#why do I like doing this to our poor bean?

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ something like sympathy

summary: winter break with a sympathetic vil schoenheit type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, good old fluff, mentions of food and eating + vil is kiiind of implied to have an ed word count: 4k

Different never meant "bad" to Vil Schoenheit.

...And besides that, he simply had no reason to care about the magicless student. You weren't like the others at Night Raven College- you didn't run in the halls or make obscene gestures behind the professor's backs, you didn't shout, you didn't interrupt, you didn't fight or scream or slouch.

You were truly nothing special at all, which is special itself at a place like that.

Vil supposes that's why he liked you.

And you were always alone. At the beginning of the semester, he'd seen you straggling along behind the other first years, looking like a lost puppy. Never quite sure of what to say or not say, what to do with your hands, but always sure that you didn't quite belong.

He recognized that look on a person.

Then, you were alone again. Vil reasoned with himself. It wouldn't have been unusual for a student of Night Raven to prefer their own company. But again, you weren't a Night Raven student. You were a stranger, and stranger you stayed.

For all the things he'd heard about you, your presence was not impressive. You were always meek. Quiet. You did not join a club, he heard. You didn't talk to your classmates. They didn't talk to you.

Vil had once quietly, very quietly, asked Epel about you. And those dreadful dark circles, he said. But Epel didn't know much, just that the other first years thought you were "weird" and thus you spent more of your time with the staff than the students.

Weird. That word left a poor taste in Vil's mouth.

Different, yes. Quiet, reserved, yes, yes. But weird?

"Why the staff?" he had asked, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

Epel shrugged and picked at his collar. He'd learned not to complain in front of Vil by that point. "Mostly Crowley. They do his bidding, or something,"

He shouldn't have let that bother him, but he did, anyway.

Vil watched you a little closer from then on. How you stuttered when you spoke. How you sat away from the others. How you always looked so tired and unwell and...

Stop making me feel sorry for you, he thought, as if you could hear him. Stop it.

He asked some of the other housewardens. All of them had stories, but none of them seem worried. Again, that word. Weird.

Vil corrected them each time. Different. Not weird. Different. They ignored him.

You became a mystery to him. You sat, you waited, you stood again. You ate, sometimes, but never quite enough. You looked at your paper but didn't write. It was as if you were dead to this world and reborn into your own, existing solely within yourself in the way that he could only see through the light in your eyes.

He wanted to get closer, he wanted to see that light and know what you were thinking, but he didn't know how. And he didn't want to involve Rook in this. That would only scare you away.

No. Vil Schoenheit, the most beautiful man in the world, actor, model, housewarden of Pomefiore, would have to be gentle with you.

.

"And Epel?"

He asks, serving him another helping of green beans. Epel's nose wrinkles at the smell of whatever fancy spices they'd been baked in.

"...Back to my... grandmother's," the boy says.

"Don't scowl," Vil snaps. "This is our last dinner as a dorm before break. You could at least pretend to have manners."

Epel bites back a swear, and Rook gives him an encouraging smile and a pat on the back. Vil rolls his eyes.

"And you, Rook?"

"Ah! My family is vacationing at one of our villas," he says, vague as ever. Vil doesn't bother asking for details.

"Good," he says, cutting himself another piece of fish. He doesn't eat it, though. "And the Prefect?"

The question is directed at Epel. He blinks.

"I reckon... I mean, I assume they'll be staying here,"

"Alone?"

He gives the housewarden a suspicious look. Rook's grin sharpens.

"...I guess so. No students, no staff,"

"That can hardly be safe," Vil says, finally eating. He chews, swallows, and dabs around his mouth with his napkin before speaking again. Everyone waits for him.

"How will they feed themselves? And what of the cold? Crowley does realize that they are a person, and not a cardboard cutout, yes?"

Epel shrugs. He doesn't know more than that. Rook does, but he chooses not to say anything.

"It's not like they got a lot of options," the first year says, pretending to eat his green beans while discreetly discarding of them under the table.

Vil scowls, this time. "And no one has offered to take them?"

Epel blinks. "...They don't have any friends, really,"

He shakes his head. Why is he not surprised? Would it kill the students at this school to have one shred of human decency?

"Shall I extend them an invitation on your behalf, Housewarden?" Rook says, a coy smile playing at his lips.

He's teasing, in his own infuriating way, but Vil isn't witless. Even he can be surprising.

"Yes, thank you," he says, and then returns to his meal without another word. The shocked silence and envious looks of the other students are not lost on Vil, but, this time, he doesn't scold them for staring.

.

"Leave your shoes by the door. You'll track mud," Vil says, walking inside.

You do as he says without missing a beat. It's almost adorable, how nervous you are. And it's terrifying at the same time. You act as if you haven't been shown any kindness in months.

He supposes you probably haven't.

"It's warm in here," is the first thing you say.

Not a comment about the imported marble, or the display shelf full of Vil's father's accolades, or the stained glass windows.

No. "It's warm in here", you say.

Something like sympathy twists in Vil's stomach.

"...Yes. And it's quite expensive to heat a house of this size, so, please, mind the door,"

You realize that you're standing in the doorway and promptly move inside, letting the large front door close behind you.

Your cat... thing makes a comment about how shiny everything is. Vil sighs.

"And please don't break anything. Most of the art is original and can't be replaced..." he says. "We have three meals a day, and if you're hungry between then, there's fresh fruit in the kitchen."

The little dire beast looks up at you with big, sparkly eyes, and you nod, letting him scamper in the direction of the kitchen, which he must have... smelled?

Vil watches him skid across the marble floors and crash into the wall, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"...Sorry about Grim," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic, and it makes Vil nauseous. How did anyone like you even end up at Night Raven?

"Never mind that. Are you hungry?"

You stare at him as if you hadn't heard what he said. You seem reluctant to answer.

Vil puts a hand on his hip. "We're never going to leave the foyer if you keep staring like that. Come on,"

He leads you to the kitchen, ignoring the sight of Grim digging through his pantry like a starved man.

"We don't have dinner until six, and it's past lunch, so I'll make you something light," he says, looking through the fridge. You stand behind him like you have nothing better to do.

"You can have a seat wherever you'd like. I won't charge you for it," he smiles.

You stare back. Sevens, now he's making jokes with you. What is WRONG with him?

He does get you to sit somewhere, though, which he counts as a win. Your little creature eventually joins you, sitting in your lap and probably covering you in cat hair. Vil tries not to think about it.

You wait until he's begun taking out plates and pans to speak. "You're cooking?"

"Surprised?" He smirks.

There's always something rather satisfying about subverting expectations. Of course, you didn't know him yet, and you probably assumed that he was just another spoiled-

"No, I mean, you're cooking for me?"

Vil almost drops the pan. Damn it. Must everything you say be so insufferably pitiful? With the kicked puppy look, too? Are you doing this on purpose?

He quickly turns his back to you, facing the stovetop.

"...I am. Is that alright?"

He hears some shuffling that he takes as a nod.

"Better than alright!" Grim says. He can hear you chuckling at that. The sound is warmer than the open flame.

"...Well... good," Vil says, trying to sound stern again. "I don't cut corners when it comes to healthy eating, and while you're under my roof, I expect the same. So... it'll be three home-cooked meals a day. Understood?"

Grim whispers to you, asking about dessert, and you shush him. Vil rolls his eyes.

"...And dessert. We're in agreement, then?"

You nod again, and he hums. Good. Now he won't feel ill every time you look at him.

He finishes your "snack" (which is more of a light lunch), and serves both of you. Grim immediately digs in, practically tearing apart the plate, but you don't even touch yours.

Vil doesn't care for that look. It's all... sad. "Is something wrong?"

And you hesitate to answer. For a moment, he worries he made something you can't eat. Finally:

"Aren't you going to have something?"

What are you trying to do, kill him? Vil huffs.

"I didn't think of it,"

Your hands remain on your lap. Grim is starting to pick veggies off your plate already, and Vil has to fight the urge to swat him away from your food.

He sighs. "Will you eat if I have something?"

You hesitate to answer again, and then you nod. Barely. Like you're nervous just being in the same room as him. Damn you.

Vil sits next to you and takes a modest portion from your plate. He hates himself for doing it, but he doesn't ask why, either. He just assumes you feel awkward eating in front of him.

Or maybe you think he's poisoned you. It wouldn't be unbelievable, considering what you've already been through at school.

Either way, you do finally eat, even though the food is cold now. You even give Grim something else from your plate when he begs.

Vil watches you. The way you eat, the way you smile at that terrible greedy cat of yours, the way you politely stack your plates when you finish. You should be under someone's Christmas tree, not sitting in his kitchen.

"...Can I ask you something?"

He'd been cleaning off your plates in the sink when you spoke again. Vil hates those sorts of questions- haunting memories of interviews and tabloid reporters flash across his mind.

"You may," he says, subtly correcting you.

"Where's the guy in all your pictures?"

Vil quiets. His pictures? His Magicam pictures? Why would you-

When he turns over his shoulder, you're looking at the wall. Oh. Of course.

"My... father is filming a movie. He won't be home until the end of break. You won't have to meet him... but he would like you,"

"So you're here all by yourself?"

Vil hates that question. He hates the way you say it. Why would you care? Why would you worry about him? You barely know him.

"...Well, there are the staff. The housekeepers. But I don't need them here every day, so I usually let them have paid time-off when my father isn't around,"

That sounds silly when he says it aloud, he thinks.

"You do...?" you ask. "...That's sweet."

Vil doesn't answer that. He doesn't have an answer for that.

.

He doesn't know how to approach you.

It's funny. Vil can handle paparazzi, prying interviewers, tabloid gossipers, demanding directors, egotistical designers, even Neige Leblanche... but he can't bring himself to knock on your door.

Five times, five times since you've arrived at his home, he's gone to you, up the stairs or down the hall, stood in front of your room, and did nothing.

Sometimes he can hear you inside, others not. Once, he came as soon as he got up, not even bothering to fix his hair, and threw open your door... and you were asleep.

He isn't even sure what he wants to say. Something. Anything.

"Do you want to watch something with me?"

Vil jolts. He's not easy to startle, but he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice you standing behind him. You're quiet.

"...Yes... I suppose I have the time," he says, as if he's done anything this week but imagine this exact moment. "Do you have something in mind?"

You bring him to the viewing room, to the cabinet of all of his and his father's movies. Apparently, you'd been exploring the house while Vil sulked in his bedroom.

"This one?" he asks, not bothering to hide the sour expression on his face as you held up your pick.

"Is it bad?"

"No," he says. Nothing he makes is bad. "It's just... well, I..." It's a Neige movie, and Vil is not in it for more than a scene. "...Never mind. We can watch it."

He sits beside you and the furball, who seems more entertained with rubbing himself all over the couch to get his scent on it (ugh), and the film's opening credits roll.

How he's going to sit through two hours of Neige Leblanche with you is beyond him.

A small, quiet, but biting thought that you might like Neige more than him makes Vil uncomfortable in his seat. He doesn't know why he would care about such a thing, but he does.

Vil watches you more than he watches the film. You don't react much, he notes. The jokes don't land with you, the songs don't make you smile, not even the scary scenes really get more than a yawn out of you. He so desperately wants to ask-

"Who is this, again?"

He blinks as you finally speak, as if he'd forgotten you could do that.

"...The actor? That's Neige. Neige Leblanche," Vil has to remind himself that you're not from this world, and you don't know these things.

You make a face. "...I don't really like him,"

And there it is. If Vil were not already sitting down, his legs would've given out. He stares at you as if you were speaking another language to him.

"...Hm... You don't, do you?" he asks, trying to withhold the excitement in his voice. My, my, how he'd love a look into your mind...

"He's a little too much," you say. "Just... too much."

Vil nods. "I understand completely,"

A pause. He swallows thickly. "Would you like to watch something else?"

"Um... yeah. Maybe you should pick,"

Maybe he should pick. He smiles, takes out the disc, and comes back with a different one.

"This, you should like," he says, putting it in. "...And no Neige."

You nod. "No Neige,"

.

Winter break goes on, and the truth becomes impossible to ignore.

Vil won't think the words. He refuses to let them come together in his mind, because once he's thought them, they'll feel real.

Fortunately for him, he has other things to occupy his thoughts.

He cradles his chin in his palm, sitting beside you in a way that's certainly not good for his posture, but he can forgive himself for being comfortable just this once.

You'd built him a fire. What a strange thought that is. You'd gone outside, found the wood, split it, and built a fire in the lounge. He walked in on you as it was kindling, and you explained you had been doing this for months at Ramshackle. As if you were living in another century, he thought.

And now, here you were. You and him. Sitting in front of a marvelous fire you'd made, warm drinks he'd made you in hand, Grim snoozing on a cushion behind you. You'd been telling him about your home, your family, your schooling, your country and culture... and he'd been listening. Of course.

He'd never seen you smile so much.

"Do you miss it?" he asks, his voice quiet so as not to disturb Grim.

You're quiet for a moment. You take a sip of your drink, and then put it on the rug. Normally, he'd chastise someone for being so careless, but he doesn't even think of that now.

"...It wasn't perfect. But it was home," and that's all you say.

Vil smiles softly. "I imagine NRC hasn't been the most inviting,"

You almost chuckle at his joke. He knows that's a bit of an understatement.

"...Not until recently," you say, quietly, as if sharing a secret. "You... um... this is the closest to home I've felt."

Vil's heart skips a beat. Again, you somehow manage to leave him speechless and flustered, and he doesn't hate it. Not really. And, for a moment, he could've sworn you'd almost told him that he was the closest thing to home.

It's a scary thought. In a good way, though.

"Oh, it's snowing," you say, standing to go to the window. He lets you go, taking the moment to think about what you said.

And he thinks. And he thinks. And eventually, he thinks that he does want to be your home.

And the words he'd been avoiding for days come to him.

Because he's falling in love with you.

.

Things are easy. He cooks. You do dishes. You build him fires, and he thanks you with dark chocolate and tea. The snow gets heavier, but you have plenty of movies to watch and much to talk about, so it never bothers you.

He does your makeup for you, once or twice. You never go to sleep before a cleansing face mask. Even Grim gets his nails trimmed and fur brushed.

Vil lets you braid his hair one evening. He teaches you how to tighten the braids, how to pin them back so they stay in place. He does your own hair to show you.

He promises that when the snow melts, he'll take you shopping.

"It's a date", you smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.

You stay up late one night, scrolling through Neige's Magicam and judging his posts together. Your head is on his shoulder. His arm is around you. You fall asleep like that, and the next night, you do the same.

The door to the room he'd been so scared of knocking on is always open now, because you're never inside. You stay in his room, with his jewels and awards, where you belong.

