That’s nice,” Minho said quietly, returning to the paper, leaving Hyunjin to walk to his room in a slightly confused daze. Minho looked up from the paper as he heard the distant click of Hyunjin’s door. His mind wasn’t with his roommate however. He heard another voice and chuckled to himself. “Oh my, how awkward that must be,” he whispered to himself as he looked back down at the newspaper.

Out in the hallway, Sungjin climbed the last few steps to the landing and looked between his neighbors’ apartments, glad they had finally gone inside. A frown was forming on his face as his mind replayed the last few moments of what he’d just witnessed, trying to process what he’d just seen. ‘What the fuck?’

═══════════════════════════════════════

[osirimirio]

she is just like the moon, part of her was never showed until the day i started talking to her. ruffled hair with a messy bun on top, glasses fogged with the hot coffee cup she is holding and a smile which lit up the whole sky.

i don't know who she is, what her name is, what does she do or where does she go all the time carrying those books in her hands — walking from the bus stop to the ancient library where the "nerds" usually go. her dressing style is simple like that of a daisy, white petals around a yellow dot.

but what i can say is, she is pretty like the moon who shines bright in the night sky. she needs someone to rely on, just like moon needs the sun's light to shine.

when she speaks about the things she loves with her friends, her eyes sparks brighter than the city lights and the night stars. her lips pout everytime she thinks she messed up.

many think she is outgoing and lively, but what i think is she is cold and reserved. a part of her is always hidden, which is what i need to know.

putting the unknown aside, when she feels frustrated, she neither shouts nor throws any thing, she cries in silence. that is when she cries all her might and will out, just in silence.

the tears flow down her cheeks like the waterfall beside my home, deep valley within the woods, a small cabin surrounded by the sounds of nature. if she were with me in my cabin, i would embrace her, trade my happiness with her saddness.

"that thing will never be seen." i would say, wrapping her in my blanket. if that something made her cry, i wish to make it disappear so she won't cry again. i swear i would do anything for her, only for her.

if we were in the same class, she would definitely laugh to all the silly jokes i crack. the giggles she is trying to hold down in her throat and the laughs she is trying to control, i wish to see all that.

but one thing she is scared of is: the more she laughs, the more she may cry. she tries to balance the happy and sad in her little life.

if she were given a chance from the almighty to only have happiness and goodness in her life — life long i will make her laugh till she feels like her belly button is going to fall off. i want to hear her laugh.

coming to her most serious side, the exam time; the pen in her hand clicks all the time causing that sound alternatively, the coffee cups piling by her side, the dried ink thriving to write long enough to complete her revision.

the black glasses sit on the bridge of her nose, sliding down to the tip, she slides them back up. her baby hairs fall on to her face and she puts them behind her ears. all she has to do now is focus but the library becomes her bedroom.

while she is asleep, i remove her glasses, close her books, tidy her study space and sit next to her but two chairs behind, only to look at her despite the time running.

with all the things i love about her, the part she never showed, the part she always knew. the part i want to know, the part which i never knew. on this blue moon, i wish to become close to her, only for this lifetime.

dear god, banish all the men who think of her, do no good to the men who do evil to her, take away the souls of the men who don't deserve her.

dear god, let her be mine, once and for all, this lifetime of a lover and not a knight who had to see his princess get married to another man.

🌸 anon

Little flower 🌸,

How do you even think you svck at writing! Look at you! Look at this! If this isn't an instinct of a writer then what is!

Oh my dear god what good have i done to be read like this, to be talked like this.

You're amazing amazing amazing. The way you can speak about the love you hold so simply yet strongly is your strength. It's so beautiful to witness this bloom of yours.

My messy bun on top, my glasses, my coffee cup, my books, my standing in the bus stops, my shutting myself down, my need of embracement, my grip on my pen, my unknown side. My baby you're like a magic. Please write. Always write. About you, about your loves. And yes write your long letters to me like you've been doing too. You'll escape, you'll find peace, you'll be greater than now. Just the way you've wanted, you'll surely become.

My love will always be by your side. Now and forever.

[eabwriting2023]

A Quiet Lake - DAY THREE

Sunlight flecks reflect upon the crystal water, glistening like stars. Early Autumn sitting on my lonesome gazing at the landscape in front of me as if it were painted by an 18th century artist. I am surrounded by crowds of trees of all different hues. Burnt oranges, yellow, browns and greens like something out of a storybook.

I smile to myself. Alone with my thoughts. I am not plagued with regrettable decisions I have made, I am present in the moment.

Dressed as if I am blending in with the nature around me, top to bottom in fancy equipment. One plain colour, military green with my bucket hat, waistcoat and trousers wadding around the shallow part of the lake in large wellington boots.

Patience is the key, which luckily I have sitting upon a nearby rock mound with a metal fishing rod resting on the edge of the water. I sit and think, think and I sit wiling away the hours.

As the sky transforms from a blue cloudy sky into a sunset, I watch the colours disappear. The sun now lower directly in my vision, the yellow and orange rays slowly disappearing from view.

The trees in the distance turn dark resembling large figures watching. The lake like a blanket of midnight blue stretching to the other side of the island.

It is difficult to see what is happening. My eyes can only see a few meters ahead of me as I peer into the darkness. No fish or creature would be larking about now.

I rise to my feet feeling wobbly like jelly. I must have been seated for so long I have turned numb although as I turn to pack my many equipment up I am drawn to the lake, something in the back of my mind tells me to stop what I’m doing and head into the water.

Everything inside me tells me I am a fool, I feel my heart and head wresting and I have no control over either one.

Even with my wellington boots on my feet I feel the coolness from water seeping in for the moon has now started its working shift.

Deeper and deeper, the voice in my head tells me where everywhere I look I am in complete blackness as the water rests upon my shoulders.

A whisper carried by the wind that sounds as if it’s coming from below. Movement from the deep follows my shadow, my legs dangling. My intuition was wrong and I know I am in great danger. I feel the panic inside my heart banging to be let out.

I need to swim back to shore however with all the will in the world I cannot move my legs and arms which are stuck to my side like glue.

I panic searching around, looking over my shoulders in despair but all my eyes can pick out is the tiny speckles of glitter in the water.

This figure swims with ease gliding at me like prey growing larger and larger until all I see is a set of glowing pointed teeth just inches away from me….

It stops short as if frozen in time like I felt. My fear and panic lowers as the creature becomes clearer in the moonlight.

A mermaid of sorts, a siren with terrifying teeth and tangled hair like seaweed her skin moss like and spongy with two black pupils staring back at me.

I can move my head, moving around this frozen mermaid I quickly realise, this is not real, this is made from cardboard, she is 2D, a flat origami model…

My mind starts becoming more clearer, I can see like an owl hunting. These trees around me aren’t trees at all but paper! This scenery I see for miles and miles is a painted background! It truly is a scene painted from a book!

My body feels light and heavy at the same time relived because I can finally wiggle, but something is wrong.. I am wobbling and floppy and as I look above me expecting to see the nights sky all that witness are strings, wood and hands pulling me up.

[lou-struck]

Gone Swimming

Lucifer x Mc

Tropical Getaway

~While on a trip with his brothers, Lucifer makes some plans to get you all to himself.

This little drabble is a part of my “I Want to Getaway Event” Check it out if you want to!

By the time you and the Brothers arrived at the private beach, you are absolutely dripping in sweat. You wouldn’t of minded it so much if you were the only person who was perspirating like your life depended on it, but the other members of your party are completely unbothered by the heat. Most annoyingly Lucifer.

Even when wearing multiple swimsuits, the Avatar of Pride is unphased by the heatwave currently incapacitating you on your trip to the human world's beaches. They are as rowdy as ever ditching their beach bags on the sand and running across the hot sand and into the water.

Unable to keep up with the energy of the men around you and go to cool off under the shade the private cabana Diavolo took the liberty of renting for all of you. Stretching out on one of the plush lounge chairs and enjoying the subtle breeze of the air conditioning on your skin.

It feels so good you sigh in contentment and let yourself relax deeper into the chair cushions. It feels so good, you could just stay there all day. Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the distant sounds of crashing waves and the occasional laughter of the Demon Brothers who have stolen your heart.

“You’re not falling asleep are you.” a deep voice says from the doorframe. Through the flowing white curtains, you are just able to make out the dark hair of Lucifer standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest in displeasure,

Upon seeing the eldest brother you spring to your feet, and smooth out the comfortable cushion you were just lounging on. "No, not at all." You say cheekily taking a step towards him.

“Then what were you doing?” he smirks striding over the birch flooring and wrapping his arms around you.

"Just testing out the chair," you say and lean back into him.

"You're a terrible Liar MC," he chuckles. "But I guess I can forgive you if you join me for a swim."

"I think that can be arraigned," you hum spinning out of his embrace and allowing him to take you outside.

"Follow me then," he says grabbing your beach bag from the wooden coffee table. "I know a place where the two of us can go where the others won't find us for a while."

The sun hits your skin ripping off the comfort the Air conditioning had provided you with as you try to make your way through the sand in your flip-flops. You step to make your way to the water but instead, he guides you to a small sandy trail through the lush greenery.

You know that he has a plan but you don't understand why you are taking this impromptu hike in the dead of summer. Curiously you walk on through the trees until a lone branch blocks your path. He gently brushes it aside to show you a scene that leaves you speechless.

~

The absence of the green leaves reveals a perfectly secluded cove, the blue of the water rivals the sky and it looks so enticing you just want to jump into its depths. The rocky border on its outskirts completely hides it from the rest of the beach with the exception of an underwater cave.

"Do you like our spot?" the demon asks with a look of triumph etched into his flawless face.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, suddenly afraid of destroying the tranquil scenery with an utterance.

Leading awestruck little you down the stone steps and onto the pinkish sand he places the bag down on a shady spot.

As he turns to head into the water you stare daggers through the waterproof material of his Swim shirt hoping that magically it would disappear. "Are you really going to keep that on?” you pout jutting out your lower lip and gesturing to the garment.

"Would you like me to take it off?" he laughs already going for the zipper as you eagerly nod.

In a flash, the garment is tossed past your face causing you to blink. By the time your vision clears Lucifer is already waist deep in the water. With a sigh, you wade out to join him taking your time to enjoy the feeling of the cool water on your warm body.

“It took you long enough mc,” he teases, “If I'd have known how slow you are in the water I would have thrown you in myself.”

“Oh Shuttup,” you scoff running your hands atop of the water to playfully hit him with a few droplets.

Oh no…

That splash was a lot bigger than you expected, the demon looks at you in shock as water drips down his face and messes up his pristine hair.

“Did you just splash me MC?” he asks calmly as you try to back away from him as slowly as possible in fear of retribution.

“N-no, I think it was a wave.” you lie, his black orbs staring you down as he reaches out to grab at you. You try to dodge but he grabs your arms gently and pulls you close to him.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied to me today,” he growls in your ear dragging you through the water and pressing you in his embrace. “What do you have to say for yourself, Human?”

“I’m sorry?” you squeak out embarrassedly.

A hand comes up to cup your cheek, " I believe I'll need more than a simple sorry MC." he laughs. His eyes taking in your wide eyes and parted lips.

Just as he leans in to claim the latter as his own an ear-splitting shriek comes from above as not one, but all six of his brothers rain down from the cliffside effectively ruining the moment.

Snapping out of your trance, you have a feeling Mammon is the ring leader of the chaos.

“Oi Lucifer,” the white-haired demon yells as he surfaces above the deep water, “What do you think you’re doing with MC?”

[helliontherapscallion]

pspspsp can I just request an immortal reader who's life is just dull/sad as hell since they've seen their loved ones leave or die in front of them so many times

but when they meet SBI or anyone, their life just suddenly brightens up? (Platonic and it can be any type of fic!)

(A/N): I got waaaayy too carried away with this. Star god reader my beloved (also, I’d imagine that your cloak looks like this guy’s but on the inside with the outsides being any color of your choice (credit goes to original artist))

If you want more god!reader content with the dream smp, @wooloo-inc has a really good series about a male!nature god!reader (aka, the god of dilf collection)

In the beginning when DreamXD created you (which if you think about it, that makes him your father, but I digress) from stardust and meteorite shards, you were a ball of fun loving sunshine (well, starshine?)

You loved watching over all of humankind, admiring their determination and bonds with other humans (both romantic and platonic)

Your older brother, the god of the moon, told you about how they viewed you and you were amazed

“Oberon?” You ran up to your older brother and tugged on his cloak making him hum in question, not looking up from his parchment scroll. “What- what do the humans think of me?”

He scoffed and glanced at you with his lily white irises, “why are you on about them again? They are lowly creatures compared to us, filled with greed and misfortune.”

“They worship us and that’s how you speak of them?”

“(Y/n) believe me, you have not seen the brutality they are capable of. War, famine, greed, plague, genocide, it’s all something you have not witnessed before. You have only seen the good in those things.” 

“But Oberon, I wanna-” he lightly smacked the side of your head, “use proper English. We are gods and you will behave as such.”

You huffed, “I want to know about how they view us! I do not care about the bad things they have done! Plleeeaaassseeeeeee Beri?” You willed the stars that constantly gleamed in your eyes to shine brighter as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. He may seem like he hated everyone and everything (especially his siblings), but he had a soft spot for his youngest sibling. He just stared at you for a bit before he sighed and shifted in the massive throne so that you could hop up onto his lap. With a wave of a slender pale hand, he conjured up various images of humans with stardust gazing at the stars and the moon with carefree swipes of his hand. 

“They view us as… poetic of sorts. They compare us to romance,” an image of two human males kissing then gazing into the stars laying down on a cliff came into view, “fortune tellers,” an image of the Aquarius and the Capricorn constellations popped up making you squeal in happiness. He chucked and changed the picture to a mother and son standing over a grave looking up in amazement at a shooting star, “and most importantly, as a sign of hope. 

“They see us as complementary, the moon and the stars cannot be as beautiful without the other. We hold the power of the night and everything it touches, (y/n). This is our kingdom, do not forget that,” the image changed to the moon surrounded by stars and swirling blues and purples of nebulas.

You looked at the images with awe, absorbing every word that fell from his mouth. “Beri?” He once again hummed, his deep baritone voice sending vibrations along your back. “Will we be together forever?”

His lanky arms wrapped around your much smaller frame, “for all of eternity. The moon is nothing without the night sky and all of the stars it holds.”

Centuries passed and your fascination with humans only grew from there

When you eventually asked if you could meet a human Oberon reacted angrily and forbade you from speaking of humans again in your shared palace, worried for your safety

When he caught you attempting to sneak out, he locked you in your room for months on end

Humans wondered why the stars hardly appeared in the night sky anymore, forming the theory that they had somehow angered you

They prayed to you more and more, begging and groveling for forgiveness

They left more offerings at shrines

You heard their every word, feeling your heartbreak with sorrow and guilt for your lovely humans

You snuck out of the palace that night determined to make it up to the humans

You quietly snuck past the main room where you and Oberon used to sit on your thrones together and control the night. The large doors were cracked open showing your older brother watching the night with boredom. As you passed, his voice startled you, “I just cannot stop you can I?”

He appeared in the doorframe looking at you emotionlessly, his eyes glinting with hidden pain. “Do you realize how cruel of a place that world is? How cruel humans are?”

“I do not care, brother! They are in anguish because they think I am angry with them! Because you locked me in here!”

“I have told you time and time again, they are ruthless creatures. Humans are constantly clashing with their own kind for the slightest bit of power, they’re greedy creatures! Have you forgotten what happened to Arachnia?”

A shiver went down your spine at the mention of your fellow deity. She wanted to be with humans but they stripped her of her grace and virtuosity, torturing her when the moon would rise. That is the reason spiders attack humans in the night when the moon and stars show themselves and are dormant in the daytime. However, that did not deter you. 

“I have not forgotten what happened to Arachnia, her tale fills me with grief. But not all humans are like that! They are compassionate, loving, and sweet creatures deep down, each and every single one of them!”

“They were not showing compassion or love when they tore Arachnia limb from limb! When they languish in riches while millions die around them! What part of that is compassionate?”

“Sure they do bad things sometimes, but have you forgotten the love they hold for each other? The determination and hope shining from within them when they pray to us? Have you forgotten that?”

“THEIR ACTIONS ARE NOT JUSTIFIED IN ANY WAY!”

“AND OURS ARE? YOU ARE BLIND, OBERON. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE CRUELTY THE GODS HAVE SUBJECTED HUMANS TO? WHEN OUR FATHER TOOK YEARS AWAY FROM THEIR LIFESPANS SOLELY BECAUSE THEY STOPPED WORSHIPPING HIM AS OFTEN AS THEY USED TO? WHAT PART OF THAT IS JUSTIFIED?” 

He just stared at you with angry irises and his chest heaving before he ran a hand through his long ivory hair and turned around, the flowing white cape flowing wildly behind him with unseen air. He walked back into the observation room and back to his throne. Without a second glance to you, he worked on the transition of power between the sun and moon. You could imagine your sister Aelia grinning brightly as she rose the sun for the day.

“You are to never return here if you step foot out that door. You will still have control of your duties of the night. However you will never return. Do not come back groveling for forgiveness when I have given you constant warnings of their cruelty. If I see your face show up here, I will make sure father smites you down. Now get out of my sight.”

You huffed and whipped around to the front entrance, the stars that constantly twinkled and the nebulas that constantly swirled in the inside of your cloak illuminating the white floors below you as you ran. You left the palace without a second thought, leaving your old life behind in favor of spending it with the humans.

When you came crashing to the Earth in a shooting star, you were amazed by the beauty of it up close and in person

It was everything you expected and then some

You heard the humans cheering and thanking you in their prayers when the stars returned brighter than usual

You being completely enamoured by all of the humans, even if they recognized you or not you loved them all unconditionally

You set up a little cottage in the tundra where you could see the night sky clearly with the occasional aurora borealis 

From the roof, you controlled the stars

The tales of you defecting from the heavens was a popular one, and you became somewhat of a symbol of the hope that humanity should hold for themselves and compassion

Occasionally sending shooting stars over humans you knew were stargazing

You have met many lovers, friends, and even your own adopted kids over the next millenia, all of them accepting your immortality and everlasting duties

But it’s all the same in the end: they come, they leave, and they die

With each death of your loved ones, you could feel your will to keep going dissipate

The stars grew dimmer gradually in the night sky

The humans gradually stopped worshipping you as you disappeared from the night skies

You became a distant memory for elders to tell children 

Disappearing from the face of the Earth for a few centuries when you could not take the constant deaths any longer

Nobody knew where your cabin laid so you were undisturbed for centuries on end, left to your grief

That was until a knock sounded at your door

The knock startled you out of the comfort of your bed. Reluctantly, you left the warmth of the multitude of blankets and donned your cloak to hide your unkempt appearance. When you passed the mirror hanging in the hallway, you could see that your face was shrouded by darkness with the exception of a single glint where your eyes were caused by the lone star that was a constant reminder of your position. Before you fell into a deep depression, the stars would illuminate your entire face if you put your hood up. 

You opened the front door without a care in the world. If the beings on the other side were humans that would take you away and torture you, you didn’t care. You’re long past the point of caring for your own well being.

On the other side was a man of average height and long shaggy blond hair pulled into a slick ponytail. He was dressed entirely in green with a green and white striped bucket hat placed on his head. Past you would’ve been cooing at the object, but now you dully looked at the man in front of you. You glanced behind him and your eyes widened at the huge black wings sprouting from his back. You know who he was the second your eye caught the black feathers; he was the Angel of Death.

“Hello, Angel of Death.”

He tried to peer into your shrouded features, only seeing two pinpricks of light where your eyes should be. He gave you a friendly smile, brushing off the snow that gathered on his shoulders. “(Y/n), the God of the Stars and the Night Sky. Giver of compassion to the human race, it’s an honor to meet you.”

“Why are you here? Last time I checked, my last lover died centuries ago.”

“Yes, my condolences. They were lovely when I guided their soul to the afterlife.”

“You still have not answered my question, Angel of Death. Why are you here?” You grit out the last sentence through a clenched jaw. He has no right to talk about them when he assisted in taking them away from you. Him and your cousin, the Goddess of Death Kristin. They took everybody you loved away from you. You knew that their deaths were unavoidable since they were human and you were immortal, but you still couldn’t help but resent them.

“The Goddess of Death sent me. The God of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun sent her a request to send me to check on you.”

You stared at him for a few moments before you saw him shivering slightly and sighed. You always had a soft spot for humans, even if the being in front of you was not a human in the slightest. He reminded you of an old friend. You stepped aside and gestured lazily inside the house, “come in.”

He started to visit more and more over the next century

He eventually befriended you about half a century into the visits

It was extremely difficult to do because of how guarded you were, but he managed to break you out of your shell

You realizing how kind he was and how much he cared for you

You quickly came to the realization that he was immortal as well after reading up on the Angel of Death

After another fifty years, he became your best friend

You both opened up and comforted each other about everybody you both lost over the years

When he adopted Technoblade and then Wilbur not long after Techno, you were extremely hesitant to get close to them

Even going as far as telling Philza that you thought that it was an extremely bad idea

Mortals always end up leaving in the end anyways, it’s best to avoid the endless cycle of hurt that came with having mortals around

You told him about your own adopted children that have died over the years

You refuse to meet them, cutting off all communication with Philza for a year or two

Eventually meeting his three adopted kids when you reluctantly accept a dinner invitation one day

You attempted to appear cold and uncaring, but your love for humans (especially baby humans) shone through when an infant Tommy started to play with your cape

It seemed that the stars and the moving nebulas within the fabric entranced him

From then on whenever you visited Philza, you always held Tommy until he was too old for you to do so

Becoming very attached to the blond with your strong innate parental instincts

You introduce Techno to mythology, sharing stories of your personal interactions with certain gods and entities throughout the years

You teach Techno how to cope with the voices as you constantly hear multiple prayers to you from humans at the same time

You arrange a meeting for Wilbur with the Goddess of Music when he asks you about her

Arranging for her to start giving him lessons in exchange of a favor that will be cashed at a later date

You help raise all three of them, often taking them off Philza’s hands for a night or two 

Their favorite activity with you is watching you raise the stars and turn the sky dark

They always loved to watch you move the stars and summon shooting stars for them

The stars gradually returned to your eyes and a constant ecstatic smile slowly became synonymous with your face again

Humans started to worship you again when the stars in the sky became brighter

You became your old self again after centuries of feeling lost 

To repay them for everything they’ve done for you, you decided to rearrange the stars for one night 

One night of having a different star pattern couldn’t hurt 

Sure, it’d make a few theories pop up among the humans, but those are fun to overhear sometimes

The young boys and Philza behind you watched in awe as your eyes started to glow brightly and you slowly moved your hands gracefully raising the stars with the moon, your cloak starting to flow with nonexistent winds. They’ve seen you raise the stars thousands of times, but it never ceases to amaze them. It was just so… entrancing. 

You broke into a slight sweat and started to move the stars from their original positions in the sky. Shaking slightly, you pushed back against the strain and slight pain that it brought you. You’ve never done this before, so you really didn’t know what you were expecting. You felt someone put a hand on your shoulder.

“What’re you doin, mate?”

“Uh Dad?”

“Not now Techno. Mate, are you alright?”

“Dad, look up. They’re rearranging the stars,” Wilbur breathed out.

You could hear Philza gasp slightly as he watched star after star move until they locked into place. There in the twinkling night sky was each of their names gleaming brightly in small lettering. When you were done, you fell into a kneel onto the ground and rubbed at your aching head panting lightly. 

You could hear the boys around you panic slightly as you regained your breath. As you heard them approach you you looked up at them and smiled, the stars gleaming brightly in your irises. “Do you like it?”