He even lets Grim sleep on the bed, when he's behaved.

You laugh more. Even at his stupid jokes, the ones he never makes in front of anyone else, you laugh. You're beautiful, he thinks.

You talk more, too. About yourself. About your home. About NRC. The dark circles under your eyes begin to make sense. Vil's hatred of the incompetent headmaster is justified. He hates him even more.

He promises you that you can stay in Pomefiore whenever you want. There's always a door open for you.

.

One night, he gets carried away. You were in bed. He'd been attending to you again, soothing your cuticles and fussing over your hair. He peels one of his nice face masks off of you and smiles.

"Much better. Softer. Feel," he commands, guiding your hand up to feel one of your cheeks. His hand is on the other.

You touch the plush softness of your skin, greatly improved by his weeks of care, and you nod. "Better,"

"Better," he echoes. Suddenly, he has this terrible, nagging urge to touch you more, and he kisses your cheek.

It's fleeting, so fast that you might have missed it if you weren't paying attention. You are, though, and your eyes are wide.

Vil feels dread. More than before any audition or award ceremony. He stares back, desperate to find his voice.

"...Is that... okay?"

He can barely breathe until you nod.

"It's okay," you say.

He sighs, letting the dread out of him in a single breath. He curses at himself for letting his thoughts carry him away like that, and he makes a mental note to work on it. And then you drop a bombshell on him.

"...You can... do it again, if you want."

Vil says nothing. He stares, his expression unchanging, as if he hadn't heard you right.

And then he moves without thinking, without caring, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you everywhere. Your forehead, both cheeks, your nose and jaw, all of the affection he'd been withholding comes pouring out of him all at once, and it takes a strenuous amount of effort not to touch your lips.

He's almost upset that he isn't wearing lipstick. He would have liked to see you covered in kisses. The thought of you being so visibly his is intoxicating.

He pulls away after you start giggling. You're both dizzy, flustered by the attention he was giving you as if he would never get to give it again.

And he smiles back.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You take a breath to compose yourself, and you nod. It's cute. You're cute.

.

"You know, when I heard that my son was bringing someone home for the holidays, I wasn't expecting..."

Vil shoots his father a very pointed glare, both for embarrassing him and for bothering you.

You don't seem to mind, though. "I wasn't expecting to be brought home, so I guess I can't blame you,"

Erik laughs. You laugh. Vil sighs.

When he asked you if you wanted to meet his father, he wasn't really expecting you to say yes. Honestly, he was sort of hoping you wouldn't. Not because of his father, but because he was beginning to enjoy being alone with you. In your own little world together.

It's already been harder sleeping in the same room without being noticed. Their home is big, but not that big. And that's not even mentioning the cuddling and kissing Vil had grown rather dependent on in the past few weeks.

"Well, I'm pleased. If Vil is happy, I'm happy," Erik says. Vil hates the way he said that, as if he already knows...

...And there's that look again. The raised eyebrows, the cheesy grin. Pointed right at him. Vil sighs.

"Really, it was nothing. If anything, I was just appalled that none of the other housewardens had extended an invite," Vil says.

Erik nods. "You'd think with all the princes and what have you, someone would've had a spare room. I guess it all worked out for the better, though. Right?"

He may as well be planning your wedding right here. You watch as Vil sets down his fork, takes his napkin off his lap, and pushes in his chair.

"Excuse me for a moment,"

He excuses himself, stepping out of the dining room and into the hall. Pull yourself together. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about.

"Vil?"

Vil's meditative thoughts shatter at the sound of your voice, and his heart picks up again. He turns to face you.

"I... apologize for my father. He's only joking," he says.

You shake your head. "I was just making sure you're okay,"

There it is again. Always putting everyone before yourself. Always making sure he's well. Always bothering him, asking if he's eaten enough, when he should be the one worried about you. Everyone should.

The other housewardens were right. You are weird. You don't fit in at NRC. Perhaps you didn't fit in before that, too.

And perhaps that doesn't matter. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing, to be weird. You don't need to belong anywhere but with him.

Slowly, he smiles.

"I'm alright. Just... collecting my thoughts," he says.

He holds out a hand for you to take, and you take it. He gives you a gentle squeeze. You squeeze back.

"...Shall we?"

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[woncon]

hi i read your stories and you're awesome!! can i please request a san and wooyoung scenario where they're making coffee for you in the morning?

Hi dear Anon! 🥰

Thank you for the kind words & the request. I'd a fun time writing it. I hope you'll like it too! 💗💗

➳ a cup of care

➶ poly!woosan x gn!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ San forgot to take the coffee machine to the mechanic. But instead of admitting it, he wants to become a home barista, making coffee for you every morning until he can actually take the machine to the repairman.

When Wooyoung finds out what he's up to, he won't tell you. He decides to help to keep San's secret and make nice coffee so you won't tell the difference.

Keeping it from you may seem easy.

It's not.

➴ genre: fluff, light angst, estabilished relationship, polyamory

: ̗̀➛ warnings: half-naked san, who is also a baby

⌨ :: 2.3K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ kisses and hugs for @honeytwo!!

➳ ateez masterlist | main masterlist

At 5:30 on a Monday morning, Wooyoung strode out into the kitchen. He was looking for San to drag him back to bed. You both slept easier and deeper when the boy was there. You clung to him eagerly, and he usually couldn't even slip away without you being alarmed that he was gently shaking you off him.

Wooyoung expected San to come for a glass of water. That was not the case. The broad-shouldered boy in his pyjamas leaned against the kitchen counter and watched a video in contemplation. At his fingertips were a colander, a bag of what looked like cat food, mugs and the kitchen scale.

Wooyoung curiously ventured closer. The parquet floor creaked under his socked feet.

San turned around like the hyperventilating protagonist of a horror film.

“Hi!” He paused the video so quickly that his phone fell on its face.

“Hi…” Wooyoung took a closer look at the prepared equipment. He picked up the filter and poked the bag. There was something hard inside. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of workout stuff? Or poison?”

“Poison?” San laughed awkwardly and shook his head as if he'd been caught.

“Are you... okay?”

“Of course. I just, uh, wanted to surprise you. Could you go back to bed and keep it a surprise?” San patted Wooyoung's waist. “I promise I'll be ready quickly.”

Wooyoung took pity on him. It was like San to wake up at sunrise to surprise the two people he loved the most. He didn't want to bother him any longer. He pressed a consenting kiss to San's cheek and would have turned back to try to fall back asleep in your embrance, but noticed the pattern at the bottom of the bag.

It was minimalist and almost blended into the caramel colour of the bag, but it was there nonetheless. Three coffee beans. It wasn't cat food, then.

Wooyoung blinked. He walked around San then held the bag in front of his face, and the heavy scent emanating from it immediately hit him in the nose. He pointed incredulously at San, whose neck was flushed.

“You forgot!” he said in disbelief.

“I have not!”

The other walked over to the coffee machine, plugged it in and tried to turn it on. It did the same thing it had been doing for the last few days: all the buttons flickered red and the machine whined, as if it would die at any moment and couldn't make the slightest coffee.

“Oh, but you forgot.” Wooyoung patted the poor steam and turned off the power. “Y/n specifically asked you to do that, remember? They even made your breakfast so you'd write down in your diary the appointment they'd booked with the plumber. And you forgot.”

San pouted in surrender. “Why are you mocking me now?”

“I'm just having a little fun.” Wooyoung grinned. “I'm usually the bad boyfriend here.”

“You're not a bad boyfriend.”

“But I forget more often than you, pearl of men.” Wooyoung looked through the assorted tools again. “So?”

“So what?”

“How can I help you?”

“You want to help?” San was surprised. “I thought you were going to tell our baby.”

“‘Course not. I don't want them to be sad. I'll help make sure they get their coffee and don't notice the difference until the machine is fixed.”

“See, Woo?” San's all brightened up. He stroked Wooyoung's face. “You're not a bad boyfriend.”

“Still, I'll help you cover up your forgetfulness.”

“Because you're my great boyfriend.” San pulled him close and showered him with kisses.

Wooyoung carefully pushed him away. It wouldn't have ended well if the coffee project hadn't progressed, because they were kissing and slowly forgetting about everything but each other.

“So where do we start?”

San set up his phone, tilted it at the microwave again, and they both dug into the information presented to them on how to make quality, home-brewed coffee.

****

Only five days. That's how long they had to wait before San could actually take the coffee machine to the mechanic. The earliest the man could meet San was Saturday afternoon. In the meantime, the two boys not only had to make homemade coffee by grinding and filtering, but also to make the coffee taste very similar to the one the machine made. Wooyoung took on the role of the pre-taster.

You liked the coffee on Monday. Although you noted that the program seemed to be quieter this time, you didn't find the taste strange. San laughed and wiped a spot of coffee off the edge of your mouth.

"I think you just slept too deeply. In the kitchen it was as loud and lively as ever. The mechanic did a good job."

As you took your next sip, he glanced warily at Woooyung.

The next day, Wooyoung played coffee machine sounds from his phone while San ground coffee beans. You drank again, this time making no comment on the missing mechanical sounds.

On the third day, Wednesday, you resented that neither of them were with you anymore. You got up early and called them.

“Shit! They're coming!” San tried to cover up his intimate parts like a caught-in-act lover: the filter, the cups, and of course the bag of coffee beans he hid in various places around the apartment as if they were a dangerous piece of his tainted past - even though he had no tainted past.

“Go, distract them!” Wooyoung took up the grind that day. He didn't want to stop, especially since his skin had soaked up the smell of coffee beans that his sense of smell was completely dulled. Of course, you would have smelled it. 

Wooyoung didn't want questions about why he smelled thick and heavy like fresh coffee beans.

"Okay," San nodded. “Okay.”

Then he took off his pyjama top. Wooyoung's eyes widened. He didn't mean it that way, he would have added, but San and his refreshing body were gone.

“Do you want to take a shower with me?” his question filtered out from the living room. “I'd be happy to wash your back.”

Of course, you couldn't say no to that.

San had handled the emergency well enough, Wooyoung admitted. He had meanwhile finished his fresh coffee peacefully and even toyed with the idea of opening a coffee shop for a moment. He served it with a wide smile, and bathed contentedly in the showery scent of your neck and the melody of your appreciative humming, as if you knew he made it for you, not the coffee machine.

Everything went smoothly on Thursday, they even finished faster than before. They were really practiced and coordinated. They had time to lie back down next to you and gently caress you into wakefulness.

Wooyoung enjoyed the week, and even if the thought of failing at some point occurred to him, he dismissed the idea. They were a good team, and so far they'd done a great job, making delicious coffees and putting big smiles on your face with their hot brews. If you'd mentioned the coffee smell, he'd have bought a coffee shower gel to explain it. He and San ran through many scenarios to prepare for possible danger. Two more days was not the end of the world.

Although, you seemed to want to bring the world to an end. You also wanted to have a cup of coffee on Friday afternoon.

“Since the coffee machine got fixed, the coffee tastes better. And I'm busy, I need to recharge,” you said.

Your boyfriends couldn't let you touch the machine. The minute you turn it on, they're busted, even though they've been so good at hiding San's screw-up. They had another quick look.

“How about we go to that coffee shop you always daydreams about?” Wooyoung suggested.

“Really?” You froze, a faint frown of thought appearing on your face. “But it's an expensive place.”

"We want to make you happy," San nodded. “It's worth every penny.”

And of course they would have gone to great lengths to make sure you didn't even look at the coffee machine for a few more days.

“Well, okay," you smiled in agreement.

Friday's panic situation had been well averted. Wooyoung now really thought they were on the straight and narrow, only one brewed coffee away from success. 

Well, Wooyoung hadn't factored San's Saturday morning breakdown into his immediate future.

As usual, they divided the duties. San ground the coffee beans, and Wooyoung set the Bluetooth speaker at just the right angle to make sure you could hear the coffee machine sounds playing and soothe you half asleep.

“Woo…”

Wooyoung looked up. It was rare to see San like that. He was a strong mountain, straight and taut. But now he was hunched over the counter, looking powerless. His eyes radiated uncertainty.

“I think I am the bad boyfriend.”

“What?” Wooyoung tried to process the information as quickly as possible. “You? You're literally boyfriend material. If you were single, everyone would be fighting for you. Even though you're ours, Y/n and I have to be careful not to let them take you away from us.” Wooyoung stroked the back of San’s hand. “You're not a bad friend, Sanie. You're absolutely not.”

“I've been lying to Y/n for almost a week.”

“Because you don't want them to drink powdered coffee. You take care of them. You ordered quality coffee from some classy guy.” Wooyoung took over the grinder from him. “And you can tell them the truth in the afternoon, if you want. I don't think they'll be angry, they'll probably just laugh at us.”

San still pouted ruefully, but he no longer hunched forward so tragically.

“Go and cuddle them. I'll finish this.”

“Can you?”

“Of course I can.” Wooyoung pulled the bag of coffee beans in front of him and smiled encouragingly at the other. “You know, thanks to you, I became a coffee master.”

Before Wooyoung could concentrate on making your morning coffee, San pulled him close and planted a long, sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you.”

“It is the least I can do. Now go. And don't let our baby out of bed!”

****

“Careful, careful," Wooyoung murmured as he handed you the mug. “It's hot. Very hot. Like your skin... hmm… let me lie back a bit.”

Wooyoung stretched out beside you, satisfied, once the coffee was safely in the palm of your hand. He rested his head against your waist and was about to look for a blanket that would hopefully preserve some body heat, but instead he got San himself as a blanket. He didn't complain.

“Gosh, the kitchen stone is so cold,” he whimpered.

“Well,” one of your hands went into his hair and gently massaged his scalp. “Next time, put on another layer of socks. Or don't go out. I can make my own coffee.”

“I wanted to be nice to you so you wouldn't leave me for this sexy guy behind me.”

While you giggled, San hugged Wooyoung even tighter, and the boy was reminded of how strong San is. And how much he loves it when he has time to spend the morning with the two of you.

“Oh, that can't happen. What would we do without you?” You stroked his cheek and San hummed in agreement.

What's for sure, at this point Wooyoung didn't feel like a bad boyfriend. In fact, he was proud that he could be here, that you both loved him.

“And thanks for the whipped cream, too, Woo.”

“You're welcome. I made it with love. I would have also put cinnamon on it, but I couldn't find any.”

"You must not have seen it from the bag of coffee beans," you said.

San's body tensed around Wooyoung. Wooyoung himself twitched.

“What?”

“The coffee bean bag. The one you hid as if it were a drug. A few days ago, it just covered up the cinnamon.”

San let Wooyoung go and sat up. He just blinked and waited for you to say something else. You didn't. You drank your coffee peacefully, your face smeared with whipped cream without a spoon to use.

“Don't look at me like that. I wasn't complaining about not liking it. In fact, you made it delicious.”

“You knew?” San was stunned. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Because the coffee is delicious,” you drank some more. “And you've been very enthusiastic all week. I think you guys had fun too. Or am I wrong?”

“When did you find out?” Wooyoung asked, pulling his knees to his chest.

You frowned thoughtfully.

“I think it was Wednesday. Sannie got a call from the 'coffee guy'. I thought it was about the mechanic, so I picked it up while Sannie was getting dressed. The guy asked if I was happy with the merchandise and if I wanted to order another package. When I asked if he was talking about capsules, he hung up. I may or may not offended him.”

San crawled closer to you on the mattress. He took your face in the palm of his hand and kissed the whipped cream off. “I’m sorry.”

“I'm not mad. After all, you showed me that my boyfriends could make better coffee than my machine.” You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "However, I don't want you to spend every day sculpting in the kitchen to make me happy. I'd rather have you here with me and the coffee machine do my coffee.”

“That's what we want.” Wooyoung nodded, then leaned his head on your shoulder. He was very happy that you were not angry with them. Though he expected nothing less from your kind, loving heart. “And the coffee machine could be working tomorrow... If San didn't forget again.”

“Hey! This can't happen, I swear! I've been dreaming about this for two days. Even if I had amnesia, I couldn't forget it.”

“I believe you, big boy. I hope you haven't forgotten either that you promised me marathon hugs today.”

“Finish your coffee and you won't get away.” San nodded towards you, then looked at Wooyoung. He winked and smiled mischievously. “None of you will get away.”

For the record, Wooyung didn't intend to. It's well known that sometimes even the lovestruck coffee maker needs a break.

[rainforestakiie]

omega lucifer x omega adam part 03~

i really am enjoying writing this! it's really fun to be honest! haha! i do hope you like it!

lilith finds out lucifer and adams mating. the angels get involved and adam loses a part of himself. poor bean.

Nest of the Damned (Omegaverse Omega/Omega) Part 01. Part 02. Part 03. Part 04. Part 05. Extra 01.

Full Version

"What's that?"

Adam jumped, a startled yelp escaping his lips as a firm hand clamped down on his shoulder. He was yanked back with such force that he nearly lost his balance. His green eyes widened in alarm as he turned to face the towering form of Lilith. The pungent smell of smoke assaulted his senses, making his nose twitch.

"Let go!" he cried, pushing the Alpha woman away. "Don't touch me!"

Lilith's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What's that on the back of your neck? I've never seen it before."

"It-It’s none of your concern," Adam stammered, scrambling to put distance between them. "It has nothing to do with you."

"I bet it will if I ask the Angels," she hissed, her posture bristling with tension.

Adam frowned deeply, standing inches away from her. His instincts screamed at him to flee and hide as her aggressive scent filled the air. Adam longed to return to his safe nest and never come out again. Lilith despised him; she had made that clear from the beginning. The idea of being seen with him, let alone speaking to him, repulsed her. Not that Adam cared anymore.

"Why would you do that?" Adam asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. He swallowed hard, his throat aching as he tried to puff out his chest, showing he wasn't afraid of the Alpha. "Why would you ever get Angels involved in our business? You hate the Angels. You said they’re controlling us."

Lilith's eyes widened in surprise. Adam had never stood up for himself before. Her suspicion deepened as she stepped closer, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her icy blue eyes glared down at him threateningly.

"Did you make Lucifer bite you?" she accused coldly. "How selfish can you be? Forcing yourself on him like that. What did you do? Put on the waterworks again? Is that it?"

Adam shuddered, his skin prickling with anxiety. It was the same accusation she had hurled at him since Lucifer had stopped spending time with her. She blamed him for taking the angel away, but Lucifer had never been hers. He had always been Adam’s guardian Angel.

"No, you're wrong. Lucifer bit me because he loves me," Adam said, trying to keep his voice level, to hide his nerves. "And I love him. We’re mates, so you can’t mate with him anyway."

His heart pounded harshly as he stood up for himself. Adam’s eyes dropped, avoiding Lilith's piercing gaze. He shuffled his feet before finally raising his anxious stare to meet her harsh look. His stomach churned as he saw the intense anger in her eyes, prompting him to take a step back.

Then, without warning, Lilith's hand flew. She slapped Adam harshly across the cheek, causing his head to snap to the side. His eyes were wide and watering, his cheek reddening and undoubtedly bruising. Slowly, he raised a hand to touch the sore spot and looked at Lilith in disbelief.

"Y-You slapped me," he gasped.

Lilith growled, baring her teeth. "You're disgusting! You tricked him into mating with you! How vile!"

"I d-didn't!" Adam cried. "I didn't trick him! We mated because we love one another!"

"You're both Omegas! Omegas can't mate together!" Lilith snapped. "Omegas are supposed to mate with Alphas! I was supposed to mate with Lucifer, not you! He would never want you; you're not an Alpha!"

It was the first time she had yelled at him, and Adam shrank in on himself.

"So tell me!" Lilith demanded, grabbing Adam's arm as he tried to flee. Her fingers dug into his flesh, yanking him back with a force that made him gasp. Her other hand clamped around his neck, nails biting painfully into the sensitive skin at the nape.

Adam screamed from the sudden assault, his hands flying up to grasp her wrist in a desperate attempt to free himself.

"Tell me how you tricked my Omega!" she howled, her voice a feral growl.

Her fingers pressed down even harder on Adam's mating glands, tearing through the tender flesh. He writhed in agony, struggling against her iron grip. Alphas were naturally stronger than Omegas—something Adam had learned the hard way. Lilith's strength was overwhelming, far beyond what he could muster.

"I didn't! I didn't!" Adam chanted, his face contorted in pain. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Let go, please, you're hurting me!"

She practically shook him, dragging him closer with a single hand. "Yes, you did! The moment you presented and Lucifer could no longer spend time with me? What a delightful little consequence! I let it slide before because you were both Omegas, and I figured Lucifer was simply teaching you how to control yourself. But now I see you took advantage of my Omega! You tricked him, manipulated him!"

Another sobbing scream tore from Adam's throat as he trembled in her grasp. His heart pounded in his chest, and his vision blurred with tears. The pain was excruciating, both physically and emotionally. He wanted to disappear, to escape the torment and cruelty that Lilith inflicted upon him.

Waves of ruby red blood were beginning to run down Adam’s skin. He clenched his eyes shut tightly, grinding his teeth together as Lilith began to rip out his mating glands. Tearing out the claiming mark Lucifer had placed upon him. His vision blurred with white and lightning striking across his eyes. 

Suddenly, Lilith was forcefully pulled away, leaving Adam to release a heart-wrenching sob. He crumbled to his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks like rivulets of sorrow. Gentle hands cradled him, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. Soft white wings cocooned around him, guiding him further away.

"What have you done?" Lucifer hissed, his voice dripping with venom as he glared daggers at the Alpha. "Why did you attack Adam?!"

Lilith recoiled in shock, not expecting Lucifer's furious outburst. She thrust her blood-stained hand out with a feral growl. "He claims you mated him! That can't be true! You're both Omegas! Omegas can't be together like that! He tricked you, didn't he?!"

Cupping the back of Adam's neck, a radiant blend of blue and gold light shimmered around Lucifer's hand. He did his best to heal the inflicted wound, biting his bottom lip as he drew Adam closer. Uncertainty gnawed at him; he wasn't sure if he could fully heal Adam's Omega glands—they might be permanently damaged...

"Lucifer?!" Lilith howled in rage. "It's the truth, isn't it?! He manipulated you, didn't he?! He played weak and pathetic to lure you in because that's so like him, isn't it!"

Lucifer frowned deeply. "Lilith, calm down. You're not thinking straight. Do you realize what you've just done? You've harmed Adam, an Omega! That's punishable."

Swallowing thickly, Lucifer's eyes lifted to the sky. It was already growing dark and stormy. His sharp teeth clenched together as he saw glimpses and sparks of gold appearing. His siblings would be here soon; Adam's pain had alerted them to trouble in Eden, just as his pain and screams had alerted Lucifer. The Archangel had been waiting for Adam in their nest and had grown worried when his Omega mate hadn't returned.

Lucifer cursed himself. This was all his fault. He knew he should have gone with Adam. He knew something like this would happen eventually. All Alphas were headstrong, especially when they felt threatened. It was ridiculous and it was his fault. If only Lucifer hadn't spent all that time with Lilith! Granted, he only did it so Lilith wouldn't have noticed Adam presenting! Lucifer hadn't wanted her to realise how beautiful and gorgeous Adam was. And his selfish actions had led to Adam being hurt.

"It's okay! It's okay, it doesn't matter, does it?" Lilith wheezed, approaching anxiously. "Adam doesn't have his stupid mating glands anymore, you're no longer tied to him! I've fixed it, your Alpha has fixed it! It'll be okay, we can still mate, can't we?"

"No!" Lucifer snarled, causing the Alpha to freeze in her tracks. "Why would I ever want to mate with you? After what you've just done? To my mate!"

A screech escaped Lilith. "Don't call him your mate! He is not your mate! I am!"

"No, you're not!" the Omega Archangel practically screamed in return. "You'll never be my mate! I'm in love with Adam, I have been since before you were even created! I wanted Adam, I still only want him!"

"You're lying!" Lilith screamed even louder, her voice echoing over the Garden of Eden. "We belong together! I'm an Alpha and you're an Omega! Omegas are not supposed to mate! He used you!"

Adam blinked his teary green eyes, lifting his head from Lucifer's chest to look at the deranged Alpha. He shivered as he noticed the lights flickering in the darkening sky. His hands gripped tightly at Lucifer's robes.

"L-Lucifer, the sky..." he whispered.

"I know," Lucifer said softly, choosing to ignore the deranged Alpha. He lifted his hand to check the back of Adam's neck, biting back a growl of anger. It had stopped bleeding, but it definitely looked like it would scar over his mating glands. "It'll be alright. I'll protect you...I'm so sorry I wasn't here..."

Adam smiled weakly up at him. "It's not your fault...s-she snuck up on me when I wasn't looking."

"Still, I should have been with you." Lucifer nuzzled his face to Adam's, releasing a warm rumble of comfort.

Lilith's eyes widened at the display, her rage intensifying tenfold. Her hands tensed at her sides, nails digging into her palms. Her chest heaved as she hissed with pure anger, her vision turning acid white.

"How dare you," she snarled from the back of her throat. "How dare you mate with fucking Adam?!"

Adrunply familiar figures appeared in the sky. Lucifer eyed them as they approached, pressing his lips together as he met Michael's gaze. He glared, tightening his protective hold around Adam.

"Lilith, whatever is the matter?" Sera questioned, landing beside her. Her entire being shuddered as she sensed the thick tension in the air. She tried to keep smiling, but Lucifer saw it falter from the scent Lilith was releasing.

Lilith bared her teeth at the angel and pointed a threatening finger towards the two Omegas. "Lucifer mated with Adam!"

"What?" Sera gasped loudly, her eyes growing wide. She turned her head to stare at Lucifer in disbelief.

Michael landed before Lucifer but kept a small distance between himself and the Omega. "Is that true? Lucifer, what did you do?"

"We love each other," Lucifer defended, pressing Adam's head into his chest. His wings spread and arched around them, shielding Adam from the other angels.

Eyebrows raising, Michael's mouth opened but then closed. He stared down at his elder brother as if his brain had short-circuited until finally he blinked, and a sickening expression of disappointment took over. As if he had the right to be disappointed in Lucifer.

"Lucifer, you didn't..." Gabriel gasped.

"What have you done?" Sera huffed, her anger beginning to spike, but she quickly settled herself before it could show. "Omegas do not mate with one another. That poor man, you've influenced his mind, haven't you?"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at the suggestion, baring his sharp teeth threateningly at her. "Don't talk as if you know anything! Don't forget your place, Sera."

"Did you bite him?" Michael stepped in once more before Sera could speak. He stared back at Lucifer coldly, taking a daring step forward, but then retreated when Lucifer released a strong wave of his own power. "Did you mark him, Lucifer? Tell us, did you bear a claiming mark upon the first human Omega?"

Lilith shuddered, puffing up in her frustration. "Yes! He did! I saw it!"

"Lucifer..." Michael closed his eyes in disappointment. "How could you be so selfish and foolish? You've spoiled all our hard work. You were supposed to watch over him, not manipulate him. You have sent us back not days, but months, maybe even years.”

"I did not manipulate him!" Lucifer shot back heatedly. "I love him, and he loves me! We mated out of love! It's too late to undo it—we've marked one another!"

Sera gasped at his words. "You mean to say you had Adam bite you in return? Lucifer! How could you do that? This means Adam will never be able to mate with Lilith now."

"That's the point!" Lucifer snapped angrily. "We want to be together!"

"Omegas are not meant to be together like this!" Sera replied sternly.

Lucifer bristled at her words. "Who says so? Adam and I are the only two Omegas in existence! It's not written anywhere that Omegas can't be together! Father isn't punishing us for mating either!"

That gave Sera pause. She looked towards the skies where their Father, God Himself, would typically be watching over them. There were no storm clouds, no lightning strikes, no booming voice of wrath. Sera and Michael shared a look, coming to the realization that Lucifer was annoyingly correct. Their Father was not intervening, deeming it unnecessary to deal with.

"What should we do?" Sera asked Michael. "Without Adam, Lilith has no mate. She is companionless. She cannot breed without an Omega."

Michael sighed, his eyes flickering towards Lucifer and Adam briefly. "I'm not sure."

Breathing softly, Adam leaned against Lucifer, listening to the soft beat of his angelic heart. It was so soothing, luring him into a safe slumber if he wasn't careful. His skin prickled as he realized the danger had passed. The Angels had registered that Adam could not mate with Lilith anymore. While Adam didn't understand the true ins and outs of it, he was still relieved. Relieved that no one was going to take him away from Lucifer now.

As if he could read his mind, Lucifer hugged him tightly. Adam tilted his head back, meeting Lucifer's eyes before bravely standing up. Lucifer's lush white wings shuddered, clearly wanting to hold onto him and never let go.

"Make her a new Omega," Adam said shakily. He felt light-headed from the blood loss and just wanted to curl up in his nest, but he fought to stay upright. "Make Lilith a new Omega. I love Lucifer, and that's okay."

Immediately, Lucifer beamed and shot to his feet, his gentle hand grabbing Adam's and squeezing lovingly. He purposefully ignored the disapproving stares from Michael and Sera.

"Adam, it is not that simple..." Sera said softly, lowering her voice gently as she looked towards him.