“Y-yes but gods, (y/n) are you alright?”

“I am fine, but stars, I have never done that before. Are you four ready for stargazing?”

“That was so pog, (y/n)! How’d you do that?”

“I hold the power of the stars and the night sky in my hands. My brother once told me that the night is our kingdom.” You laid down onto the grass and took off your cloak to cover up a shivering Tommy and Wilbur next to you. You sighed as you thought about your siblings; you wondered how they were doing. 

“I will gladly move the stars themselves for you four. You are my family.” There was a stretched out moment of comfortable silence as you five watched shooting stars blaze by. Eventually, you saw an aurora borealis materialize above you. Furrowing your brow, you looked at it in question. They don’t appear this time of year, so why-

“Aelia,” you breathed out as you watched the greens flow above you. She must’ve sent a gust of solar wind your way. 

“Isn’t Aelia the Goddess of the Sun?” Wilbur asked you.

“Yes, she is my oldest sister. She must have redirected the solar winds over here.” 

“Damn, what’s with the gods changing everything tonight? You guys need to fuckin chill.”

“Tommy!” Philza scolded and was about to continue before he heard you start to laugh. They’ve only heard you genuinely laugh only a couple of times, so the sound that left your mouth immediately brightened the mood. 

“Yes Tommy, I suppose we do need to ‘fucking chill’.”

“You swore! Fuckin pog,” Tommy cheered to himself as the others looked at you in slight shock at your words. If you’re being completely honest in all of the years you spent alive (which is since basically the beginning of time), you’ve never sworn once. You were raised differently than that. When you realized that the others were staring at you, you smirked at them. The stars twinkling and giving your eyes even more of a mischievous glint, “what? Have you never heard a god swear before?”

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur

[aetheternity]

So sweet, just for me

Synopsis: Just some stories where reader takes care of Virgin! Armin.

Disclaimer: Unprotected sex, blowjobs, Sub Armin and sexually experienced Y/N are all present in this. Minors exit now.

☆☆Just Summer Things☆☆

Sweat coursed down the expanse of every inch of your body. Or maybe it was water you weren't really sure. A set of carefully trimmed nails shivered and shook beside your head, digging into the grimy tree bark. Locks of sun kissed blonde hair stuck to parts of your neck, face and collarbone as you coaxed Armin's breathing down. Forehead resting uncomfortably against the bark and your ass firmly seated against his hips.

"How do you feel sweet boy?"

"I-I.." He panted, pulling his face back a little. Blue doe eyes full of lust and the sweet shine of tears.

His cock currently pressed delicately against your g-spot during what started out as a normal water balloon fight. Between the boys and the girls of course. You guys had all come out during late afternoon, Sasha and Connie started tossing water balloons and teams formed accordingly.

At some point you'd run off to what you thought was a safe zone only to find Armin perched in the bushes. Contemplation etched into his soft features.

"Move slowly ok." You encourage. You were surprised by how big he was sure but the warning was more so this could last for a while.

He nodded where you were still holding the back of his head. His nails cautiously unlatching from the tree moving instead to sink into the fat of your hips while at the same time his once snugly nestled cock began to move. The sweet drag forcing your toes to curl and your eyes to shut. A small exhale cresting off your lips.

A breathy moan fell from his trembling lips as he pulls you in closer. Wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing around you like a lifeline.

You'd met Armin only two years ago through Jean and continued to crush on him for the entirety of those two years. Until today when he'd admitted to you that he was a little ashamed of being a virgin while consistently having to listen to Eren, Connie and Jean's conquests.

You told him they were probably lying about at least half of those stories but it only got you a small smile. So you decided to do him one better and offer to take his virginity.

It wasn't selfish. It was a win win. He would receive a conquest story to tell and you would get what you'd been craving since you'd first seen him in Jean's apartment shirtless and trying to help fix the messed up drain.

"Feels good?" You chuckle huskily

"Oh my God.." He huffs into your skin. 

His hips worked themselves up a little faster. A slightly clumsy pace forming but he was new at this so you weren't mad.

"Armin slow down baby, I don't want you to get ahead of yourself."

"I-i'm sorry.. j-ust feels amazing.."

One of his hands hesitantly snaked up your shirt. Skittish in the way he palmed at your breast. Though he quickly eased up when you replied to the affection with a little mewl.  

It felt surprisingly amazing for you as well. Considering the situation and the fact that Armin had never done this with anyone. This really was his first time.. What a weird thing to tell people. My first time was at a water balloon fight against a tree.

You hummed when the pleasure started to sit in your stomach. Legs trembling a bit as he pumped inside you a little faster. Any other time you would've just thrown your head back and relaxed, especially since his dick was so perfectly filling right now but-

"Armin, slow down." Your breathing was a little raspy.

He replied with a whimpery moan, thighs shaking against your sides. You reached an arm around grabbing his hips with your hand to slow them. It seemed to catch his attention because those soft doe eyes were wide.

"You'll get to cum baby I promise you, ease up a bit it's not a race." He nodded in affirmation and you smiled warmly.

Silk strands warm under your guided fingers as he pulled all the way out and slowly eased back in. A collective united moan exiting both your mouths. You'd shut your eyes but they worked themselves back open at the almost unnoticeable twitch of his cock head.

Your favorite part.

"Mm baby so close.." You whisper, your lip coming to tuck itself under your teeth.

A small chorus of yes's and little gasps fall from his open mouth. His skin somehow easing out of tomato red and into surface of the sun red.

You pull him close making sure his eyes were open. "I need you to cum for me ok? But make sure no one hears you." You say, and fuck is it gorgeous watching him come undone. Just like you'd imagined so many times before.

The tears once welling in his eyes spilled over like a faucet. Choked moans and harsh gasps worked their way off his lips. One of his hands flew back up to the tree where his nails soon dug the bark clean off. His hips stuttering through his entire orgasm. You were almost worried when his climax ended. The way he went silent except for his wild breathing.

"Armin?"

"Fuck.." He sighed

You couldn't help but giggle. "How was your first time?"

He gasps and rolls his eyes still stuck in euphoria. When he pulls out you take the opportunity to turn around. Working your panties up over your hips and pulling your fluttery skirt back down.

"Please, please let me do that again sometime.." He huffs finally managing words. You bring his lips to yours in a chaste kiss that honestly doesn't last long enough for you.

"Only if you promise to stay my good boy." You reply pulling his shorts up till they rest comfortably on his hips.

"I promise." He remarks, almost too eager. "Oh! Wait you didn't get to c-"

"Hey, where did you guys go?" Armin practically separates from his skin as Connie and Jean round the corner. Water guns tucked in their grasp.

"When did you guys get those?" You asked nonchalantly.

Jean shrugged, "We made the game more interesting."

Connie shook his head running back around the corner as Sasha's battle cry sounded.

"Hurry and get back we need you out there Armin." And with that Jean was gone too.

You picked up Armin's discarded water balloon, placing it in his open palm. "See you out there, lover boy."

☆☆Showing Armin how to do Yoga☆☆

"Why's Armin coming over here so early again?" Sasha asked rolling over onto her side. The bag of cotton candy once perched on her thighs flopping over and nearly spilling its contents.

"To do Yoga!" You replied with a laugh sitting the bag upright next to her.

She groaned dramatically. "But it's six thirty am on a Saturday."

"No one told you to get up with me." You remark, pushing the coffee table to the edge of the room.

She holds her once displaced bag up for you to see. "It was calling out to me." She sighs, hugging it to her chest.

A knock on the door takes your concentration. As you pull it open you call back to her, "Well since you're up, you might as well join us."

"Nope!" She quickly scurries away with a wave of her hand. Cotton candy stuffed under her arm.

You shut the door behind Armin as he stares down the hall that Sasha had disappeared down. Your grin is bright almost devilish as it slowly spreads across your face.

"Seems like it's just the two of us." You mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

You watch as he thickly gulps with a nod. Bite able Adam's apple bouncing but you pretend you don't notice. Your mat is already laid out on the floor but you can't stop yourself from bending over to smooth out the corners. Barely paying attention to Armin until you hear a small cough or maybe him choking it's not very clear.

He's holding his mat in his arms defensively across his chest. Silk strands of blond hair fluttering when he blinks. His cheeks a beautifully vibrant pink.

"I-I wanted to th-thank you.." He says, blue eyes trained where they stared at your mat. "For.. the- um.." He gestures and you can't help but giggle.

"The sex?"

Now his eyes find you. Blown wide as his pink lips part over a word that never succeeds in leaving his mouth. Your feet pat over the floor as you close the distance between the two of you. His cheeks warm under your delicate grasp and you hold his face almost as though you're sure he'll shatter.

"You're so cute, please never change."

You're almost scared it sounds condescending but the soft rosy color trudging up to the tips of Armin's ears says he doesn't agree.

You turn back to your mat with a smile but just before you sit on it you add, "And you never have to thank me for sex, I'd do it with you anytime."

He nods once as if responding to you and then twice as if he's confirming that you did indeed say what he heard. The soft plap of his mat on the floor reminding you of what you were both here for.

"Ok, let's begin then." You take a deep breath, adjusting the scrunchie holding your hair in place. "First we wanna stretch alright, so I just need you to reach up above your head with both hands and reposition your feet."

You demonstrate using yourself and Armin awkwardly copies. Slender fingers curling towards the sky as he slowly relaxes his shoulders. You can't help but let your mind wander a little as a glint of light flickers off the steel rings decorating three of his gorgeous digits.

You had fingered yourself last time the two of you were together and now you were craving him. Wondering what the warmth of just one of those inside you would feel like.

"Spread your legs more." You encourage, meanwhile it nearly has Armin doubling back. "Dirty boy." You tease

You stand in front of him gently kicking his legs apart. Easy enough. And he responds to every bit of your touch like he craved you too.

And well you wanna tell yourself that you had actually had completely innocent intentions when you'd invited Armin over here today. He genuinely had never done Yoga before and you knew Sasha was gonna be here. So yeah, you'd love to say you wanted nothing but to relax Armin in this encounter.

But you couldn't even keep a straight face while thinking it.

"Can you bend your knees a little?" He squats, carefully coming back up. Arms reaching out on both sides as you coaxed him. "A little lower sweetie." You say as his ass hovers inches over the mat.

And oh to be the mat.

You step back until you're completely back on your mat. "I'm sure your arms are tired, you can put them down now." You wave him off and he lets out a smooth exhale. "Feel relaxed yet?"

"A little." He replies with a confident smile.

"Then you're ready for the next part." You clap "I need you to bend over and touch your toes alright."

He shuts his eyes, pretty lips parting over your choice of words. What you wouldn’t give right at this second to be a mind reader. His back arches, ankles locking together as you demonstrated. "Good, good boy. Back straight." You sink your thumb into his black athletic shirt to touch his spine. And he hardens with your touch. "Don't be shy, it's just me." You mutter, breath heavy.

Fuck! Touching his back muscles this up close and personal made you wanna sink your nails into them. Leave lines up and down his soft supple skin as a mark that you'd always be his first. No one else would ever get that privilege. 

"I-I.."

Shit.

"Ok, you can stand."

You pretend not to notice the way he shifts his sweats as he stands. This time you vow to actually stay on your mat.

"You should know this position." Your legs spread on one end of the mat while your hands came down to lay flat near the opposite end. "Try it."

Carefully he gets into the position you're currently doing but not without peaking at your figure. His blond hair dipping towards the mat and you can't help but smile at how cute he looks.

"Now we're gonna slowly curve our bodies down until our pelvis touches the floor." You say, head curving up toward the ceiling. For once Armin has immediate trouble, hips dangling weirdly over the ground. His arms trying and failing to steady himself.

"What's the matter? Wanna try a different position?"

"N-no it's nothing.."

You plop down on your mat, crossing your legs and gesturing for him to do the same and even without his reluctance you already know what's wrong. He slowly but surely rotates his hips, spreading his legs. His hardened dick print on full display.

You don't even try to hide the slow slither of your tongue wetting your lips. You quickly turn your head before crawling your way over to a very very flushed Armin. Sweat glistening perfectly over his pale skin.

"W-wait Sasha!" He panics, his arms flailing a bit as he backs up slightly.

"Shh it's ok, she definitely fell back asleep the second she went back in her room." You reply crawling towards him again.

"But you know I c-can't keep q-uiet. Wh-what if she h-hears!"

Your hands inched past his now loosened sweats to gently squeeze his hardened cock through his boxers. Both his hands flew to his mouth giving you a new gorgeous view of those pretty rings.

His eyes roll unfocused with every sweet glide of your hand. Tears already starting to brim along the edges of his warm eyes.

“Do you always wear those rings for physical activities or is it just for me?” 

“I-I just forgot to take them off..” 

“Did you?” You can tell your smile is shitty. Just from the way his eyes dart away from yours "You've never been blown either have you?" You ask getting back on topic.

"N-no." It's a muffled response but it hits your ears loud and clear.

"Another story for the growing journal then." You tease

You honestly can't help yourself. Lips curving and confining his tip like a vise. Precum salty where it stains your tongue. His gasp bouncing off the wall so elegantly. So fucking perfect. But even though Sasha is a heavy sleeper you were still worried she'd wake up before you finished.

So as much as you wanted to tease.

"Can I pull these down baby? I know your dick wants some relief."

He complies, oddly quickly. And you pull his sweats and boxers down just enough to hug the tops of his thighs. 

And his dick is gorgeous. You hadn't actually seen it before but fuck was it pretty, standing tall and leaking before you.

You inch forward spit dribbling from your lips to be collected in the hand that was working his slender shaft. It had Armin's hips bucking up to greet you. His sweet whines egging you on.

And slowly but surely.... "Oh my fucking god."

It was an adjustment. Not as smooth as you would've liked because of the weird angle but you'd taken a little more than half of his dick in your mouth. A mildly painful fit made up for by the angelic cries of Armin just above you.

"Pl-please.. oh God please.."

He couldn't tell what he wanted to hold, hands shifting to the top of your head, the floor and his rolled up sweats all in less than a minute. You swore you could hear his heartbeat through his chest every time you swallowed his cock again.

You wanted to speed ahead so bad, see him just as flustered as he had been last week when he had his cock buried deep inside your pussy but it was obvious he wasn't going to last long either way.

Disorganized syllables flooding off his lips with the occasional whimper of "thank you" and "yes". His throat heavy with every curse word he knew stuck in it. Breaths quick and uneven as you coaxed him down your throat. Vibrations coursing past your lips to meet his already sensitive sex.

"I-i'm.. gonna cum.. mmm soooo close! Gonna cum!"

His choked breaths fell over your forehead and in the next second he was emptying every bit of his stress into your mouth. Eyes clouded like Armin wasn't even in there anymore. And you drained him of every drop, reaching between his legs to squeeze his balls.

When you pulled off of him he let out a deep exhale. Body still shaking as he looked at you.

"Thank you so much." He grinned hazily

"God, I wanna be as many of your firsts as possible." You breathe out a laugh.

☆☆The one where Eren walks in☆☆

It wasn't often you came back to the same guy. Every now and then you had one night stands and that's all it ended up being. You'd always been fine with that.

But Armin made you stay. His shaky fingers, nervous tongue and tear stained cheeks so oddly addictive. Intoxicating in how innocent he stayed despite having two sexual encounters with you.

And now here you both were having your third in his bed. Bodies melded together in the heat of both your sweat. Eyes fixated on only each other as his head tilted up like a hungry baby bird to pull you back in every time you fled.

And you indulged him as much as possible because fuck he was the cutest thing. Your hands gliding over his back and up to his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. Spine curving deliciously when he grazed over your g-spot.

"Armin.. there." You breathed

Your free hand slid between your bodies making space for those slender fingers to work over your clit.

"Flick it." You encouraged, he immediately did as he was told earning a moan of approval.

"Good boy." You hum, lip trembling where it curves under your teeth.

The once soft pink of his face deepened with the compliment. A little smile decorating his gorgeous features. Just another thing to add to your growing folder of mental images.

"There honey.. keep going." You cooed over the little whimper fluttering off his lips as you hugged his cock. "You remember that spot right? The one that you hit when we were outside?"

"Yeah.. I think it was.." His hips remained delicate as he slid right into place. One leg up as he slotted his cock inside you. Heat pooled in the lowest depths of your stomach with the hesitant prodding of his tip to your g-spot. Eyes curving up to yours for further instruction.

"Mmhm that's it.. hit it a little harder ok."

It was all sorts of clumsy but he rammed your g-spot full force. An apology made its way to his throat but eye contact and the choked gasp that left your mouth soon proved it wasn't needed. You spread your legs a little further for him and he grabbed your waist smoothly working your hips over his dick.

"You're doing so well." You giggled taking a hold of his face. "And you're holding out much longer this time."

"Y-yeah but I'm almost there.." He sighed, fingers working at your clit a little faster. Right in time with the faster tempo of his hips.

"Fuck, you feel soooo good." He drawls

His lips parted, eyes flying north. You hugged him a little tighter as his chest pushed you up and down with each thrust. The once gentle drag of your nails now much rougher. As you let it slip just how much you were enjoying this.

Let your mouth fall open for the words circling your brain. Stomach heavy as Armin fucked you with intention. You brushed beads of sweat back from his face. His hair going up with it, clumping together atop his head.

"Mm gonna cum.." He moaned, head lolling with the intensity of his full body tremor.

"Hey Armin-"

"Eren!" Armin nearly shot up as Eren pushed the door open with zero warning.

Armin's free hand stayed on your clit completely stagnant. Tip twitching inside you, he didn't even have time to cover his mouth. Moans and whimpers pouring out from his still parted lips. Every bit of your fifteen minute effort now seen and heard by Eren who stood in the doorway with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey Eren.." You greeted, pulling your hand away from your upturned lips. Meanwhile Armin's face is buried deep in your shoulder blade. Where you already assumed he'd be staying for the next hour.

"Uh huh.." Eren replied, slamming the door shut. "Mikasa, he's busy let's go!" You heard him call as his boots clicked down the hall.

You don’t say a word till you hear the front door open and close, “You ok?” 

“Any chance Eren didn’t hear that?..” He whispered 

“Not in hell or on Earth love.” 

‘Then no..” 

[yyxgin]

the storm's fury ;; chwe vernon

pairing: chwe vernon x fem! janna! reader genre: league of legends lore au, janna! au | fantasy, angst wc: 2.6k (2.698) warnings: mentions of a suicide attempt, near-death experiences a/n: this is basically just the re-telling of the janna lore, hardly any new plot ideas went into this :)

Some say you are a myth. An optimistic fairy tale for children and naive adults to tell themselves when they feel the least hopeful. Others– the ones who saw you with their own eyes, ocean-blue and glorious, the ones who think of you when the wind whistles through narrow corridors or when it swirls leaves around into a little tunnel– know better.

He stands at the edge of the cliff, figure tall above the sea as he watches the crowd get bigger and bigger, middle-aged men, presumably the investors, looking around the shore with proud looks on their faces. Today is a big day for his country, a big move in the history, even, as one of the biggest plans of the whole island was going to get executed and set to motion.

He’s alone at the top of the cliff. Most people are standing around at the bottom, closer to the isthmus, excited to see the big show. Calmly sitting at the rock decorating the very top of the land, he reminisces over the way his land always has been up until now. This is where he was born, this is where he grew up in, this is the way he’ll always remember his home to be; with tall cliffs hovering over the ocean, thin stripes of land standing tall in mids of the deep water, scattered with ports and other important facilities to his town. His home is silent and calm, stuck in the motion. 

Nothing much happens in these waters. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why he used to despise his life here so much before. Wandering the streets of the little town, he never really had much space to grow, much space to explore anything or get to know new facts and wonders of the world. His life here was stable, and even though he’s thankful for it now, he once used to hate it with burning passion so big he tried to end it in these waters. 

He was born near the seas and he set his mind on dying in them as well. He would’ve been successful, if it wasn’t for the sky-blue spirit helping him battle his pain, keeping him alive as she carried him towards the shore, singing a low melody that settled in his heart and never once dared to escape. He saw the spirit around a few times, as if she was watching him from afar, making sure he’s not taking anything for granted now, glimmering in the sunlight or in the orange hues of the sunset that he watches almost every evening ever since. They say you can never see a sunset more beautiful than when it sets down over the horizon of the sea. Chwe Vernon wouldn’t disagree in the slightest.

It’s been years since he saw you for the first time, the lively, calm spirit. He heard about you a lot when he was little. He heard about the twinkle in the sun and about the comforting soul that flies over the waters, helping ships to get to the shore, singing as the fishermen threw their catches back to the sea, letting the little creatures swim away again. He heard about the spirit that helps and never once ignores your prayers. 

Over the years, though, when the big revolution started and the businessmen were more set on building the waterway in the town, you disappeared out of their minds, escaped away. It’s almost like you lost all your power, weakening as you haven’t heard them call your name in so long. Sometimes, Chwe Vernon thinks he’s the only one that remembers you. 

He wouldn’t forgive himself if he forgot. He owes you his life, after all. He searches for your face in every sunset, in every glimmer of the sun that shines down into the waves, in every sound of the water splashing over the cliff he walks up to every single day. It’s hard to find you, but he believes you live in every small miracle hanging around him on ordinary days. 

He wonders if you’ll disappear completely when the isthmus is gone. When he was younger, he so desperately wanted something to happen. He was waiting for a spark of excitement, something new he could occupy his mind with on the boring walks down the town, when he was coming back from Sunday school. And for a long time, nothing came, nothing happened, nothing seemed to change in his hometown.

As time progressed and the investors found treasure in the fine craft of fishing, they began to learn the art of trading. Trade was important for a city like theirs, where there weren’t many potatoes or other vegetables available, due to the soil seeping all and throughout with salt from the ocean. They quickly learned that trading their fish for other important necessities was the way to grow. 

Sending their ships and sailors all the way around the island, just to get to other ports and other crevices of the sea, wasn’t easy at all. It often took weeks, hell, months for them to get back, and the trade wasn’t as quick and easy as the crowd would prefer. 

Investors found a way to grow, though– there was no use in the tiny strip of land in the middle of the island. Getting from one end to the other by walking would take a lot more time than getting there by a boat, over the sea, and the canal that would be created if the land wasn’t there would make the trade easier and faster. And there was the plan: the isthmus had to go.

Hiring scientists from all the way around the world, there was finally a solution to this problem. Investing into the new branch of science - chemistry, was how the water canal was going to be made. Putting chemical bombs all the way along the land, making it disappear under the waters, was how trading was immidiately going to be less difficult for sailors all the way accross the world.

Chwe Vernon finds himself watching the whole plan act out in front of his eyes. He so desperately wanted something exciting to happen, something that would be a step forward, but to see his hometown getting destroyed wasn’t what his heart was eager to experience. 

Everyone’s faces shine with pride and joy as they watch the whole thing unravel, the chemists walking around with bright grins on their faces as they explain the plan one more time. Today was the day where the explosions will go off, the day where both the future and the history of the town will be changed forever. Vernon doesn’t find it in him to be excited. 

Sitting alone at the top of the cliff, mourning all the houses that had to be evicted so the canal could be made, he prays to the spirit of the wind that once saved his life. He finds comfort in the way his hair is swept away by the subtle breeze, as if his heart was content with the slightest sign of you still present in his life. Looking over the horizon, seeing people standing in a safe distance from the land that’s about to be demolished, he shivers from the cold and braces for the impact.

The devices activate. There’s a wave of chemical fog that makes magma and molten rock shoot towards the sky, booms echoing through the crowd. 