Adam shook his head. "You... You said you would make me a new Alpha if Lilith didn't like me, remember?"

It was the first time Lucifer had heard about this. His eyes widened, and he looked towards Michael to see if his younger brother knew of the plan. However, Michael purposefully avoided his stare. Lucifer scoffed—how ironic. How laughable. They had a plan if Lilith chose to mate with him instead, yet they didn't notice him spending time with Adam?

"You said—you said you could make me a new Alpha. One better than Lilith, kinder and gentler," Adam breathed out. He felt comfort in Lucifer's presence, holding his hand, loving him. It made his whole body buzz that Lucifer had chosen him. "Then you can do the same for Lilith. You can make Lilith a new mate, a new Omega. Just like you were planning to do for me."

Sera's mouth gaped like a fish out of water. Finally, she closed her lips and slowly nodded, her eyes returning to Michael. "We could."

"It might be the only way now," Michael agreed.

"Then I shall gather the preparations," Sera said, appearing somewhat tired. Her eyes glanced back to Adam, appearing rather hurt that he hadn't followed the plan she had made for him.

Adam always knew Sera cared for him. He always knew she had nurtured him sweetly and kindly, almost like a mother would with her child. But did it really matter if he didn't mate with an Alpha? Shouldn't Sera be happy that he was happy? Adam was confused and so sleepy.

"Adam, are you sure about this?" she suddenly asked, looking as if she was about to approach them but didn't when Lucifer hissed warningly. "It's not too late to change your mind. I-I'm sure we can figure something out. You don't have to stay mated to an Omega."

Lucifer bristled at the insult of a suggestion.

"I'm happy," Adam mumbled. "You should be happy, I am happy. I don't care that Lucifer is an Omega. I care that he is nice to me, that he cares about me, that he doesn't make me feel frightened. I love him and—and that should be all that matters. G-God said..."

Adam paused, nibbling his bottom lip shyly. The moment he mentioned the Angels' father, they all looked at him. Even Lucifer was staring at him curiously.

"Father spoke to you?" Michael asked in surprise.

"Sometimes," Adam said meekly. "God said I should mate with the one who makes me feel the most comfortable. I should mate for love and that it was okay to not mate with Lilith."

Michael appeared to be debating Adam's words. He even checked the skies, knowing that God never accepted any lie about Him. But when he saw no sign of a lie, he accepted that Adam was telling the truth.

"Brother," he began darkly, looking towards Lucifer. "Despite how it may seem, you have still involved yourself in a way you should not have. You have still betrayed the very foundation you were made for."

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer scoffed. "Oh, spare me the righteousness. Just tell me what punishment you deem worthy of me, oh mighty one."

Michael narrowed his eyes at the taunting comment. "You are banished from Heaven. You will live out the rest of your life in Eden, with your mate. You will watch as Adam grows old and eventually dies."

That didn't sound so bad. Granted, the thought of Adam growing old and dying was horrible. It made Lucifer's stomach coil, but it wasn't a terrible thought. It was practically what both he and Adam wanted: to live out the rest of their days together in peace, happily mated without anybody bothering them.

"Then, when the day comes where Adam passes away and is welcomed into Heaven, you will not be allowed to reunite with him," Michael added cruelly. "You will forever be banished from Heaven's gates, knowing where your mate is but never being allowed to see him again."

"You can't do that!" Lucifer exclaimed in disbelief. Even Sera appeared surprised by the punishment. "You can't keep us apart like that!"

"It's simple, Lucifer. You have chosen to defy us and soil the first human Omega," Michael grunted coldly. "Therefore, I suggest you enjoy the time you both have together, as human lives are not very long. I'm afraid to say, you no longer have an eternity together."

Lucifer's eyes widened in shock. "You... You really are an asshole. I’ll make you regret this.”

“Be thankful I am being merciful on your crime, Lucifer.”

Sera gazed at Adam with pity. 

~#~

Humming a gentle melody, Adam toyed with the soft feathers lining their cozy nest. Lucifer's beautiful wings had recently shed, making way for new feathers to grow. His older feathers were lovingly incorporated into their nest. Adam smiled as he held one aloft, the tip of the white and blue feather playfully tickling his nose.

The Omega lay on his stomach, nestled snugly in their warm sanctuary, waiting for Lucifer's return. It had been a few months since their love had been revealed to the Angels, resulting in Lucifer's banishment from Heaven. But it wasn't so bad. It meant they could be together without a care, and Lucifer no longer had to fulfill his angelic duties. They spent every moment together, wrapped in each other's arms, talking, laughing, and making love.

"Adam~" Lucifer's voice called out as he landed just beyond the wall of purple flowers.

Immediately, the human Omega sprang to his feet, a radiant smile lighting up his face. As soon as Lucifer ducked beneath the cascading Wisteria blooms, Adam launched himself into his mate's arms.

"Luci! You're back!" he exclaimed joyfully.

Lucifer's arms encircled Adam's waist, while the human's arms looped around Lucifer's shoulders. His wings fluttered with excitement as Lucifer spun him around, dancing on one foot while the other kicked up into the air. They tumbled back onto the nest, pulling Adam down with him.

They landed in their nest, laughing together.

"Were you lonely without me?" Lucifer teased, rolling onto his side with one arm tucked under Adam's head and the other gently cradling his shoulder. His fingers threaded through Adam's brown and red hair, pushing it back from his enchanting green eyes.

"I'm always lonely when you leave," Adam murmured, smiling as he pulled the Archangel into a deep, tender kiss. “I don’t like it when you leave.”

"I don't like leaving you either," Lucifer murmured, returning the kiss. Their warm bodies curled together, a perfect fit. He tenderly caressed Adam's cheek, his fingers dancing lightly over the soft skin. "Are you feeling alright?"

A soft blush colored Adam's cheeks as he weakly touched the back of his neck. Since Lilith had cruelly ripped out his mating glands, Adam had been a shadow of his former self. His body struggled to cope with the loss of such an important part. Lucifer had done everything he could to care for him, but there was only so much he could do. Though he had initially healed the wound, he couldn't restore the glands...

"I'm... okay. Really," Adam whispered softly.

Lucifer sniffled and pressed delicate kisses along Adam's face, neck, and shoulders, his hand still gently caressing Adam's cheek. He leaned forward, nuzzling into Adam and releasing a sweet, comforting Omega scent.

"Do you smell that?" he whispered tenderly.

Adam blinked slowly, his eyes beginning to water. He smiled weakly, shrugging helplessly. "No. I... I'm sorry. I still don't smell anything..."

"You will!" Lucifer promised, though they both knew it was a lie. "I-I'm sure you will, in time. So - so don't worry, okay? Just rest, everything will come back in time."

Humming quietly, Adam nuzzled into Lucifer's throat. He breathed in gently, wishing he could still smell Lucifer's Omega scent, still feel the connection that once pulsed so strongly between them. He could sense a faint tingle in the back of his mind, a reminder that he was still mated to Lucifer, but it was nowhere near as intense as it had been. Lilith, whether she knew it or not, had caused irrevocable damage...

"I love you," Lucifer said seriously. "Even if you can't feel our connection anymore, I want you to know I still love you. More than anything."

Adam cooed, basking in the love and attention. "I love you too. I don't regret anything, Lucifer. I hope you know that."

"Are you sure?" the Archangel asked brokenly. "Because of me, you've lost your Omega glands. If... if I never mated you... you wouldn't have lost that part of you..."

Shaking his head, Adam cupped Lucifer's rosy cheeks and pulled him into another kiss. "I never regret anything, really I don't. Even if I knew I was going to lose my Omega glands, I would have still chosen to be with you. I still would have mated with you."

Lucifer released a relieved, loving sound, akin to a contented preen.

“I love you. I love you so-so much.” Lucifer cooed, rolling them over so he was on top. “More than anything. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Adam grinned cheekily, reaching up to nip at Lucifer’s jaw. “I love you sooooo much~”

Giggles bounced between the two Omegas as they began to share deeper and longer kisses. Tongues beginning to play cat and mouse. Hands started to wonder, touching one another in places that only each other could touch. Gasps, whimpers and moans filling the air in a loving melody. Their breath hitching and saliva bridges appear between their lips, among other areas. 

The rushing pleasure formed like a bubble between their legs. Their mouths stayed pressed together as they rocked their hips together, rubbing their Omega-hoods back and forth, increasing the delicious friction between them. Just as the bubble finally popped and the pair released matching cries, collapsing onto the nest in a mess. Their sweat mixes together. 

Lucifer buried his face in Adam’s throat, listening to his beloved pant and wheeze. He missed the intoxicating scent Adam used to release whenever he reached his peak—now there was nothing. He knew it wasn’t Adam’s fault; it was his own. He hadn’t been there to protect Adam, to keep Lilith from getting close...

A shiver ran through him as Adam began to caress the back of his neck. Lucifer’s warm lips trailed along Adam’s throat, planting butterfly kisses until they reached his mouth again.

“I don’t smell like anything, do I…” Adam said meekly.

Lucifer’s blue eyes grew sad, though a soft smile graced his lips. “It’s alright. I don’t need to scent you to know you enjoyed yourself. It doesn’t bother me that much, honestly.”

“Yes, it does…” Adam mumbled quietly, turning his head away. “It bothers me that I can’t…that I can’t scent you. I want to so badly, but it’s just nothing.”

Cradling Adam’s cheek, Lucifer kissed him slowly and deeply. “It’ll get better with time. We just need time. It’ll be fine.”

“I hope so…” Adam said with a hopeful smile. “But as long as you’re with me, I think I’ll be fine.”

"That's right. As long as we're together, we'll be okay. We'll get better, together. We will help one another be better." Lucifer cooed, pressing another kiss to Adam's lips. "Everything will get better as long as we're together."

They would be together, forever. No matter what Michael said. When Adam eventually died and became an Angel, Lucifer would find his way into Heaven. They would reunite and be together. Nobody, absolutely nobody, would get between them.

For hours, neither spoke. They cuddled together, Lucifer trailing his fingers up Adam's arm, tracing the delicate blue veins. Every so often, they shared a warm, sweet kiss.

"Oh, I saw Lilith's new Omega this morning," Adam suddenly hummed, snuggling even closer against Lucifer. He nuzzled his head into his Archangel's throat.

Lucifer tensed up, his arms tightening protectively around Adam as if the Alpha might appear from nowhere. He couldn’t bear the thought of Adam being attacked again. "I thought we agreed you'd stay away from Lilith."

"We did and I did." Adam smiled in amusement. "I saw the new Omega, not Lilith. Calm down, I didn't approach her. She was across the river anyway."

"Oh..." Lucifer relaxed and let out a sigh of relief. He laid his head against Adam's with a frown. "They made Lilith a female Omega?"

Adam released a purr at the hug. "Yeah. I thought it was strange too, but she looked really pretty. She had bright red hair, super long too! Not as long as Lilith's, but waist-length. And brown eyes! She had these odd specks all over her."

"Freckles." Lucifer said softly. "You're talking about freckles."

Adam yawned softly, his eyelids growing heavy once more. "Ah, freckles. Yes. She had freckles. I think she saw me and waved, but I left."

"That's good. I want you to stay away from her too," Lucifer muttered darkly. His possessive side began to emerge again. He knew there was no reason to worry, but he did. The thought of Adam finding this new red-haired Omega more beautiful than himself was unbearable.

"Okay." Adam pouted. "Why?"

Lucifer eyed his pretty Omega from the corner of his eye. "If I happened to see her and thought she was pretty, then came and told you about it...would you like that?"

"No." Adam said immediately, his eyes narrowing. He lifted himself up slightly and frowned deeply. "I don't like that thought. Oh, I see what you mean. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Upset me?" Lucifer chuckled, sitting up as well and cupping Adam's face. "No, Adam, I'm jealous. I love you so much that I can't stand the thought of you liking anybody else. I don't want you to care for anyone else. I don't want you thinking anybody is pretty but me."

An awestruck expression took over Adam's face. His green eyes glittered with amusement and love. Immediately, Adam slipped onto Lucifer's lap and wrapped his arms around Lucifer's shoulders. "I will never think anybody is more beautiful than you, Luci~ You're the most gorgeous person I have ever met! I think you're wonderful, amazing, and I would never want anybody but you~"

"I like those words~" Lucifer purred, kissing him again. "I want to be the only thing on your mind~"

"And you are! Always, only you!" Adam preened, running his hands down Lucifer's back. "I'm yours. Only yours."

“Good.”

[yellow-computer-mouse]

fuck it incorrect quotes

Horror: "I lost a bet." Horror: The second-most ominous phrase in existence. Killer: What's the first? Horror: "Let's make a bet."

Horror: I am a ninja. Cross: No, you’re not. Horror: Did you see me do that? Cross: Do what? Horror: Exactly.

Killer: Two truths and a lie, I’ll start! Killer: I’ve killed a man, I will kill again, and it burns when I pee. Nightmare, visibly nervous: I don’t- I don’t like this game.

Killer: BE A BETTER PERSON! Dust: WHY?! Killer: BECAUSE SOMEONE NEEDS TO HAVE MORALS IN THIS RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SURE AS FUCK AIN'T GONNA BE ME, SWEETHEART!

*Killer is helping Nightmare break out of prison* Killer: Sooo… Does this make us partners in crime? Nightmare: Don’t push it. Killer: Oh my gosh, we can be like Harley Quinn and the Joker! Nightmare: If you don’t stop talking, they’re adding “murder” to the charges.

Nightmare, to Cross: Please, picking locks is my specialty. Nightmare: *throws a brick through the window* Nightmare: Okay, let’s go.

Horror: What’s your biggest fear? Dust: I am incredibly arachnophobic. Horror, under their breath: You don’t want spiders to get married?

Killer: Are you alright? Nightmare: Short answer or long answer? Killer: Short? Nightmare: No. Killer: Long? Nightmare: Nooooooo.

Cross, gently nudging Horror aside with their foot: Horror, move out of the way so I don’t trip on you. Horror, her eyes enormous: You kick Horror? You kick her body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for Cross! Jail for Cross for one thousand years!

Nightmare, rushing into the room: It’s terrible, just terrible! I am so upset! Cross: Nightmare, dude, sit down! Tell us all about it. Dust, would you get Nightmare some water? Dust: What is he gonna do with water? Has water ever made you feel better when you were upset? Have you ever heard anyone say, “Thank God, the water’s here!”?

Killer: Cross, we tried things your way. Cross: No, we didn't. Killer: I did it in my head and it didn't work.

Cross: You spent all our money on THIS?? Dust, putting tiny raincoats on ducklings: They live outside. They need this.

Cross: Okay, who's turn is it to give the pep talk? Horror: It's Dust's turn. Dust: Don't die. Killer, wiping a tear away: Truly inspirational.

Killer: How do ethical philosophers feel about murder? Cross: Well, it’s frowned upon. Killer: Okay, but what if the reason you want to murder someone is to make your life easier? Killer: That’s okay, right?

Dust, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing? Nightmare: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language. Dust: Dust: Water you doing?

Killer: And here we see Dust and Horror in their natural habitat. Texting each other variations of the word "garlic bread" to try to make each other laugh. Dust: Gaelic bread. Horror: Grueling brad. Dust: Ha ha, glamorous beans.

Dust: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities. Dust, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

Nightmare: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart? Dream: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am! Nightmare: Mean.

Nightmare: You're alive. Dream: There's no need to sound so disappointed.

Nightmare: I got an idea! Dream: Does it involve breaking the law? Nightmare: By now don’t you think that’s a given? Dream: I was just trying to be optimistic. Nightmare: Don’t bother.

Nightmare: Why is it that I always lose things as soon as I need them? Dream: Actually, it's not that you lose things when you need them. You lose them a while before. It's just that you LOOK for things when you need them. Nightmare: Okay yeah thanks Dream, that's great but WHERE'S THE FUCKING FIRST AID KIT?

Nightmare: Hey, thanks for checking in, I’m ✨still a piece of garbage✨

Error: I think I should be allowed on ghost hunter tv shows. Blue: I think that would be dangerous for the ghosts.

Nightmare: We’re going to defeat you with the power of friendship. Dream: We’re not friends. Nightmare, holding an axe: We’re going to defeat you with the power of incredible violence.

Nightmare, writing in his diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

Nightmare, holding a kettle: Coffee or tea? Dream: Tea. Nightmare: Wrong. It's coffee.

Nightmare: I failed my safety training course today. Dream: Why, what happened? Nightmare: Well one of the questions was "In case of a fire, what steps would you take?" Dream: And? Nightmare: Well apparently "FUCKING LARGE ONES" isn't an acceptable answer.

Ink: Welcome to my very first vlog, in which I try different hair products! Ink: *sprays hairspray in their mouth* Ink: Well, right off the bat I can tell you this one is not very good.

Nightmare: I won a new phone in a race. Dream: Huh? What kind of race lets you win a phone, Nightmare? Nightmare: A race between the store owner, the cop, and me.

Dream: Why are you on fire? Nightmare: This is just how my day is going.

Nightmare: You know, I used to play back in my gory days. Dream: You mean glory days? Nightmare: Ah, that too.

Blue: I trusted you! Error: Why?

Ink: Well, needless to say. Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.

[respectthepetty]

Jack & Joker - Wild Ass Theories

Yin and War are hot. I wanted to start with a fact.

Also, Jennie is in the next episode, so our girl is living her best life!

Theory #1 - The heist happens soon

Random: The two guys Hope sends to go after Joke are the same men who end up tied up by this woman and her people.

Hope seems to be from Jack's neighborhood in the opening scenes, so did Jack teach him how to fight and become an enforcer?

I only have a thirty image limit, but this is vision from the trailer:

Jack goes to collect money from Tattoo and Hoy, but lets them off easy

Later, Hope hits Tattoo with a pan because he feels Jack took it too easy on him

Hoy and Tattoo try to ambush Joke because they think he is the only one who can get Jack out of this business

Joke flips the tables and ties up Hoy while asking more questions

They plan the heist because they need money and to get Jack's attention

Hoy and Tattoo are seen doing something to Aran's bag,

And Joke apparently takes the necklace right off of Aran's neck when the model passes out on the runway with the bag and Tattoo right there, so wouldn't Hope realize who is involved?

So is this why Joke goes to hide out at Jack's house after he gets away from the fight with him? And Hoy and Tattoo spill the beans about where Joke is and this is this why Hope and Jack are fighting outside of Jack's house? I think so!

Theory #2 - Rosé is going to fund Jack's school

The sweet rich girl wants to eliminate debt and help the poor. Plus Jack, at some point, stands in as her bodyguard. That's all I got. *shrugs* It's a vibe.

Theory #3 - Joke's hand tattoo is Jack

Not really a theory but more of an observation because Jack's best skill is sleight of hand. He was able to steal Carbon's wallet without Carbon noticing which is why Carbon couldn't find it to pay.

And Joke switched the tests by distracting the boy when he took his wallet, only two snatch the answer keys when the boy starting arguing with the other one.

Joke has been at this for a bit because he had several aliases.

And the reporter said previous to the most recent store robbery, Joke had committed five other robberies.

And every time, he left behind his signature frowning face symbol, but five years later, he has as smiling face tattooed on his hand, which, once again, is his biggest asset, so does he have it to remind him to do better whenever he wants to use his skills again?

Because he once ruined the happy boy's life who is the basis for the tattoo?

But on his other wrist he has both the frowning face and the smiling face depending on how it is viewed, so is it both of them?

Not related, Joke has a tattoo on his chest. Zoom in.

Theory #4 - Jack will give Joke the ring

Jack gave the boss this ring as collateral, and it has sentimental value since the opening credits show it has two names on the inside (his parents) and Jack's on the outside. In the final scene of the trailer when Joke kisses Jack (after opening his martial arts studio?), there is a glimmer on Joke's hand that has the smiling face tattoo. I think it's the ring!

Theory #5 - Colors

The boys aren't really a Black Brooder and a Red Rascal.

Like they are now, but they aren't. *squints*

Jack was a Cyan Cutie.

He was loyal.

He was chill and happy. (shirt reads "happy place, happy place" over his heart)

Joke was a "standard" blue boy who was intelligent in overlooked ways.

But Joke's red shows up when he is Joker because his braces were red in the exam con.

And his tie was red in the bank con.

So I think even though times have changed, and they have absorbed their current colors, the blue will still be shared between them.

Because it will show up again.

Theory #6 - Aran is Tattoo's boyfriend

I want Mark and Prom to kiss so badly in this show that I'm going to single-handedly sail this ship, so I think when Hoy and Tattoo surprise Jack and Joke, Aran is standing next to Tattoo. It doesn't make sense if they robbed him, but he is the only extra boy with an earring in his left ear, the hair lines up, and he would wear a shirt like that.

Give them to me!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

A random thought, during the Mr. Qi's Crop Challenge (you know the one were you have to plant and shipped 500 Qi Beans) how will the SDV/SVE Bachelors gonna react to their lover (the Farmer) planting this weird looking crop that looks like a blueberry with sunglasses across the farm fields. 😂

Ah, Qi beans... Probably my least favourite quest, because spending a whole month growing this stuff, and also getting these fucking beans instead of cool gifts in chests or fish.... Ugh. Oh well, sorry for that 😅

Even though this fruit is annoying to me, the ask itself regarding the reactions of others to it is pretty funny, hee hee. Thanks for the ask, and enjoy! 🫰💖

_________________________________________

SDV/SVE bachelors react to the Qi fruit:

"Looks creepy..... And cool, by the way. What did you do to make them grow like that?" Sebastian's spouse is a virtuoso at growing all sorts of unusual crops, and he thinks it's a mega cool ability. Just a week ago they ate a salad made from an 'ancient fruit', and the day before yesterday they cut up a giant mushroom crop that was the size of a large pumpkin (even though Sebby's doesn't like shrooms, it was still cool!). Now it's the weird fruit with sunglasses. He wonder what unusual plant Farmer will grow tomorrow...

"Oh, I know! Are those fruits and vegetables that grow in different shapes?" Sam recently watched a video about gardeners who grow square watermelons or tomatoes in the shape of hearts using plastic moulds. So the guitarist reckoned his spouse had decided to join the trend too. A strange choice, yeah, but hey - bonus for cool sunglasses! And what does this 'Qi' fruit taste like? Looks like a giant blue melon, Sammy wouldn't mind a tasty snack. Anyway, he doesn't know much about gardening himself, so he'll leave that to Farmer.

"Did you buy sunglasses for every fruit you grow or what?" And tell us, dear Alex - why would your beloved Farmer do that? These things maybe look like sunglasses, but are hardly sunglasses. But who knows? It's definitely an unfamiliar fruit for an athlete, especially compared to what his grandmother Evelyn used to grow in the community garden all the time. But if it's edible and full of vitamins (no), then Alex doesn't really care about the look of the Qi fruit. "Hey, even if this tastes awful, we'll have plenty of pairs of sunglasses!"

"That's some ugly ass fruit right here. Do people really eat that stuff now?" Truth be told, while working at JojaMart, Shane had managed to see stranger products labelled as 'novelty'. This applied not only to obscure sauces and snacks of dubious origin, but also to fruits and vegetables. The blue colour of the "Qi" fruit Farmer grew generally gave Shane the idea that his spouse had purchased the seeds just from Joja.co. It looked strange, but Shane didn't even mind tasting it. If it's edible at all. This fruit certainly doesn't get any worse than Joja's 'special' sauce for nachos, of that he's sure.

"Honey, are you sure it's safe to eat?" Every time another crop of obscure origin ripens on the farm, Harvey's heart begins to pound with worry. What if it's poisonous? What if it's not handled properly and you could get food poisoning? Why is it such a strange shape? "Farmer, please..." The poor doctor goes through all the books on vegetables, fruits and berries, hoping to find some information about this Qi fruit and whether it's okay to eat it (spoiler - to no avail). Either it's another "healthy" product from Joja or something else. Either way, Harvey will be sceptical, to say the least.

"...If I understand correctly, my soul, this is our dinner for today?" Elliott could have sworn the fruit had just winked at him! The writer had heard that some farmers and gardeners deliberately grow their crops in a variety of shapes to make them look extravagant and sell them for more money, but... Of all the shapes, his spouse chose the face... But maybe that's the kind of crop that's in high demand on market right now. Elliott hoped that if they were to bake strudel with this 'Qi' fruit today, it would taste better than it looked. Also... sunglasses?

"Hmm, I wonder... Where exactly did you get those seeds, my love?" It is not appropriate for Lance to judge the strange crop that Farmer has grown, when the adventurer himself has a monster crop ripening in a corner on the farm, with an appearance similar to a huge eyeball. Nevertheless, this strange fruit arouses a share of suspicion in the pink-haired man. Something is not right here.... If his dear spouse doesn't mind, Lance would also like to take a look at this fruit, for he is very curious to know if this crop has any magical properties. Or anything that might threaten him or Farmer.

"This... thing is unnatural. What in the name of all spirits did you grow this abomination from?" Magnus's whole gut screams that this is not just a fruit, but the spawn of a dangerous mage or witch. Thin threads of dark magic emanate from this fruit, and the wizard certainly doesn't like Farmer being in contact with that magic. "Eat it? Absolutely not! And is it even edible?" A worried Magnus questions his spouse about who gave them these seeds and why. Hearing the name 'Qi', he sighs heavily. Mr. Qi. Of course... This name definitely promises a lot of chaos for everyone.

"Erm... That's wonderful, darling! You've managed to grow this, um... What's it called again?" Victor had spent two whole days in the town library and looked all sorts of books at home - not a single mention, about this mysterious 'Qi fruit'. It's not, to tell the truth, the strangest thing Farmer grew in their fertile fields (monster crops will always be at the top of the list for strangeness. Especially the one with the giant eyeball). Maybe it's some new fruit his spouse has discovered? Victor is sure the Farmer knows what they're doing. But yeah, he's supportive.

[itisme-rosie]

-- displays of affection; james potter, sirius black, remus lupin x reader (separately) wherein they are affectionate in the most irritating (lovingly said) ways possible.

cw: fluff!! cursing (the colorful language kind)

[ review for the math exam? no, fluff >>. ]

masterlist | rules

[ james potter ]

"you, sir, are staring" i muse, not bothering to lift my head to meet james' stare that burned holes into the side of my head, "any reason in particular as to why?"

"i don't know what you're talking about," he murmurs back, and from the corner of my eye, i see that he didn't shift away from me in his seat. james remained leaning on his folded arms against the table, not turning his eyes away from me, leaning even closer if that was possible.

i reach out one hand, the other flipping through the tome in search of the chapter we had to read for our history class to pat the top of his head, even lightly pinching his cheek, much to his chagrin.

"there, there, you big baby," i laugh quietly, thumbing over his cheek in an attempt to soothe him but he only pouts frowns even more.

"remus was right," i hum and he perks up a little at that, only for his face to scrunch up a little.

"our moony's always right," he huffs, "it's just a matter of what he's right about,"

"i don't know, you might not like what he's right about this time, and i am not about to be in the middle of a debate between you two,"

"it can't be that bad,"

"- is exactly what you said when he warned you about the bertie bott's every flavor bean, you know, the spinach flavored one, and you were so insistent that it was mint just because it was green, and he said spinach and mint were 2 different shades of green and you still ate it and you wouldn't talk to him until -"

"alright! alright!" james waves his hands around, hurriedly rushing to my side to clamp a hand over my mouth, "i got your point," he drops his hand with a sigh - albeit a very dramatic one, "perhaps it is better if i never know,"

and down back on the table his head goes, and my hand shoots out to run my fingers through his hair, smoothing it out a little.

"there, there, jamesie," i laugh as quietly as i could in the middle of the library, "all remus was right about is how pouty and clingy you get when you're tired,"

[ sirius black ]

"i despise you,"

"really? can't tell from that - ow - gorilla grip you have on my arm,"

"this is the last date i am ever letting you take me on - you know i despise mazes almost as much as i despise you - you, i despise most of all, top 1 on the list of things i despise,"

"don't worry darling," he muses, the circulation in his arm slowly getting cut off from how tightly you were clinging to him, "i won't let anyone get ya,"

"and also," he moves his head so he could whisper in your ear, "kinda nice that i'm number 1 at something in your life,"

"you're hopeless,"

"hopelessly in love -"

"now you just sound like james, cut it out, black,"

"that's my best mate you're insulting," sirius gasps with false offense, his hand on his chest, "besides, where do you think he learned it from?"

"birds of a feather indeed," i manange to half joke before one of the maze actors pop out, prompting a scream that dies out quickly upon realizing that sirius had begun laughing.

"i hate, hate, hate you," you grumble once more, detaching from his arm so you could swat at him. multiple times. multiple enough times that the actor that had been standing awkwardly beside you both after scaring you had coughed and retreated back behind a particularly tall haystack.

"you scared the poor man away, love," sirius barely mananges to speak through his wheezing laughter.

"it's only right, he scared the shit out of me,"

"oh i'm sorry my love," your boyfriend notices how you tremble a little, a small smile cracking his lips when he notices your ever so nonthreatening and adorable demeanor with the matching clenched fists at your sides and he embraces you tightly, rocking you both back and forth, "let's look for the guide and get you out of here, yeah?"