Vernon finds the land beneath him crack. The ground begins to shake, and his eyes soon see the shore beneath him get cut through with a roar of water followed by a mean hissing of gas, tearing through everything it can reach. 

This is when the screaming starts.

Metres upon metres of the island start to crack and disappear under the ocean, tons of people finding themselves to be swept away by the freezing waves of both the eastern and the western seas. Unprepared for such a disaster, there’s nothing much a person can do, but to battle for their life in the dangerous depths of the ocean. The isthmus disappears out of sight, yet, the booms don’t stop, the greedy hissing of the chemicals burning the gravel in front of it making the land shake with an unexpected earthquake as more and more of the island starts to break and fall into the water.

Even cliffs, standing high above everything, aren’t strong enough to hold the strength of it all. Chwe Vernon soon finds himself falling to the dangerous ocean, chunks of dirt swinging off with his feet as he meets the western sea, his body stiffening in the water.

It’s a feeling that brings him back to a moment he lived through a few years ago, his body hitting the waves, flowing away in the ocean. It’s making him live through some sort of a sick and twisted déja vu, when his limbs get frozen and he doesn’t find the strength in him to swim above the water, his lungs suffocating with the waves of the salty sea visiting his insides with every unconscious breath he takes underwater. He’s lived through this once before, and to think that he did it so willingly back then, throwing himself off the same cliff, into the same sea, when he was much younger and less wise than he is today, makes him sick to his stomach as his eyes flash with countless memories. 

Is this the end? Will he be taken away from this earth? There’s no decision of his that could have led him this way, there’s nothing he could do to prevent this. Something about the end of his life not being in his control makes him shake in an undeniable sorrow. 

It’s not fair. Nothing about this whole situation was fair. He tried to die once, only to be reborn again. He saw his life flash in front of his eyes only for him to be swept away with the wind, carefully laid on the sand at the very bottom of the cliff. He almost threw all of this away, only to be left with his eyes wide open, appreciating his life more than ever before.

You never know what you have before it gets taken away. He almost lost everything that day, and today, it’s as if he is watching a rerun of his worst nightmare.

He’s too young to die. He’s too eager to live to die. 

His mind travels back to your spirit, to the sky-blue shade singing in his ear as you took his body off the deep ends and flew with him back to the shore, where he belongs. He so desperately prays and prays for your arrival, even though everyone else seemingly forgot about you, hoping that the strength of his thoughts is big enough to make you come back and save him again.

His body battling with the water, he almost feels like he’s about to collapse. His limbs give out, his physical state not strong enough to match the lust for life he has on the inside. 

“Please,” his lips move, unconscious words falling from his mouth, “please save me. Please make this stop.”

Suddenly, everyone’s eyes open again; for they were blinded by the greed for riches and evolution, too blind to be careful not to lose everything with the impact of their change. They forgot about you, but once they’re at their weakest, they again, can remember the spirit of the winds that makes sure the sailors are always safe, the spirit that hears everyone’s prayers, no matter how weak they are. 

Thousands and thousands of calls for your name are heard across the ocean, and somehow, there you were– faintly glimmering in the deep ends with an ethereal look on your face. Vernon finds himself trying to swim towards you, his insides crying for your touch, to once again feel the safety of your arms carrying him to the silent lands, but as your eyes meet his, the moment is gone. As if summoned by the voices of millions, you suddenly rise with power, stronger than ever before.

Disappearing into the steaming gas, the acid gas overwhelming all helpless victims around, you hold your staff high. The ocean-blue stick ended with a beam of blinding light shines through the darkness of the waters as you close your eyes and point it towards the sky. Concentrating all your power into this motion, wind swirls around you, the vortex so strong it could swallow you whole and rip you to pieces. The staff glows brighter and brighter blue until you slam it down, blowing the gas and the water away in one burst of air, leaving the helpless people swallowing the oxygen as the seas uncover them and back away. 

Silence overtakes the whole place, so loud it makes your ears ring. Vernon finds himself gasping for air, his lungs filled with water, collapsing to the ground. Whispering your name, he holds out a hand towards you, making your body fly his way and once again hold him in your arms, lullying him to safety.

Flying away with his body limb in your hold, the sight of it would be familiar to anyone watching you two years ago. You lay him into the soft sand, humming the same melody into his ear until his soul finally calms down and his heartbeat gets to a steady rhythm, his breathing lighter now, finally relaxing from the battle for his life. 

Opening his eyes, he finds himself overwhelmed with fondness. Your sky-blue eyes shine with luminosity, brighter than anything he’s ever seen. Licking his chapped lips, being at loss for words, he finds it hard to express his gratitude. 

Your feathery-light hand softly grazes his left cheek as his eyes water, your fingertips lightly wiping away the stray tears that escape his orbs. Not a word is shared between the two of you as you hum the calming melody into his ear until he completely relaxes in your hold. 

This is the second time you’ve saved Chwe Vernon’s life. Only god knows you’d do it over and over again, without him even recognising your name anymore, without his calling, without a single prayer uttered out of his mouth. Unknown to him, you’re always by his side.

In the shuffling of the clean laundry hung outside, met by the wind. In the bird flying through the cloudy sky. In the autumn leaf that falls into his air, greeting the new season with him. You’re everywhere around him, your spirit always lingering with him, keeping him safe and sound.

Opening his mouth to utter something to you, you shush him with a faint smile. Hesitant to move, he watches you as you slowly lean away from him, your hair always blowing in a subtle freeze, and when you’re finally a few feet away from him, there’s a gust of wind flowing through the streets. And with that, you’re gone.

In the years to come, no one really knows the exact reason for the disaster. Some say it was the instability of the chemical bombs, some say it was a miscalculation of the hired engineers. Most of the city was demolished, swept away under the sea, the tunnel now twice as big as it was supposed to be, heaving with silence and fear of the things they’ve lost under.

They continue to live, though. Life goes on, although everyone’s more cautious now, putting more weight onto their own life. Grateful for every single day, it almost feels like there’s a rise of a new community.

Some say you are a myth. An optimistic fairy tale for children and naive adults to tell themselves when they feel the least hopeful. Others– the ones who saw you with their own eyes, ocean-blue and glorious, the ones who think of you when the wind whistles through narrow corridors or when it swirls leaves around into a little tunnel– know better. You’re surely there, somewhere in the air.

Only Chwe Vernon is completely sure of your existence, though. He’s the only one without a single ounce of doubt, the only one not being hesitant to believe what they saw with their own eyes that hopeless day. He can’t help but feel his spirit lift when there’s a curious blue bird swooping through the streets, sitting on the tip of his outstretched finger, singing soundly to him, much like the time when you carried him across the waters. 

It’s nice to have someone watching over him. 

It’s nice for that someone to be you.

[wren-of-the-woods]

#20 Saving their life for Yennskier or Geraskefer, please! Have fun on your trip!

Thank you so much for the prompt! This turned out about twice as long as I meant it to, but it's finally done and now I have 4k of Yennskier-centric Geraskefer, featuring cuddling for warmth!