"you are never planning our dates again," you sniffle, from the cold or otherwise, it didn't quite matter so much anymore.

sirius tilts his head so you two were face to face, lightly bumping his nose with yours as a silent apology, "you're in charge, boss," he quips, kissing the tip of your nose and grinning when you start to smile.

[ remus lupin ]

remus never understood the appeal of beanbag chairs.

he sits on them, of course, and he finds them rather comfortable, but the problem lies upon when you're sitting on them.

you sit on them religiously, on one in particular - it had been a gift from your family over the holidays and it's been permanently attached to your behind. remus finds the attachment endearing, of couse. moreso the strange positions he finds you in when he stumbles across you sprawled on it and asleep, but he'd never admit to that.

if there was one thing he enjoyed more than that was cuddling close to you while he read and contemplated life and right now, all he got was patting your head while he laid on a couch in the empty common room, staring up at the ceiling and the details painted onto it while you stayed seated on the beanbag chair on the floor, head bowed while you went over your essay for the hundredth time.

your neck cramps a little, so you adjust how you sat, moving your neck a little and remus - dear, sweet, perceptive remus - gently runs his thumb over the back of your neck, right where the cramp was, and you groan.

"oh, that's the stuff,"

moony chuckles, concern veiled behind his casual tone, "you're awfully tense darling,"

"nonsense," you murmur, head and neck going limp as you ease into his gentle movements, "i'm quite alright, just...need a break,"

"well, if you didn't slouch -" he begins playfully.

"you, remus john lupin, are the last person that should be lecturing me on my posture," you huff, eyes fluttering open to glare at him with no heat in my eyes.

he raises his hands in surrender and you frown at the loss of contact on the achy spot on your nape, turning to face him but remus simply sits up, gesturing for you to turn around before he starts to massage the knots and cramps up your neck and down your shoulders.

"merlin darling, is your neck not aching?"

"feels numb mostly,"

"and you didn't think it was concerning?"

"well, it doesn't really bother me because i can't exactly feel it,"

"well, that's the problem sweetheart," remus says placatingly, and he chuckles, "you're supposed to be able to feel the back of your neck,"

"i've been using the beanbag chairs too much," you admit, "the back of them aren't really sturdy, so i don't lean and i end up slouching,"

bingo, remus lets a mischievous smirk you thankfully can't see grace his lips, "so it was your slouching? and i was right?"

"never said that," you answer abruptly, stretching when his hands leave the area it was massaging, "but if there is one thing i will be doing, it's sitting with you on the couch, scoot over,"

and he does, tugging you into his open arms and hugging you tightly, pressing kisses on your cheek while his hands rub your back comfortingly, "tell me where it aches darling, i'll help you feel better,"

[chocos-universe]

Well then...

___________________________________________

--Jax was being a bitch rabbit, like always... and Ragtha had enough. And Ragatha got mad.--

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|Lees: Jax||Lers: Ragatha, Pomni, Zooble, Kinger, Caine, and Bubble|

___________________________________________

"WHO PUT BUGS IN MY ROOM?!?!" Ragatha yelled, stomping on the stage where (mostly) everyone was. "Woah there! What's all the commotion about?" Caine asked, floating around with bubble. "Did you say insect collection??" Kinger asked as Zooble glared at him. "What is with you and that f***ing collection...?" "Zooble!!" Caine yelled at Zooble as Zooble rolled their eyes. "I-I didn't put bugs in your room R-Ragatha...n-no one was really in your r-r-room..." Gangle said, stuttering. Pomni looked around and shrugged. "Everyone's room is locked, right...? And only we have the keys to our room..." Pomni said before realizing. "Wait..." "Hey, fellas, what's up?" Jax said, walking in as Ragatha GLARED. "Jax... did you put bugs in my room?!?!?" Ragatha shouted as Jax had his normal smug smile on. "Maybe~" "JAX!!! THAT IS MY ONLY FEAR, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!" "Whatttt? It was funny! You're super mad right now anywa-- WOAH!!" Jax's eyes widened as Ragatha pounced on him "Wh-Wha??!!" Pomni covered her mouth in surprise.

Jax then started...giggling...?

"EEP-- R-Rahahahagatha!! I-It tihihihickles!!" Jax's giggles were oddly sweet and silly. Ragatha spidered her fingers all around his sides. "Tickle Tickle Jax...~" Ragatha teased, chuckling at the youngers blushy face. "Uh...is this normal...?" Pomni asked, looking at Caine. "Why, of course! Everyone gets into tickle fights sometimes! ...Zooble isn't ticklish, though..." Caine said, sounding a little disappointed. "It's true." Zooble said, having their arms crossed. "Anyone wanna help me??" Ragatha asked, having her happy smile on. "...Alright. But only cause Jax will suffer." Zooble said as he took off his arm.

(Quick thing- Jax did call Zooble a "He" in the pilot. So, I'm considering Zooble as a He/They in this:3)

"Nohoho!! Dohon't help her!!" Jax said in between his silly little giggles. "Too late, Jax." Zooble said, tickling Jax's stomach. "EEEK-- Zohohohohoble!! Nahahahaho!!" Jax kicked his legs a little bit. Kinger looked at the younger ones and blinked. "...Eh." Kinger walked over and dug his fingers into Jax's armpits. "AH-- KIHIHIHIHIHIngeheheher!! D-DAAAOHOHOHONT!! BUHUHUHUHUBBLE!! NAHAHAHAT THE EHEHEHEARS!! NOT THE F***IN EHEHEHEHEHEHEARS!!" Jax's curse got bleeped out. Bubble licked Jax's ears, making the poor dude squirm and squeal. "GAHAHAHAHAHAD D*MN IHIHIHIHIT!! *shreik* STAHAHAHAHAP!! F***ING STAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAP!!" Jax pleaded, reaching the point of tears coming out of his eyes. "This is fun," Kinger said in a happy tone. "Come join us, Pomni!" Ragatha said, smiling. "NOHOHOHO!! DOHOHOHONT!!" Jax protested. His ears twitched as his tail wagged a LOT. He hated this, though. "U-Uh..." Pomni looked hesitant until Caine spoke up. "I can help with that!" Caine swayed his cane around as Jax's legs were stuck in place. "F***!! POMNI DOHOHOHONT!! AH-- F***!! Z-ZOHOHOHOHOBLE!!" Jax SCREAMED as Zooble pinched at his ribs. "U-Um..." Pomni shook a little and lightly brushed her fingers along Jax's foot. "P-OMNIHIHIHIHIHEHEHEHE!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! I- I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN'T!!" Jax pleaded as he was squirming around admitting his defeat(kinda). "Then say sorry!!" Ragatha said, going crazy on his sides, making Jax S Q E A L. "NAHAHAHEHEHEHEVER!!" Jax kept on squealing, shrieking, and squirming. Pomni looked at him and squeezed Jaxs knees while tickling in between Jax's lil toe beans. "EHEHEHEK-- POHOHOHOHOHOMNI!!! DOHOHOHO-- AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!" Jax's voice got squeaky and snorty. "Say you're sorry!!" Ragatha said, smirking. "OK!! OHOHOHOHOHOKAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAY!!! I'M SAHAHAHAHAHARRY!! I'M F***ING SAHAHAHRRY!! JUST GET OHOHOHOFF OF MEHEHEHEHEHE!!" Ragatha stopped and smiled. Everyone else did as well.

"Learn your lesson?"

"...Absolutely f***ing not." Jax ran off

"I-- JAAAAXXXX!!!!!!!"

<End>

[horce-divorce]

something something about the power imbalance inherent to being an unhoused person, how similar it is to the dependency that abusers intentionally foster in their relationships to keep victims from leaving. but if you're homeless and someone is putting you up, especially if it's for free/some kind of exchange other than rent, you're basically expected to put up with whatever indignity they can imagine for you and still just be grateful. And if you set a boundary or speak up for yourself in any kind of way, that's Taking Advantage of this poor kind person who's doing SO much for you already, how could you?

sorry its 2am and I'm trying to write a better draft about this for later too but its like. being homeless is a huge, huge vulnerability. ppl people will look to exploit that, intentionally or not. and doubly so if you're homeless because you're disabled.

also something the ableism involved... about how I know so many fellow disabled people who have struggled with homelessness, and we all have similar stories about people we trusted, friends or loved ones who seemed all too happy to help and take us in, and how we repeatedly impressed upon them the nature of our health and the situation, and they swore up and down that they understood and that we were on the same page about boundaries and expectations... only to have them blow up and kick us out at the absolute first sign of conflict or miscommunication, or because we didn't get jobs fast enough, or because we didn't contribute financially even after being told that wasn't expected, and so on.

and how, I know so many housed people who have never been through this, who all have very similar stories about how they tried to help a friend in need once, and they were SO lazy and horrible and took SO long to get their shit together that they clearly were just a freeloader taking advantage who should've never been trusted, just like all homeless people, and that's why we give them socks and canned beans instead of money.

I was never allowed to complain about ableist expectations or abled people ignoring my boundaries in my parents' home. Especially not after I became a disabled adult who still needed help with housing. And that's been true of most of the couch-hopping I've done since then, too.

Currently we have a fairly nice situation... we live with a trusted and pleasant friend. It's a whole house, not an apartment. Not even in the city. We have our own entire room. We don't have to pay rent or anything. It's temporary even aside from our discomfort, it's just been a nice place to land for the cold months.

However. Friends parents are not so chill. Their dad is the most disgusting man alive and has repeatedly gotten us sick bc he's always got something, bleeds all over and never cleans it up, never washes his hands, leaves his dentures on countertops and tables with food still stuck on them, coughs all over our stuff and never masks, is actively making the mouse infestation worse with all the food he leaves out, and puts our health at risk in SO many ways.

he used to work in Healthcare btw. His wife still does. They know we're here bc we're homeless; they know we're both disabled and immunocompromised; neither of them will wear a mask. Both of them are constantly coughing everywhere and not even covering their mouths. We've tried to politely bring this to their attention multiple times and nothing changes. They just ignore us.

We could literally die from this. We could get lifelong health complications even worse than what we have now. Bel lost his sense of taste today and now we're terrified that it's gonna be long covid or something else that sucks what little joy is left from our daily lives.

You lose everything, and then you're supposed to just say nothing and accept your lot, no matter how much danger you're in, because beggars can't be choosers. If you're disabled and poor you'd better just be fine with people abusing you and putting your health and safety at risk indefinitely, because you're lucky they're even helping you at all instead of JUST abusing you.

You dont get to have a home. You dont get to collect things, or keep sentimental things, or have a whole, adequate wardrobe. You get what you can carry with you and what won't get stolen or destroyed by others, or by the nature of moving so much. You dont get to have safety and stability and roots and community. You dont get the dignity of boundaries or your own space. You get what you get and you don't throw a fit. And be happy and say "thank you" if people are merely ignoring you instead of actively silencing you. And if the people "helping" you actually give you the thing that kills you, at least you didn't die of exposure, I guess? Or something?

Its just. Every single thing you do as both a homeless & disabled person reminds you how utterly worthless you are to the """normal""" people around you. Every day. It's so demoralizing.

[donutwatches]

MHA 2.24 - Katsuki Bakugo: Origin -part 2

Thank you to everyone who follows, reblogs, likes, and comments! You guys are the best! Now on with the show:

These two sure do have a complicated dynamic. It would have been easy for the story to take the more cliche route of 'poor victim wins over irredeemable bully', but it is taking a risk by showing positive elements mixed in with the difficulty.

You can see the conflicted feeling on Deku's face here. Bakugo has spent this episode being an unrelenting a-hole, but Midoriya persists in admiring him. Deku is an unhinged little sweet bean, isn't he?

Shut up show, you are not allowed to make Bakugo cute (awww, that little angry pout, his itty bitty tears).

Bakugo scrapping with 4 graders and winning is so *Bakugo* of him.

Nooo, it's a cute-off, I can't survive this level of cuteness, help!

Look at him, all sparkly eyed watching Bakugo being a hero and beating up the bad guys with the same fists that Bakugo uses to beat him up. How...inspiring?

They came up with a plan together! They are working as a team! Hallelujah, it's a miracle! Maybe there is hope! Maybe they can wi---

---and they are doomed. All Might has no chill.

Bakugo gave him one of his gauntlets! Why does that feel so major? This exam is great since tey are going to have to learn how to be more um, 'functional', around each other since they are learning to heroes side by side.

On the other hand, I cannot stop thinking about the gauntlet having stored up sweat inside of it. All of that teen sweat just sloshing around in there...ugh.

Dear God, I can only take so many death flags for All Might. You can't talk about how the kids are our future and than cough up blood. My heart can't take it.

All Might, please do not murder the kids.

He just tossed him like a bean bag, the disrespect. Definitely a desperate plan. Maybe if he throws him far enough, Deku might escape being brutally killed by All Might before the exam is over.

Maybe not. Did...did All Might just...break Deku's spine with his booty? Big Buff just brought new meaning to being a hard ass.

Click here for Part 3/3

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TAGLIST

@jessiedead, @hyperfixations-and-cringe, @granny-griffin, @champion-prism, @blackaquokat

Feel free to request to be added!

[thegreyunderstanding]

Praying Drunk

Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk.

Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks.

I ought to start with praise, but praise

comes hard to me. I stutter. Did I tell you

about the woman whom I taught, in bed,

this prayer? It starts with praise; the simple form

keeps things in order. I hear from her sometimes.

Do you? And after love, when I was hungry,

I said, Make me something to eat. She yelled,

Poof! You’re a casserole!—and laughed so hard

she fell out of the bed. Take care of her.

Next, confession—the dreary part. At night

deer drift from the dark woods and eat my garden.

They’re like enormous rats on stilts except,

of course, they’re beautiful. But why? What makes

them beautiful? I haven’t shot one yet.

I might. When I was twelve, I’d ride my bike

out to the dump and shoot the rats. It’s hard

to kill your rats, our Father. You have to use

a hollow point and hit them solidly.

A leg is not enough. The rat won’t pause.

Yeep! Yeep! it screams, and scrabbles, three-legged, back

into the trash, and I would feel a little bad

to kill something that wants to live

more savagely than I do, even if

it’s just a rat. My garden’s vanishing.

Perhaps I’ll merely plant more beans, though that

might mean more beautiful and hungry deer.

Who knows?

I’m sorry for the times I’ve driven

home past a black, enormous, twilight ridge.

Crested with mist, it looked like a giant wave

about to break and sweep across the valley,

and in my loneliness and fear I’ve thought,

O let it come and wash the whole world clean.