Also on AO3!

~~~

Yennefer is wandering the Blue Mountains and, quite frankly, having a wonderful day. 

She, Geralt, and Jaskier are enjoying the chance to leave Kaer Morhen, taking advantage of a rare sunny day to search for good places where Ciri can practice the more explosive varieties of magic. They left the keep that morning, and now the afternoon is drawing to a close.They have found several promising-looking locations so far, but, more importantly, Yennefer has enjoyed herself immensely. 

Jaskier is almost back to his usual cheer, talking and laughing incessantly, and Geralt smiles when Jaskier makes a joke or does something stupid. The sky is blue. The snow glitters beautifully in the afternoon sun. The breeze, which has been picking up slowly all day, is pleasant. Even the stones seem more interesting than usual. It is a break that all three of them very much needed.

They come to a fork in the small trail they’ve been following. One path curves around the edge of a bit of mountain that’s steeper than the rest, and the other winds its way up said mountain beside a small but loud creek. 

“I’ll see if there’s anything interesting up there,” says Geralt. “You two keep going. I’ll catch up.”

“If you wanted some peace and quiet, you could have said so,” says Jaskier with a laugh. 

“Would you have listened, though?” Yennefer asks, smirking. 

“Good point. Probably not.”

Yennefer and Geralt share a laugh, and they go their separate ways. 

The view along this path is beautiful; the jagged peaks of the other mountains around them are cast in dramatic light and shadow as the afternoon goes on, making the snow gleam like a jewel. She can’t help but notice the way Jaskier’s hair catches the light, seeming almost gold where it shines. She smiles to herself. Geralt is missing out.

This, of course, is when the mountain collapses.

The only warning they have is a cracking sound and some deep, ominous rumbling before a thundering torrent of snow envelops them and sends them tumbling off their feet. Yennefer finds herself on her back, her vision alternating between being filled by the blue sky and completely obscured by snow. She hears Jaskier cry out somewhere nearby and tries to grab hold of him, but she can’t find him. Soon, all her attention is taken up by trying to use her chaos to avoid being drowned in the fucking avalanche that Destiny has seen fit to throw her into. 

Eventually, after what could have been hours or minutes, the snow finally comes to a stop. Yennefer digs herself out of the snow with surprisingly little difficulty and gets to her feet. She looks around. She is far enough down the mountain that she no longer knows where the path is, surrounded by a mess of snow that obscures any landmarks that might have been there. There is no sign of the bard.

“Jaskier!” she shouts. Her voice seems to disappear into the expanse of wilderness, fading far too quickly for her liking. “Jaskier!”

She holds still and listens. There is no sound but the faint hissing of the wind, whipping her dress around her legs. Her heartbeat is loud in her ears. She tries very hard not to panic. 

“Yennefer!” called a faint, blessedly familiar voice. 

“Jaskier!” She doesn’t bother to hide the relief in her voice. “Where are you?” 

“I— I think I’m under a tree!”

Yennefer squints in the direction of Jaskier’s voice. There are several fallen trees strewn across the mountainside. 

“Which one?” she shouts. 

“How the fuck should I know? I’m underneath it!”

“What kind of tree?” 

“I don’t know! It has needles!” 

“All the trees have needles!”

“I know!”

“Nevermind. Just keep talking!” Yennefer starts to wade through the snow towards the first of the many trees in the direction of Jaskier’s voice.

“As delighted as I am to be asked to do that,” Jaskier shouts back, “I’m not sure I can sustain this amount of yelling. I’m rather squished!”

“Well, shout when I tell you to!”

“Got it!”

Jaskier falls silent. Yennefer tries to ignore the way the absence of his voice makes her nervous. Jaskier is fine.

She reaches the fallen tree closest to her. Jaskier is not there. It takes four more trees and a few more shouts from Jaskier before, to her great relief, she finally finds him. 

He is, indeed, under a tree. It is laying mostly across his legs, but its broken and snowy branches cover much of the left half of his torso and his left hand seems to be pinned somewhere beneath it. His face is scratched and a little dirty and his hair is rather wet. Now that Yennefer can see him, she sees the pain on his face that he kept hidden when speaking. He obviously did not make it through the avalanche as unscathed as Yennefer. 

“So,” says Jaskier, managing a smile, “I’m guessing this is not the place for Ciri to practice exploding things.”

That startles a laugh out of Yennefer. “No, probably not.” She sees Jaskier shift a little and grimace in pain, and the humor leaves her as quickly as it came. “How badly are you injured?”

“Well, the tree is mostly on the snow, not me. And I’m not bleeding. But something definitely hurts down there” — Jaskier uses his free hand to gesture at the half of him that is covered by the tree — “And I’m not sure how bad it is.”

He’s shivering, Yennefer notices with no small amount of alarm. It’s a wonder his teeth aren’t chattering. 

“How much does it hurt?”

“It’s not aftermath-of-torture bad, but it is not pleasant. I would very much like to get out from under this tree, please.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Yennefer’s magic has returned, but she’s still adjusting to it, settling back into it like a dress she hasn’t worn in years. Most of the time it works normally, more or less, but every now and then it’ll catch or snap in odd ways and not do what she told it to. She’ll have to be careful — she can’t risk hurting Jaskier now. 

She closes her eyes and focuses. She feels around the edges of her chaos. She takes a deep breath, gathers herself, and mutters a spell to move the tree. 

Jaskier cries out in pain. 

Yennefer stops immediately. Jaskier groans. 

“What happened?” Yennefer asks, opening her eyes.

“It moved sideways,” Jaskier pants. The tree has shifted somewhat, and Jaskier’s clothes are noticeably more torn than they were a moment ago. His eyes are squeezed shut and his face is pale. 

“Shit. Sorry.” 

“Thank you. Don’t do it again.”

“I don’t know if I can move it without doing that again.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Can you portal us out of here?”

“Not if you can’t walk through the portal.”

“Fuck.”

Yennefer falls silent. After a moment, Jaskier opens his eyes to glare at her. 

“What now? Are you just going to stand there while I freeze?”

“I’m trying to think of a way out of this!”

“Can’t you vanish the tree or something?”

Yennefer raises an eyebrow at him. “And what if I miss and injure you?”

“Can you melt the snow?” 

“Same problem. I might burn you. Or drown you in melted snow.”

“I will admit that sounds unpleasant.”

There’s another moment of silence. 

“So, do I just have to stay here until the tree magically decides to go away?”

“Geralt is… somewhere around here. I don’t think he would have been caught in the avalanche. If we can’t think of anything, he’ll find us eventually.”

"Right. So we’re waiting here to be rescued?"

“Unless you have a better idea?”

“You’re the magic expert. I don’t know how this works.”

“Well then, we wait until we can think of something.”

“Great. No worries. I’m having so much fun here, stuck under a fucking tree in the snow.”

Yennefer kicks him (very, very gently) in the shoulder. Jaskier hisses at her like an irritated kitten. 

“Look on the bright side. At least you aren’t alone.”

“Yes, your presence is such a comfort right now.”

Yennefer ignores his sarcasm. “I’m glad to be of help.”

She blithely ignores his glare, sits down beside him, and settles down to wait. 

They talk to pass the time. At first, Jaskier rambles while Yennefer listens and occasionally chimes in. Then, later, as Jaskier grows more tired and cold and generally unhappy, Yennefer begins to say more. 

She tells him whatever comes to mind, everything from innocuous stories about her Aretuza days to tales she heard at court. Jaskier listens, obviously fascinated. He asks questions and makes comments. It’s more pleasant than she expected, telling stories like this to a willing audience and helping distract Jaskier from his pain. She wonders if this is what Jaskier sees in being a bard. 

They sit there for a long while. Yennefer tries not to note the passage of time, but she finds herself keeping an eye on the sun’s movement despite herself. Geralt has not come yet, but he will. She has to believe that. 

After a time, the wind picks up. Clouds come with it, and the sky begins to turn gray. Snow starts to fall, gentle and unhurried. It would be beautiful under any other circumstances. Now, all Yennefer feels is dread. 

She carefully casts a shield to keep the snow from falling on them and block out the worst of the wind. She keeps talking to Jaskier. They will be fine. She will have enough energy to maintain the spell, the snow will not keep Geralt from finding them, and everything will be all right. 

The snow keeps falling. 

“I could try to move the tree again,” says Yennefer. 

“Please don’t,” says Jaskier. The way his voice shakes a little at the thought is more than enough to dissuade Yennefer from the idea. 

Although, if Geralt can’t find them in the snow, she may not have another choice. 

“I might have to try it if things don’t get better soon.”

Jaskier grimaces. “Maybe knock me out or something first, then.”

Yennefer does not like that idea. If she knocks Jaskier out, there’s a faint possibility he might not wake up again. 

“All right,” she finds herself saying anyway. The bard’s sad face should not have such an effect on her. It must be the fatigue. 

The snow keeps falling.

Holding a spell for so long, especially so soon after getting her chaos back, is draining. Even a relatively uncomplicated piece of magic like this one becomes tiring after a while. She can feel her exhaustion slowly growing. 

Time and fatigue begin to take their toll on Jaskier, as well. His speech becomes increasingly rambling and a little slurred, as though he’d been woken up in the middle of the night. Yennefer tries not to be too worried. There's nothing she can do right now, and she needs to hold herself together for both their sakes.

She tries not to look too closely at his face. If she does, she'll see all the pain and exhaustion Jaskier must be feeling, and she might do something she’ll regret. 

It’s not often that Yennefer dislikes her small stature. She knows she’s far more powerful than any broad or brawny man could be, and the brief moment in which her enemies underestimate her because of her size almost always works in her favor. She doesn’t mind being short, and she hasn’t for many decades. 

But now, as she sits beside Jaskier in the snow, she desperately wishes she was large enough to envelop him in her arms and surround him in the warmth he needs so much. She wants to hold him safe and secure and banish that horrifying expression of weary pain on his face forever. She could usually do so with magic, but now there’s little she can do. She's not used to feeling helpless. She finds that she doesn't like it very much.

Jaskier shifts his head to look at her and frowns in faint surprise.

“You’re upset.”

Yennefer barks a laugh. “Yeah.”

Jaskier’s frown deepens. “What’s wrong?” He sounds concerned, and the emotion is so heartwarmingly and heartbreakingly absurd that Yennefer doesn’t know what to say.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she manages eventually. 

Jaskier does not seem convinced. 

“I don’t like it,” he says decidedly. 

“What don’t you like?” asks Yennefer. It’s a good sign that he’s talking. She can keep him talking until help arrives. It’s going to be fine. 

“That you’re upset. I used to like it, but now I don’t. It makes me feel all funny. In a bad way, not a good way. When it’s for real.”

Yennefer swallows. “When what’s for real?”

“The upset. Sometimes it’s a joke, but sometimes it’s not. I don’t like when it’s not.”

“Oh.” Once again, Yennefer finds herself with no idea what to say. Perhaps she should have more sympathy for Geralt, he had been dealing with sort of emotional whiplash for all those years.

Jaskier’s frown is considering now. He stares up at her like she is a puzzle that he’s trying to solve. After a few moments, seeming to have come to a conclusion, he flops his free arm out away from his side. 

“C’mere,” he says. Yennefer, in her exhaustion, can’t work out what he means.

“Is your arm hurt?” she asks. 

Jaskier glares at her. “No. You’re hurt. C’mere.”

“Why?”

“Hug.”

“Oh.”

Well, it isn’t like Yennefer has anything better to do. She knows she can’t keep Jaskier as warm as he deserves, but that doesn’t mean she shouldn’t try. 

“All right,” she says. She gently nudges his arm back onto his torso, then lays down beside him in the snow and wraps her arms around him. She pulls his hand up against her chest to warm it and snuggles close. He really is cold — his hand is icy against her collarbone. She hopes Geralt gets here soon.

Jaskier nuzzles closer, burying his nose in her hair. He’s making some sort of sound, but it’s muffled against her head. It takes Yennefer a moment to realize that he’s humming a lullaby.

“‘S gonna be okay,” he mumbles. “Don’t worry.” His humming grows louder and he presses closer against her.

“Of course it is,” Yennefer manages. Jaskier hums in agreement.

She pulls him closer, closes her eyes, and focuses on keeping her shielding spell up. If his humming helps ground her and his warmth helps encourage her, no one needs to know. 

And if her eyes are a little wet, it’s only because the cold is a little too stinging and Jaskier’s hair is tickling her face. 

It seems like hours that they lie there. Jaskier goes quiet eventually, and every second of silence feels like an eternity. Yennefer holds Jaskier's free wrist in her hand so she can feel his pulse and reassure herself that he is alive. Once upon a time, she hated his incessant chattering. Now she would give anything to hear him sing again.

She considers attempting to move the tree again, now that Jaskier is more or less unaware of his surroundings, but she is so exhausted now that she doesn't trust herself not to drop it again and crush him. She casts a careful warming spell instead — not enough to melt the snow, but enough to keep them from freezing — and tries not to let the feeling of helplessness crush her. She curls up closer around Jaskier, rubs one of his cold hands between her own, and waits.

The snow keeps falling.

Out of the snow emerges a figure.

"Geralt?" Yennefer calls. 

"Yen! Jaskier!" 

"Over here!"

Geralt crouches down at her side, brows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong, Yen?"

"I'm fine,” she says, forcing herself to unwrap herself from where she’s curled around the bard. “It’s Jaskier.”

Geralt hisses a little when he sees Jaskier. Yennefer winces. She looks up at Geralt.

“I can’t lose him,” she whispers. It’s entirely possible that her fear is unfounded, but right now, she can’t bring herself to care.

“Neither can I,” says Geralt. Yennefer can hear the promise in his words.

Together, they pull Jaskier free and lift him out of the snow. 

~~~

When Jaskier wakes, he is very, very warm. This strikes him as odd, since the last thing he remembers is being very, very cold. He also feels somewhat floaty, as though his mind is full of clouds and not on particularly friendly terms with his body. He hears a small, confused noise, then realizes that this noise came from him.

He does not know what is going on. This mystery might be more easily solved if he could figure out how to open his eyes, but that thought doesn’t sound particularly appealing at the moment.

“Jaskier?” someone says, voice echoing from the foggy space beyond his brain. He makes another noise of undetermined meaning. Something touches his arm.

“Jaskier?” the voice says again. It sounds familiar. Jaskier thinks that perhaps he should listen. “Wake up, Jaskier.”

“You’re safe,” says someone else. Oh, a second familiar voice! That’s nice. 

Jaskier shifts a little. He feels sort of heavy, as though something is on top of him. He remembers something being on top of him before. He was not happy about being under something then, but he doesn’t mind so much now. He wonders what the thing is. Driven by this curiosity as much as by the voices, Jaskier gathers his strength and opens his eyes. 

The first thing he sees is two other pairs of eyes looking back at him. One is golden and one is violet. They are both beautiful. 

“Hello,” he croaks. 

“Jaskier,” says Yennefer, relief plain in her voice. The thing touching his arm — her hand, he realizes — moves to cup his cheek. Geralt says nothing, but he takes Jaskier’s hand and squeezes it. 

Jaskier blinks. He looks around at the familiar walls of Geralt’s room in Kaer Morhen, at the two beautiful people pressed close to him, and at the many, many blankets under which he is buried. He looks at Geralt and Yennefer, who seem both relieved and exhausted.

“Do I want to know what happened?” he asks.

“You nearly got yourself killed in a fucking avalanche is what happened!” Yennefer shouts, making Jaskier jump at her sudden shift in mood. 

“Right. Yeah. Okay. I remember that bit.”

“You fucking should.”

“Well, I do.”

“Good.”

“I found the two of you eventually,” interrupts Geralt before they can spiral into a round of bickering. “Once I got you out from under the tree, Yennefer portaled us back to the keep.”

“Oh. Good. Thank you. When was this?”

“A few hours ago. It’s the middle of the night now.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier again. He knows his usual eloquence is suffering right now, but he figures that since he was only recently rescued from an avalanche, he can be excused. 

He shifts a little, trying to see if movement still causes pain, and feels unfamiliar fabric rub against his skin. He looks down at the small part of himself that is not covered in blankets. His eyes widen.

“Why the fuck am I wearing Geralt’s clothes?” 

“Mine wouldn’t have fit you,” says Yennefer, as though it’s obvious.

Jaskier tries to sit up. “Is my coat all right?” 

He liked that coat — it’s one of the few things of his own he still has. If it was ruined by a fucking avalanche, Jaskier will have some choice words for Destiny. 

Geralt gently but firmly pushes Jaskier back to the bed. “Stay.”

“It’s fine, you peacock,” says Yennefer. “It’s drying in the great hall. Coën mended it.”

“Oh,” says Jaskier. “That’s… unexpectedly kind of him. I’ll have to thank him soon.”

Geralt hums. “He’ll probably come up here at some point.”

Jaskier frowns at Geralt. “What, am I not allowed to get up?”

“No.”

“Why not?” 

“Healers’ orders,” says Yennefer.

“You’re not healers.”

“We healed you, didn’t we?” 

“I suppose.”

Geralt nods in agreement. “So no getting out of bed.” 

“Not at all?”

“Nope.”

“Not even to use the privy?”

Yennefer huffs. “We’ll think of something.”

“Why not?”

Geralt glares down at him. “I left you alone after the dragon hunt. You got tortured. I left you alone yesterday. You got trapped in an avalanche. I’m not taking that risk again.”

“I got hurt when I was with you, too!”

“But not when you were with me and Yen.”

“That’s because I’m barely ever with you and Yen!”

“Hmm. We can fix that.”

“I don’t have a say in this, do I?”

“Nope.”

“Fine.”

It shouldn’t be possible to snuggle into blankets angrily, but Jaskier thinks he manages it. Geralt is unperturbed. He curls up behind Jaskier and puts an arm around his waist. Jaskier, feeling slightly squished, tries to shift to a more comfortable position. Geralt holds him tighter. 

“Help,” says Jaskier, giving Yennefer his most pathetically pleading look. “I’m being imprisoned.”

“Serves you right for scaring us like that,” says Yennefer. 

Her tone is flippant, but Jaskier can hear the vulnerability hidden behind her walls. She really had been scared. He suddenly found his imprisonment to be less irritating. 

“Well,” he says, “If I must suffer the cruel fate of cuddle prison, I would appreciate some company.”

Yennefer raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t I be another jailor instead of a cellmate?”

“Also acceptable.”

“As your jailer, I shouldn’t care about whether or not you find things acceptable.”

“Yen,” grumbles Geralt, voice slightly muffled by Jaskier’s hair, “Stop bantering and cuddle our bard.”

Our bard. Jaskier suddenly thinks he might cry.

“Fine,” says Yennefer. 

She lays down against Jaskier’s front, throws an arm across him to rest on Geralt’s shoulder, and pulls one of Jaskier’s hands under her head so she can tangle their fingers together. Geralt rumbles happily and presses closer, resting a hand on Yennefer’s waist. He squishes Jaskier a little more in the process, but Jaskier finds that he no longer minds. Either someone gave him a painkiller at some point, or Yennefer did some excellent magical healing, because he feels warm and safe and sleepy and nothing hurts at all. Geralt’s warm weight is as comforting as Yennefer’s embrace.

He hums happily and closes his eyes. Perhaps staying in bed for an undetermined length of time is a better idea than he’d thought. 

“This is nice,” he says sleepily. Yennefer gently bats him on the arm. 

“It’s more than you deserve after the stunt you pulled today.”

Jaskier huffs a laugh, not bothering to open his eyes. “It’s hardly my fault that the mountain collapsed.”

“I’m sure you were involved somehow.”

“Probably,” Geralt agrees. 

Jaskier opens his eyes. He tries to twist around so Geralt can see the full effect of Jaskier’s best horrified expression, but is stopped by the fact that he is still half-underneath him. 

“Geralt! Don’t turn against me like this!”

“Hmm. You scared me too.”

“Traitor,” Jaskier mutters, but the admission has softened him. He stops trying to squirm out of Geralt’s grasp and settles back into his comfortable position, accepting his enforced coziness as inescapable. 

“Thank you for saving me,” he says quietly. “You do that a lot. I hope you aren’t getting tired of it.”

“You’d better be grateful that we happen to like you,” says Yennefer. “We can’t let anything to our damsel in distress.”

Geralt hums in agreement. “Don’t do it again, though.”

Jaskier laughs a little. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good,” says Geralt.

“Yes,” says Yennefer. “Now shut up so I can sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Anything for my darling wife,” says Jaskier, grinning. 

Yennefer kicks him. It doesn’t do much, since she is gentle and Jaskier is half-buried beneath Geralt, but he gets the idea. 

“All right, fine, I’ll be quiet now.”

“Thank you.”

“Sleep well.”

“Jaskier.”

“Sorry, sorry!”

Geralt rumbles what might have been a growl if he didn’t sound so sleepy. “Stop it. You can bicker tomorrow.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to respond, and Geralt shifts to put nearly all of his weight on Jaskier. Jaskier lets out a strangled-sounding squawk that bears an unfortunate resemblance to a sick rooster. He can feel Yennefer shaking with laughter against him. 

“I surrender!” he squeaks. Geralt moves back to his previous position so Jaskier can breathe. 

“I didn’t know cuddle prison had such strict laws,” he says. “I’ll have to watch my tongue.”

“I’m not sure if you can manage that, but you’ll have to do your best,” says Yennefer. 

“Sleep,” says Geralt, tucking his face against the back of Jaskier’s neck. 

“Goodnight,” Jaskier whispers with a smile. He rests his free hand on Yennefer’s waist, and Geralt covers it with his own. Jaskier closes his eyes. 

He is just about to drift off to sleep when, so softly he almost misses it, Yennefer speaks.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier holds her a little tighter. “So am I.”

Yennefer hums and tucks her head under Jaskier’s chin, resting her ear against his pulse point. Soon, her breathing slows into the steady rhythm of sleep. Jaskier can’t help but smile. He can’t quite bring himself to mind the near-death experience if he gets to experience this as a result. 

There, sandwiched between two of the most beautiful and powerful people on the continent, Jaskier sleeps better than he has in years. 

[tooruluv]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.” 

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

[blzzrdstryr]

By proxy

Platonic yandere!Kaeya & child!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2195

A.N.: My first time writing platonic yanderes, hope you'll enjoy.

It's an impulsive decision for the most part - taking you, that is.

Kaeya trudges through the Wolfendom forest, a couple of his underlings, Addler and Otto, following behind as they trail a group of treasure hoarders. Criminal gang must have known that knights are on their tail, there's no other explanation for their sudden fleeing, leaving an already broken camp behind and taking only the most valuable possessions.

It's raining and he silently curses, even if this will give him advantage in battle, but archons, it's so cold. Huge droplets fall on the ground with a resounding sound, drenching everything and turning the forest landscape deep into nigh impassable terrain. Mud clings to their feet, slowing the group down, as the Sun starts to set. Sky turns all shades of purple and red, dimming light throwing the last rays over the Mondstadt as the darkness settles, yet Kaeya and his group still carry forward through the palisade of tall trees.

“Sir”, Otto carefully starts: “It seems that criminals are already several miles away from us”.

Kaeya nods for the knight to continue, already knowing that it will be an ask to stop - the weather is hellish and the rain is one of the heaviest Kaeya has ever had to experience.

“With how strong this rainfall is, the gang's traces will be gone in under an hour”

"All the more reasons to push on and catch them then", Alberich replies, paying zero attention to Adler's slight trembling or Otto's teeth chattering. The group continues on their path through descending darkness, their footsteps hasting despite the clinging and growing fatigue.

Suddenly, as the knights make their way around the cliff, a slight whimper is heard. It's human enough to stop the group - maybe some unlucky civilian got in the way of the gang, maybe criminals left their injured one. Kaeya just nods to the pair, as Otto and Adler unsheathe their weapons, wordlessly understanding the gesture.

Cavalry captain takes a step into the forest pit with a raised sword, all sight and ears, light blue vision on his belt shining and flickering both in caution and anticipation. He walks slowly and quietly, like a cat, careful not to step on the leaves and twigs lying around, and then he sees you.

You are a child, all thin and small in the way that the sick are. There are dark circles under your tired eyes, and the scrapes all over your body. You look already dead. He runs up to you, as he sees your figure swaying and knees buckling, saving you from the fall. Your skin burns Kaeya as he carries you back to the knights - it must be fever then. You blink at him several times, saying something, but your voice is too small and weak to make out anything among the droplets falling, and then you stop, eyes rolling back and head lolling to the side. You blacked out.

He thinks about handing your body to either of the knights and then continuing to run after the gang into the knight, but then decides against it - heavy rain must have blurred all the footsteps they left. Adler almost fails. You escape your delirium a couple of times, babbling words about forest and rain and wolves, and Kaeya, despite his focus on the trail ahead, can't help but listen to what you say. It's childish nonsense for the most part, an incomprehensible product of the feverish mind, yet sometimes you say meaningful things - I thought I would die, I got scared of wolf howls, The rain was so cold.

Some small part of him shrinks and aches at these words, a long buried hurt resurfacing once again. Kaeya frowns and huffs as he tries to get rid of the images of the days long gone in his mind - rainy night, hunger, pain, cold, he will die here. His lips quirk and a humorless laugh escapes him - the irony is painful.

He drops you off at the church, concerned Barbara taking you to the hospital and Kaeya, after a brief report to Jean, goes home, his mind still stuck on the memories of days long past. You will be fine, he tells himself, the church has good healers and the orphanage is nearby. Once you get better, you’ll get sent there, where devoted nuns will raise to be another disciple.

You had a look of a deadman - a strange catatonic serenity was radiating off of you, as you looked at the captain with a glazed yet piercing eyes, both seeing him and through him. It’s cold, so cold, yet no one is here. There are hot tears on his face, wet tracks burning his skin. His tummy is empty and aching, cold bites at his limbs, but Kaeya patiently waits for the adult to return. Father said that Kaeya was their last hope, so sure he would never leave him to die, right?

Cavalry captain barely sleeps through the night, memories and inner demons eating him from inside. When he does manage to doze off, a vague picture of darkening forests and howling winds wake him up, a fervent chanting buzzing in his head - Where is his father? Where is his father? Where is his father?.

Kaeya comes to you the next day, as his shift ends, legs heading to the towering church at the top on their own. Barbara leads him to your bed, your unconscious form lying limply. Idol explains your health issues to him - fever, malnutrition, inflammation, common cold and slight poisoning. The scratches you had yesterday were healed, Barbara says, but the rest of the problems can't be easily fixed with a bit of a hydro.

"Then, what medicines do they need?", Kaeya asks, understanding the unspoken words. The Church of Favonius, despite the large funding it receives from the city's treasury, still lacks a lot of resources and materials. People are free to come and get cured, without having a single mora to pay, which means that most of the remedies disappear at an alarming rate - be it some herbal balm for aching joints or a simple linen bandage.

The idol rustles in the hidden pockets of her dress, taking out a pencil and sheet of paper and begins to write, the list grows as Kaeya’s eyebrows get higher and higher. There are dried Liyuen herbs, exotic Sumeru fruits, specially treated Snezhnayan and Fontaine tinctures and medicines.

Kaeya is taken aback for a second by the sheer length of the final list - most of the items will have to be ordered and shipped and despite his salary of the captain allowing such expenses, it’s still strange to spend so much mora - a complete stranger. Captain contemplates just leaving you there - nuns will take care of you, but the hurt resurfaces again and he sees another person lying on the small hospital bed - little him, scared and confused.

He ends up buying all the listed things, and despite his efforts not to, continues to regularly check up on you when he has time. Sometimes, Barbara says, you wake up from your slumber, enough to utter some confused noises and questions, but then you drowse off again, both sickness and medicine pulling you back to sleep.

Kaeya, to his displeasure, never catches you conscious in time, until he comes one evening, expecting to spend the time looking at you sleeping again only to see you half sitting on the bed. Your posture gets straight the second you notice him too, an expression of confusion and fear appearing on your face.

"Hello", Kaeya starts, slowly walking up towards you, keeping his posture small and voice as friendly as possible:"I am that knight who carried you here, remember?", he explains, seeing the further abashment on you face.

You nod at him, prompting him to continue:"So, I just decided to visit you to ask you how you got in the forest and why were you alone"

"Sister Barbara said that you came here almost everyday," you reply, voice absolutely flat and face having no expression. Kaeya looks at you briefly - it’s rare for children to speak in such a cold manner, you must have something on your mind then.

"Yes, I did" , he says in the same friendly tone.

"Just to know why I was in the forest?" , your voice betrays you, a hint of hurt seeping into it. Ah, that’s why you asked.