Forgive me. This is my favorite sin: despair—

whose love I celebrate with wine and prayer.

Our Father, thank you for all the birds and trees,

that nature stuff. I’m grateful for good health,

food, air, some laughs, and all the other things

I’m grateful that I’ve never had to do

without. I have confused myself. I’m glad

there’s not a rattrap large enough for deer.

While at the zoo last week, I sat and wept

when I saw one elephant insert his trunk

into another’s ass, pull out a lump,

and whip it back and forth impatiently

to free the goodies hidden in the lump.

I could have let it mean most anything,

but I was stunned again at just how little

we ask for in our lives. Don’t look! Don’t look!

Two young nuns tried to herd their giggling

schoolkids away. Line up, they called. Let’s go

and watch the monkeys in the monkey house.

I laughed, and got a dirty look. Dear Lord,

we lurch from metaphor to metaphor,

which is—let it be so—a form of praying.

I’m usually asleep by now—the time

for supplication. Requests. As if I’d stayed

up late and called the radio and asked

they play a sentimental song. Embarrassed.

I want a lot of money and a woman.

And, also, I want vanishing cream. You know—

a character like Popeye rubs it on

and disappears. Although you see right through him,

he’s there. He chuckles, stumbles into things,

and smoke that’s clearly visible escapes

from his invisible pipe. It makes me think,

sometimes, of you. What makes me think of me

is the poor jerk who wanders out on air

and then looks down. Below his feet, he sees

eternity, and suddenly his shoes

no longer work on nothingness, and down

he goes. As I fall past, remember me.

- Andrew Hudgins

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Repairing Our Busted-Ass World

On poverty:

Starting from nothing

How To Start at Rock Bottom: Welfare Programs and the Social Safety Net 

How to Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Ask the Bitches: “Is It Too Late to Get My Financial Shit Together?“

Understanding why people are poor

It’s More Expensive to Be Poor Than to Be Rich

Why Are Poor People Poor and Rich People Rich?

On Financial Discipline, Generational Poverty, and Marshmallows

Bitchtastic Book Review: Hand to Mouth by Linda Tirado

Is Gentrification Just Artisanal, Small-Batch Displacement of the Poor?

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights

Developing compassion for poor people

The Latte Factor, Poor Shaming, and Economic Compassion

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Stop Myself from Judging Homeless People?“

The Subjectivity of Wealth, Or: Don’t Tell Me What’s Expensive

A Little Princess: Intersectional Feminist Masterpiece?

If You Can’t Afford to Tip 20%, You Can’t Afford to Dine Out

Correcting income inequality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap

One Reason Women Make Less Money? They’re Afraid of Being Raped and Killed.

Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make All Our Lives Better

Are Unions Good or Bad?

On intersectional social issues:

Reproductive rights

On Pulling Weeds and Fighting Back: How (and Why) to Protect Abortion Rights

How To Get an Abortion 

Blood Money: Menstrual Products for Surviving Your Period While Poor

You Don’t Have to Have Kids

Gender equality

1 Easy Way All Allies Can Help Close the Gender and Racial Pay Gap 

The Pink Tax, Or: How I Learned to Love Smelling Like “Bearglove”

Our Single Best Piece of Advice for Women (and Men) on International Women’s Day

Bitchtastic Book Review: The Feminist Financial Handbook by Brynne Conroy

Sexual Harassment: How to Identify and Fight It in the Workplace 

Queer issues

Queer Finance 101: Ten Ways That Sexual and Gender Identity Affect Finances

Leaving Home before 18: A Practical Guide for Cast-Offs, Runaways, and Everybody in Between

Racial justice

The Financial Advantages of Being White

Woke at Work: How to Inject Your Values into Your Boring, Lame-Ass Job

The New Jim Crow, by Michelle Alexander: A Bitchtastic Book Review

Something Is Wrong in Personal Finance. Here’s How To Make It More Inclusive.

The Biggest Threat to Black Wealth Is White Terrorism

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality 

10 Rad Black Money Experts to Follow Right the Hell Now 

Youth issues

What We Talk About When We Talk About Student Loans

The Ugly Truth About Unpaid Internships

Ask the Bitches: “I Just Turned 18 and My Parents Are Kicking Me Out. How Do I Brace Myself?”

Identifying and combatting abuse

When Money is the Weapon: Understanding Intimate Partner Financial Abuse

Are You Working on the Next Fyre Festival?: Identifying a Toxic Workplace

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Say ‘No’ When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again?”

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On mental health:

Understanding mental health issues

How Mental Health Affects Your Finances

Stop Recommending Therapy Like It’s a Magic Bean That’ll Grow Me a Beanstalk to Neurotypicaltown

Bitchtastic Book Review: Kurt Vonnegut’s Galapagos and Your Big Brain

Ask the Bitches: “How Do I Protect My Own Mental Health While Still Helping Others?”

Coping with mental health issues

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care

My 25 Secrets to Successfully Working from Home with ADHD 

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics 

On saving the planet:

Changing the system

Don’t Boo, Vote: If You Don’t Vote, No One Can Hear You Scream

Ethical Consumption: How to Pollute the Planet and Exploit Labor Slightly Less

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

Season 1, Episode 4: “Capitalism Is Working for Me. So How Could I Hate It?”

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 1: Healthcare, Housing, and Labor Rights 

Coronavirus Reveals America’s Pre-existing Conditions, Part 2: Racial and Gender Inequality 

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6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

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[lily-lilou]

Aaravos and his grand plan

Hi everyone, it's my yearly apparition on Tumblr after s6 finally being released. Hope you're all doing okay since last time I was here :D

Hehe! (... sorry I only ever come here every 7th tuesday of the month T.T)

So! Guess you'll have noticed our dear Startouch never actually said anything about his "new purpose" after that trial and its ghastly conclusion, and I'll also guess you (like Terry) can already say it's not something pleasant.

I mean, we all knew, to some extent, that he had to do what he was doing for a "good" reason. I think I remember saying (ages ago >_>’’’) that if he really wanted power, he could have taken it or something. Or more likely that it was uselesss because he already had that power : he was respected, powerful, practically a god amongst mortal.

Now we know why:

First, we have a motive, the cutest little bean ever :

(the art guys! The ART!!! Leola bring adorableness to new hight and Aaravos is such a dad and it hurts my poor heart u_u)

(also, I'll totally admit I had many ideas but I really didn't see that one coming. I should have, this IS a story about relationships, especially between parents and children)

Second : he acted the way he did, only moving from the shadows, always pushing others to do what he wanted, very probably to avoid triggering the eyes of the cosmic order. They're all about seeing the grand scheme of things, the general picture (Callum's book and also their arguments during Leola's trial are proof of it). Aaravos more than anyone would know their flaws, especially them missing tiny little details.

Anyway! We can guess that whatever happened with Luna Tenebris, Queen Aditi, Sol Regem and a lot of other people was either for vengeance, or, at the very least, a way to remove potential obstacle in said vengeance. And I'm impressed with his way of killing two birds with one stone, like we saw with Sol Regem : Aaravos made him kill his own mate, allowing him to avoid being noticed/reprimanded by the cosmic order by interfering, AND ensuring a hard vengeance on the archdragon (because losing someone you love is hard, learning you killed them yourself is worse).

(We'll have a minute of silence for Mr Witness and the hell of a price he paid for what he did... and we'll remove at least 50 seconds because I had HOPE for him, when he refused the Sun Seed to heal his eyes… and then he went about healing his wings and I thought “Just go die already!” And guess what? He did!)

But now, what about his "new purpose"? His Grand Plan?

Ooooh, nothing, really...

...

Well, guys... everything is the title.

I mean, the title's panel!

What?

We learned with the last episode that, apparently, stars can fall, nah?

And in our dear picture above, we have a LOT of stars falling, don't you think so?

[meabh-mcinness]

Anon that requested runaway!SO Narnia prompt here, and my heart squeezed when I saw you put it in your list. Thank you so much!

Saw your post, and I love the idea for it to take place before the 13th Deviculum, it changes Narnia's vitriol towards Iruma so much.

I don't believe that he doesn't think that Iruma's fame (as the Misfits are apparently a household name and in papers) DIDN'T influence his lover leaving him in a bid for freedom! Maybe he noticed that she had been paying attention to whatever news they got of Iruma's antics, like him even attending his first Deviculum.

Makes his beef with Iruma personal, if Narnia even slightly blamed the poor bean's (seemingly intentional) tendency to stand out as what put ideas in her head when she was pretty content to stay before.

(Actually, my first idea about why the SO leapt to the nuclear option of vanishing and not talking it out, prompt happening after-deviculum, was because he knocked her up. And girl got SO scared for her child, since at that point he revealed that he still hated 'dirty humans' and it fed into her pre-existing insecurities about how he kept her secret from everyone he knew, why he never married her in any kind of demonic ritual, and fed her growing misassumption that she was basically a pet that he didn't think was acceptable for demonic society.

Culminating into a major freak out when the SO found out she was going to have a half-human baby.

Like, would he want to keep her child? Would they be raised to never know that their mother was human, with the belief that her heritage made them weak compared to full-blooded demon children? Would Narnia still keep her secret and introduce their child to society as without a mother, without her?

...most of her worries aren't quite true, as imo Narnia *wasn't* trying to treat her like a mistress/guilty secret wife, it was mostly his yandere tendencies and unrestrained demonic territorial possessiveness talking and getting irrationally jealous of possible competition, of anyone else taking up her attention.

Part of it is because Narnia doesn't have many trusted allies (friends) that weren't also co-workers (and thus can recognize a human) and wouldn't set his instincts off! And he got way too comfortable with their current lifestyle, since he was probably an intensely private demon in the first place.

Truly a misundestanding of tragic proportions. Were it Kalego in his position, he could at least be alright to introduce her to Balam, and Balam Shichiro could have gotten a human to eventually open up and communicate about their discontent and gotten things addressed. Alas, this isn't a Kalego story, though it might be interesting to have one where Kalego and the Sullivan household come together over their secret humans, hehe.

But Narnia's SO hasn't been in a good place mentally and emotionally, not for a long time, and worked herself into an irrational panic that culminated into a flight into the night decision.

Sorry, this took so long to get out! I hope I've lived up to your expectations! My beta tells me this made her tear up a bit so I'm hoping it has the same effect for everyone but enjoys it anyways.

The Price of Freedom - request (Yandere!Narnia x fem!reader)Ⓐ

Narnia keeps you trapped on the property to keep you safe from the rest of the Netherworld and while his intentions are good he's doing more harm than intended. After all, humans are social pack animals meant to be able to roam about wild and free. And while there are exceptions to every rule, you are not one of them. So when you see a chance to leave, you take it. Leaving your heart behind but gaining your freedom in the process.

Also, this is a two-parter! The first part is angst but I haven't decided if our little couple here will get a happy ending or not yet. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

You took a deep breath, glancing over at the slumbering body holding yours. His long hair was fanned out behind him and his pale skin practically gleamed even in the darkness of the room. Soon enough, his alarm would go off, and those dark eyes would open blearily, and he'd grumble while trying to turn it off and pull you closer. Eventually, he'd give in, wake up more with a smile and a kiss for you and get ready for the day. It was a daily routine that had lasted for a few years now, and it was one you loved.

Your heart clenched at the fact that this would probably be the last morning it ever happened.

Your eyes travelled all the lines of his face, taking in every detail that you could, hoping to memorize them to the best of your ability. You had plenty of photos stored away, that you already knew you would take out over and over again until they faded with age and even afterwards, but no photo could ever beat seeing him in person. You were tempted to gently run your fingers over his cheeks and down his hair but knew he would wake up immediately, startled.

He was such a light sleeper due to the years of growing up under the Naberius household that you always tried hard to not make too much noise or movements so that he could sleep in when he could. And as this would be the last time you laid beside him, you wanted to enjoy this moment. To have time freeze over this peace, and not have the negative feelings swirling through your body running circles in your mind. To leave this all behind no matter how much you loved it because you couldn't stay caged in any longer.

But you couldn't. As a human, you held no magic beyond what the power of runes and already magic-infused items could give you, much less the amount of power needed to freeze time itself. So instead, here you lay, trying to absorb as much as possible because the moment that he leaves property lines, you would be getting to work. You had even purposefully made a bit of a mess last night and promptly shoved the both of you to bed so that you would have an excuse on why you were moving things about if he came back early for whatever reason.

You could only hope he didn't come home early.

Today had been forecasted to be nice and sunny until the afternoon rolled around with thunderstorms. If you timed it right, you'd be able to pack everything up, leave and make it to town right before the storms hit, with several hours to spare for the rain to wash away your trail. Otherwise, if the rain came early you would be stuck here until the next time such an opportunity presented itself, and who knew when that would be? More than likely you would have gone stir-crazy before that happened, and who knew what kind of damage you would do when that happened?

Not that this idea was much better. Had this been a more ordinary relationship, you would have easily just talked out the fact you had wanderlust and gone out to visit new places. Instead, as much as you loved Narnia, you could admit he was a bit paranoid and even straight-up territorial about your standing in this world. Always going on about the dangers of this world and wanting to keep you here in this safe bubble of a home he had made for the two of you.

Not that it was without reason. The Netherworld was indeed a harsh place and there were so many dangers just out your front door, much less the rest of this big bad world. And yet the human world was not without its dangers as well, and while you knew many threats had magic which left you at quite the disadvantage, you could at least protect yourself semi-well. Narnia had seen to that with what started as daily training sessions, which slowly moved to once every few days then to a few times a month as you proved more proficient, and he gained harder and harder cases to solve.

At first, you hadn't thought much of it. Even in the human world, it was quite often that schedules could get packed. You would have been fine with it if you had something to do other than roam this tiny amount of land. Instead, you were trapped here like a prized pet in a cage, forever waiting for your precious master to return. You couldn't live like that. Not anymore at least.

Suddenly your thoughts were broken by the sharp tones of his alarm. You couldn't help the startled movement you made, having not fully expected it to go off so soon. This in turn startled Narnia awake. His eyes snapped open and immediately focused on you before swiping the room for any danger.

You gave him a sheepish smile, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Narnia brushed off your apology with a casual wave of his hand and leaned in to give you a soft, lingering kiss. A large pale hand caresses your face and sweeps into your hairline to pull you in closer. It was a sweet morning ritual, one that you cherished. He tasted like roses and dark chocolate with a hint of mint, a flavour unique to him. His lips were warm and inviting, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget the impending departure.

Breaking the kiss, Narnia slipped out of bed, his movements fluid and graceful. He grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and headed for the bathroom. You watched him as he moved, his silhouette bathed in the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

He began his usual morning routine, the sounds of running water and the clinking of toiletries filling the air. You couldn't help but smile as you listened. It was the ordinary moments like these that you would miss the most.