"Hm, of course no! I also wanted to see you get better" , he smiles at the end, leaning a bit closer to you. You mull over his words, thinking of their sincerity, and then a later second you say, with much less caution and guard up:

"Well I am better now and…" you get silent for a good minute:"I don't remember why I was there. I think it's because of the fever". Your voice becomes strangely controlled again - you lie to Kaeya, you didn’t forget anything. A part of cavalry captain swells and purrs, recognizing himself in you,

"Do you want to live with me?". He asks instead of trying to get the truth out of you. Your eyes shine and a surprised noise comes out of your mouth at his suggestion - something between a squeak and high pitched yelp.

His apartment isn't the best place to bring the child in - there are far too many bottles and not enough food - Kaeya lives off the takeout from the Good hunter and the skewers he grills when missions call him to leave the city walls. Nonetheless, you don’t look too disgusted with his living conditions, so he considers it a win, as he heads for the tiny kitchen to make you a soup.

It turns out a bit burnt in the end - Kaeya added too much wood to the stove, but you still gulp it down, not leaving anything and thank him for the meal. He makes a mental note to buy you a bed - right now you’re sleeping on a small couch, and clothes to change.

You are a quiet child, too fast to apologize for the smallest mistakes and wary of him when he’s in a foul mood - it gives Kaeya an idea why you were in the woods. Your days together flow slowly and steady with Kaeya falling into routine - he wakes up, makes a breakfast for the both of you, you eat it, as you shyly tell him about your newest interest or finding - a drawing, a strange bug, a shiny rock of unusual colour, then he leaves for work, instructing you to go to the neighbours if you have issues, and leaving a premade dinner for you. Then he comes back, now listening to you talking about your day - you were drawing again, or you played with the other kids, or you were running and catching the butterflies, the now dead insects left for him to look at.

It’s a mundane life, something that Kaeya thought will never please him. There is a large pit inside of him - it was growing and festering with years - Khaenri’ah, father, Diluc, Crepus, that fight. It’s ugly and snarling and thoroughly scorched, a part of his soul that keeps him awake and anxious and angry and sad during bad nights. The pit quiets a bit when Kaeya takes care of you - toys, foods, games, the same way he wishes he was treated as a child.

Crepus Ragnvindr was a nice person, he took Kaeya in, clothed and fed and kept him safe for years, yet there was always an invisible line that separated Khaenri'ahn from Diluc - warmer voice, higher expectations, more praise. Kaeya doubts Crepus noticed this truly tiny gap in treatment, Diluc for sure didn’t. Alberich did his best to ignore it, yet he couldn’t, this difference nagged him at the back of his mind, alienating him in the newfound home.

That must be why he does his best to spoil you - it's new toys and furniture and evening walks around the Mondstadt with you on his shoulders. Soon, a new rumour starts to travel around Mondstadt - about a stray being picked up by another stray. Amber seemingly forgives him for the incident with Collei, Jean gives him a raise the same month, for child expenses, she succinctly says, Albedo off handedly mentions Klee and her desire for friendships, even Lisa gives him a couple of fairytale books, warning him what will happen if he will be late to return them beforehand. Diluc doesn't comment on the irony the next time they happen to meet, but he sees some Dawn Winery workers looking after you, when he is busy with Favonius stuff.

Kaeya, for the first time in years, feels truly happy. He has family again - you and him this time and he's willing to smother you with affections. He buys you things he wishes he had, and teaches you the skills he thinks will help you in life - how to fight, how to lie, how to kill someone with words alone.

It's a strange love he has for you - never seeing you as you - but it's genuine and all encompassing. Kaeya doesn't want little him to suffer again.

[lily-drake]

Death

Death was nothing new in Marinette’s life.  In fact it played a large role.  Her friends and city had died a hundred times over.  Her brother.  Her funny, smart, loving, dramatic brother had died at the hands of a mad man.  She didn’t think it was wrong for her to use the horse miraculous to visit her brother's grave.  It was officially five years after all.  He would be 20, he would have loved to plan out her 16th birthday this year.  She sat down and read Pride and Prejudice out loud, only a few tears falling as she glanced at the grave every so often.  She had also brought a bouquet of white lilies, statices, red carnations, and white daisies.  Soft grass laid over the dirt, the sun gleamed above, and sometimes when she would lean against the grave it was almost like she could feel him.

Dark storm clouds began to cloud the sky, and she knew she would have to leave soon, though she didn’t want to.  Dad would be upset if he caught her, though considering how many weeds she had to remove from the grave and how abandoned it looked, she doubted anyone had visited any time soon.  Suddenly the rain began to pour down and it felt like the earth shook.  She felt a great imbalance, but where, and how?  She touched both of her ears and she could feel her miraculous still there, Tikki even poked her head out from her bag with a look of fear.  A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as rain came pouring down soaking everything in sight.  She looked around, and she kept spinning searching for something, anything that could have caused or been affected by the imbalance.  She waited there for many minutes just waiting, when she felt the dirt beneath her feet begin to shift a little.  She quickly moved away and watched as the dirt slowly moved and shifted.  She felt sick, because the dirt moving was directly where Jason was lying in eternal rest.  This couldn’t be right, this must be some mistake!  Her brother had died, she had seen the body, it haunted her nightmares for so many nights.  He’s been gone for five years!  This can’t be possible without some type of wish.

The grass began to move and shift away, and a fleshy mud covered hand raised from the ground causing a scream to rip from her lungs.  Her body sprung into action before her mind caught up to her beginning to help dig up her brother's grave, and when she saw the jet black hair covered in dirt and mud she knew that it was him.  She heaved him out from the hole and stared in shocked horror as he just sat there staring at her.  His eyes were the same blue she remembered, but they were so clouded.  Fear, confusion, and nothing shown in his eyes, like he wasn’t even truly there.  This must be a dream, it has to be, no, a nightmare.  Her brother shouldn’t be back, he died, she saw his limp body in dad’s hands, even if Alfred and bluebird tried to stop her.  But the imbalance was real, she could tell, and he was affected by it.

Slowly she raised her hand and hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek.  He leaned into her hand, though his eyes were still clouded and void.  He may be alive, but he wasn’t fully…alive.  She tackled her older brother into a hug and began sobbing onto him, but just sat there, head leaning against hers.  Pressing her ear against his chest she could hear his gentle heartbeat, and just for a moment everything seemed like it would be ok.  Then she felt a sharp prick in her neck and the world faded to black.

________

Marinette awoke to darkness.  She tried to sit up and felt her hands held behind her back being held together by something cold and thick.  Memories flooded back into her mind and she snapped into awareness and looked around.  It was dark, though there was a small light coming from a window far above where she could not ever reach.  The walls seemed to be made of thick stones and there was a heavy iron door a few feet in front of her.  Jason wasn’t there though, he wasn’t in the room, she didn’t understand.  Suddenly the door opened and she looked up and saw her mother’s green eyes.  Her panic grew again, how did she get here, was she captured too?  She had visited her often in Paris.  She was very vague about her job, and she knew it was probably sketchy, but could it be bad enough to be captured?

“Marinette, My Darling.  I apologize for your treatment, I did not realize that you were part of this.”

Talia rushed towards her daughter and unlocked the chains.  She was pulled into a tight hug that Marinette quickly returned.  After a few moments she pulled away but held her shoulders gently.

“I must show you something, come.”

Talia quickly stood and helped her daughter to her feet and walked swiftly through the calls of Nanda Parabat.

“What is mom?”

Talia smiled at that, she had always loved when her daughter called her that.

“It’s a surprise, My Flower.”

A few more twists though hallways and they stopped in front of a thick wooden door.

“I want you to meet someone.”

The door was pushed open and there sat a small baby in a crip with dark black hair, tanned skin, and dark green eyes.  Marinette gasped and covered her mouth,

“Meet your brother, Damian.”

Marinette slowly walked over and stared at Damian through the top of the crib.  He silently watched and studied her without making a sound.

“He’s about 3 months old.”

Talia said, smiling happily as she watched her daughter run her fingers through Damian’s small tresses of hair.  With a snap of her finger one of her shadows stepped next to her.

“Bring Jason.”

And with that order they were gone returning a few minutes later with a boy who was alive physically, but was mentally gone.  She could fix that though, it would be the last resort if all else failed, but she could fix it.  Marinette looked up when she heard Jason’s footsteps and her bright smile fell slightly into a small sad one.

“Jay-Jay.”

She whispered softly as she took slow steps towards the boy.  She quickly ran and hugged him again.  He no longer smelled like mud and he wasn’t wearing his suit, and he was….he was alive again!  Tears fell down her cheeks, because she missed him so much.

________

Marinette stayed with her mom in what she learned was Nanda Parabat.  She trained with Jason, but he was catatonic, just going through the motions blankly.  It worried her, especially as she watched her mother grow more anxious.  She cared for her little brother, and wondered if her dad knew, or if he would even care.  She often looked at Paris news for when she needed to go for Akuma attacks, but if her host parents even realized she was gone.  They hadn’t, nor had any of her “friends” apparently as they hadn’t sent her a single thing from the weeks she’s been gone.

Marinette knew that Nada Parabat wasn’t a good place, knew that the people were bad, knew that her grandfather was the head of it.  He didn’t seem to care who she was, he just thought she was some nurse for Damian, and she was thankful for that.  She knew that the Lazarus Pits were here, what they did, how they were made, how her grandfather used them for selfish purposes.  She didn’t do anything though, she was mad at her father for sending her away, mad that he adopted a bee kid only a year after he sent her away, mad that he never talked to her, mad that Dick never fought for her or looked for her, mad that Jason was forced to wake up and climb his way out of his grave only to be practically brain dead, mad that her classmates believed lies over her, mad that her host parents believed them and treated her like dirt or an invisible object meant to seen and not heard, mad that Chat Noir would leave her during battles because she didn’t return his affections, and mad that no one cared that she was gone!  So she trained as hard as she could, made sure that she perfected everything her mother threw at her.  Took care of her family and made sure they knew how thankful she was for them and loved them.  Then when she finally got a text from someone it was insults for being a horrible person and hurting Lila when she hadn’t been there for weeks!

She threw her phone at the wall and the crack echoed around the room.  Her breathing was harsh and ragged and then the tears she had been holding back finally fell.  Sobs wracked her body as she bit her lip to keep silent.  She tried to take in deep shuddering breaths, but it was no use and the sobs came out.  Her knees felt weak and she crumpled to the ground.  The door burst open and she saw her mom there knife in hand looking around the room with swift deadly eyes.  When she didn’t see any visible threats she kneeled in front of her daughter and looked directly into her eyes.  Eyes a storming blue that flooded with tears and made her heart ache and her want to murder whoever made her precious daughter look so broken.

“My Flower, what’s wrong?”

“N-nobody cares ab-about me!  No one cares that I’m g-gone.  Everyb-body hates me, and I’m so tired of it!  I’ll n-never be enough for an-anybody and I’m t-trying so h-hard to do wh-what everyone needs or exp-ects me to be!”

Marinette stuttered out between sobs.  Talia glared at that and felt anger at Bruce.  She thought that he at least checked in with her every once in a while.  She had guessed wrong then.  She pulled her daughter into a hug and let her cry against her shoulder.

“Shh, shh.  It’s okay.  You are perfect the way you are Marinette.  You don’t have to prove anything to me.  You’re such a good sister, you train so hard, and you have so many amazing skills and talents.  You are enough, don’t let anyone say anything different.”

Marinette gripped onto her mom and they both just sat there in silence as Marinette finally just cried.  After who knows how long Marinette gently pushed away and looked her mom directly in the eyes with complete seriousness said,

“I want you to help me fake my death.  If everyone wants to pretend I’m gone or wants me to disappear, then fine.  I will.  I don’t want to be seen anymore.”

Talia stared at her daughter in shock for a moment then gave her a small smile.

“It will be done my dear, you will be free.”

“Thank you mom.”

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @laurcad123