While he showered, you took the opportunity to slip out of bed and start preparing for the day ahead. You retrieved a backpack from the closet and began packing it with essential items: clothes, food, a first aid kit, and a map of the Netherworld. You knew you'd have to travel light, but you wanted to be as prepared as possible for whatever lay ahead.

As you worked, you couldn't help but glance over towards where Narnia in the bathroom would be. You could hear him humming a tune over the splashing of water, likely with a contented expression on his face as he went about his routine. It was moments like these that made leaving even harder.

But you couldn't stay. Your longing for adventure, for freedom, had grown too strong to ignore. And so, you continued to pack, determined to make the most of the time you had left with him. After packing the essentials in your backpack, you carefully zipped it up and placed it under the bed, hidden from plain view. You couldn't risk Narnia stumbling upon it and asking questions before you were ready to explain your decision.

With that task completed, you moved on to the next item on your agenda: breakfast. You headed to the kitchen, quietly so as not to disturb Narnia in the bathroom. You had learned to navigate this small cottage with a gentle touch, ensuring that your movements were subtle and silent. In the kitchen, you gathered the ingredients for a simple breakfast - eggs, toast, and a few vegetables. As you cracked the eggs into a bowl and started whisking them, the aroma of cooking filled the air, a comforting and familiar scent that made your heart ache with nostalgia.

By the time Narnia emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, you had already set the table for two. He gave you a warm smile as he approached, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Smells delicious," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

You returned his smile and turned to face him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Just a little something to start your day off right," you replied, trying to sound as normal as possible despite the turmoil in your heart. Together, you shared a quiet breakfast at the cozy table, the two of you lost in your thoughts. Narnia talked about his plans for the day, the cases he needed to solve, and the colleagues he'd be meeting with. You listened attentively, offering words of encouragement and support.

As the time for Narnia to leave for work approached, you couldn't help but feel the weight of impending separation bearing down on you. You walked him to the door, his hand in yours, and shared a lingering kiss before he stepped outside.

He gave you a weird look, seemingly studying you, causing you to pause and tilt your head at him in response with the most curious look you could muster, before he shook his head and went back to making sure he had his things for work. You felt your body relax at passing whatever test that had been. You could thank the fact that years of wearing a mask in the human world also helped you here, even if you didn't much like why you were using it now.

You gave him a smile and leaned up on your toes to give him a kiss. 'Your last kiss' your mind supplied. What a shame you had to pass it off as your regular see-you-later rather than pour everything you had into it like you wanted to. But that would be suspicious, and he would want to stay longer or it might make him think you were in the mood and stay for a completely different reason. As much as you wanted the touch of his body one more time, you couldn't have it. Not without messing up your carefully laid out plan.

"Have a good day at work!" You chirped at him before waving him off with a laugh as he grumbled under his breath about how no day at work without you was a good day. You leaned against the door frame as you admired the large leathery wings that suddenly burst from his back, the appendages giving a few small flutters to stretch themselves out before he took off into the dawning sky with another wave at you.

You gave him another small wave in return and watched until you could no longer see him on the horizon. Even then you gave it a few seconds to see if he happened to turn around. It wouldn't be the first time he'd purposely forgotten something so that he could come back and spend a few more moments with you. Once those few seconds passed you deemed it safe to carry on with your plan. With Narnia gone for the day, you had a limited window of opportunity to execute your plan. You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear as you prepared to embark on the journey that would take you far away from the life you had known, and into the unknown.

You only had a few hours to tear this place apart, grab everything you could, put it back together again and be on your way to a new life. It wouldn't be easy as you first went back into the bedroom and stripped the bed of everything. Throwing the sheets into the laundry and tossing your personal pillows aside to be packed later. Next, as the blankets washed, you scoured the walls and frames for every photo of you that you could find. There was an almost surprising amount of them, considering both your and Narnia's aversion to photos, but you supposed that anyone would want to have captured moments when they were in a relationship.

Had this been a normal relationship perhaps you would be packing everything up for a completely different reason. Perhaps moving into a bigger home than this little one-bedroom cottage, or even moving things aside until renovations were done to expand this one. However, this wasn't a normal relationship, and you couldn't entertain the idea of it ever being so any longer.

With every delicate movement, you took great care to erase any trace of your existence from the cottage. You gathered any personal belongings that tied you to this place, from clothing to small trinkets, and stowed them away in your backpacks, making sure not to leave behind a single item that might raise suspicion. The cottage itself bore no signs of your occupancy; the walls were stripped of photos, the bedroom was bare other than his belongings, and even the living room was devoid of any of your personal touches.

You took a deep breath as you stood in the now almost empty cottage, a sense of finality washing over you. It really was as if you had never lived there at all. With one last glance around, you knew it was time to leave. Gathering up your bags you took a deep breath as you took in the boundary line from where the property ended and the next one began. You knew from several small tests that there were no wards that would alert Narnia to your leaving. A serious oversight on his part that you were happily taking advantage of. As you stared at the line you couldn't help but think of Samwise from Lord of the Rings and couldn't but wonder if this is how it felt for him to leave his home behind for a big adventure.

Heart pounding and veins singing you made the first step across, then another and another until you laughed at the fluttering of pleasure that coursed through you. The imaginary shackles that had bound were falling free as you walked determinedly onward towards your new life. You wanted to stop and observe every plant and animal you came across, but you had a long way to go still and you could already smell the rain on the horizon.

Yet, deep within you, a tiny spark of hope flickered, for you were on the path to a new beginning, and the possibilities of the unknown stretched out before you like an open book, waiting to be written.

________

Narnia landed more harshly than he meant to in his attempt to get inside from the torrential downpour quicker. Mud splattered as high as his thighs from his hard crouched landing before he straightened up again to move towards the door. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so anxious to get home, but something in his veins told him that something was wrong. He hadn't gotten this far in life by entirely ignoring his instincts, and yet he couldn't think of anything that could be wrong.

Well. Besides the way you had been acting lately that was.

He wasn't blind, he had known there was something off with you. You had been steadily getting more and more twitchy, almost like a caged beast in too small of a kennel. Perhaps you were entering some kind of new phase? Like when birds moulted old feathers to make new ones, perhaps you were going through something similar but a more human body version? Your skin had peeled several times over the years, so perhaps a more involved version appeared when you hit a new phase. Such a thing would certainly make him twitchy.

As he came closer to the door, forcefully coming out of his thoughts, he realized that all the lights were off. This wasn't too unusual. You had a habit of occasionally going to bed early or watching TV late and purposefully leaving the lights off for a better ambience. But after the weird way you acted this morning and the feeling he had all day, it just made him feel more anxious.

Wrenching the door open, he quickly stalked into the living room, shaking his head much like a dog to get the excess water off his hair before tilting his head to the side. He listened carefully for either the low sounds of music or the TV or even just your steady breathing.

Nothing. It was absolutely silent. Heart pounding, he raced through all the rooms, praying that he would find you simply dozing off and would berate him for waking you. You would laugh before comforting him over his silly anxiety, and everything would be perfectly fine.

Only it wasn't. As he swung the last door open into your shared bedroom, water still trailing behind him, it hit him that you really weren't here. As his eyes swept over every inch, he finally registered none of you was here. The photos on the walls were missing, and your half of the closet was empty. Hell, even your pillows were gone, the bed freshly laundered and remade to look like only one person slept in it.

With this sudden realization, he tore back through the house carefully to confirm what he already knew. Everything you owned, every craft you had made, every book he had bought you, was gone.

You were gone.

If it wasn't for the faintest scent of you still trapped in the furniture, it would have been as if you had never even existed. As if you hadn't spent literal years together here in this home, cuddling on the couch or playing board games on the table. As if you had never had mini cooking wars in the kitchen that usually ended with you both laughing and kissing the food off one another or in the large tub relaxing as the warm herb-infused waters soaked into your muscles.

Had someone taken you? Had someone noticed your existence and decided they wanted you for themselves? Taken you against your will and made it look like you didn't exist so that he couldn't go to anyone for help without looking crazy? Or perhaps, since such a thorough job was done, had Border Patrol swept in without his knowledge? Purposefully kept him out of the loop with an important enough job to ensure he couldn't stop them.

But no, Henri would have kept him from leaving and questioned him regardless. Always playing by the rules, Henri did, and that left him, for the most part, predictable. So not Border Patrol then. But who else? Perhaps Baal? He hadn't been as subtle as he could have been in trying to figure out if Narnia was willing to return to origins. Had he discovered you when trying to stake Narnia out and gotten rid of you?

At the thought, a feral growl ripped out of Narnia, and he ran out of the house and back into the rain in the hopes of catching some kind of trail. With it raining as hard and long as it had, all scents and tracks would be long gone, so the only thing he had left was to feel out any foreign magic that would have been used and try to track that. And yet, no matter how hard he tried or how much power he threw into his wards, he couldn't find any recent detection of foreign magic. None at all. Even the local mail demon flying in would have left something to follow.

It was almost as if...but no, that was impossible. There was absolutely no way you would have left on your own. You knew the dangers and never strayed further than a couple of yards from the walls of your home. Even then you didn't usually go further than your flower beds, or food gardens in the back. With a snarl, Narnia turned back and raced back through the house more closely, determined to find even the smallest clue.

As Narnia's desperate search through the house came to an agonizing conclusion, he stood in your shared bedroom, drenched in rainwater, his chest heaving with anxiety and disbelief. Your absence was undeniable, and the once-familiar space now felt alien and hollow. His racing thoughts continued to churn with questions and fears, each one more unsettling than the last. The eerie silence in the house seemed to mock his growing panic.

Unable to accept the possibility of your disappearance, he clutched at straws, desperately searching for any sign of your presence. He scanned the room, running his fingers over the empty hangers in the closet and the vacant space on your side of the bed. The absence of your cherished belongings was a stark reminder of your absence.

With trembling hands, Narnia stumbled upon something that sent a shiver down his spine. A faint but lingering scent of you still clung to the furniture, a trace of the life you had shared together in this very room. It was both a cruel reminder of what had been and a glimmer of hope that you hadn't vanished entirely.

His heart ached as he clung to that scent, unwilling to let go of the memories and the love that had defined their life together. But as the minutes passed, reality continued to gnaw at him, and he realized he needed answers, no matter how painful they might be. Turning away from the room that had once been filled with your presence, Narnia retraced his steps, still soaked from the rain. His determination to find you grew stronger with every passing moment. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, not without knowing the truth.

Tripping in his haste he fell to his knees next to the coffee table in the living room. With shaking limbs, he started to force himself to get up when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Laying innocently on the ground, a folded-up piece of parchment, his name written in your distinctive shaky handwriting. You never did get the hang of writing the demonic characters simply because you couldn't practice properly with the spell forcing you to see the letters in your own language but writing in his.

His emotions churned as he approached the letter, a fragile piece of paper that held the key to your mysterious departure. With trembling hands, he unfolded it and began to read. The words on the page weighed heavily on his heart, each sentence cutting deeper into his soul.

His hands trembled as his eyes scanned the letter quickly, hoping for some clue about where you were, only to grow more despondent the further he read. A pained howl tore from him as he took in what exactly your letter had meant, and he hadn't even realized he had started crying until the letters started bleeding together from his tears. With a choked gasp, he immediately wiped the tears away and tried to fan the letter dry again.

This letter was the only thing he had left from you besides the flowers you had planted outside. He had to take perfect care of it all. Had to keep it well until he could find you again. Because he would find you, no matter what it took. If you wanted the freedom to explore, then you could have it, just as long as you came back home-- back to him. His voice quivered with whimpers as he clutched the letter tightly to his chest, his heart aching with love and longing for the one who had vanished from his life.

To My Beloved Narnia,

As I sit here writing this letter, I can only think of all the moments we've shared together.

From our first meeting to our last embrace this morning, our courtship has been

nothing but a source of joy in my life. Sometimes, though, love isn't enough to make

something work. And I've come to the painful decision that we need to separate, at

least for a while. I will always cherish the moments and memories we shared and I am

sorry for the pain that this may cause you, but I can no longer do this. Humans are

not meant to be caged, no matter how nice that cage is. I need to be free, to be able

to go out and about, meet others, and explore this world, even if it's at the cost

of losing you. I'm truly sorry it came to this, and I will love you always.

Forever Yours

[theboywithburninghands]

So, this is probably gonna be the last fluff/filler chapter before the final arc is set in motion. So I figured why not scratch the ol’ hurt/comfort itch before things get super serious? @fernstarsblog your tag as always, but I figured I would also tag @dragonwritersblog as well since you’re a connoisseur of hurt/comfort. If you’d rather I untag you, I’d be happy to. Okay, uh, enjoy!

T/W: Era appropriate sexism, withdrawals and drug cravings, implied vomit, past parental abuse

Primum Peccatum Ch. 14: Last Dance with Mary Jane

“Time is a strange thing. It hurtles by us faster than we can see, yet never leaves a single grain of sand within the hourglass unaccounted for. It grinds our souls to dust from excess, yet we crave it oh-so greatly, as there is never enough.” - Connie McGregor, The Iron Rings, pg. 174.

Pomni Shutnyk asserted that this quote best described the following week and a half of her life. The hours slowed to a crawl, and yet the days trundled along at a steady pace. Most of this temporal disconnect could be attributed to what Pomni tasked herself with doing over the days before her wedding. She decided to help Jax through his withdrawals.

Truthfully, she didn’t need to. Altonicus left careful instructions on the tapering process. How much to reduce the dosage of laudanum over each day, how much fluids Jax needed to drink, how often to launder his bedsheets, etc. Jax could have done most of it on his own, as after the “cold turkey” debacle and the proper medications, his symptoms had become somewhat less severe. But having to suffer through that level of constant pain and need entirely on his own was something Pomni would not abide.

She hadn’t much desire to stay at The Shutnyk Estate anyway. Her parents took to ignoring her, especially her father, who shut himself in his office and took his meals at his desk. Her mother issued a few salutations in the mornings and best wishes in the evenings, but apart from that mostly kept to her gardening. Zooble had their duties and thus wasn’t a paragon of conversation either, apart from a few private discussions with Pomni about the day of the wedding.

It seemed to Pomni that The Shutnyk Estate was no longer her home, merely a liminal space where she ate and slept between staying with Jax. Perhaps it had been that way for quite some time, but it was only now that she felt comfortable admitting it.

She took the next morning after Jax’s family visited to bathe at last and then view the manor being built for them on the other side of the island. Her father hired a crew of Telychian workers for construction, as they were known for working quickly and efficiently. At least, her father liked to brag that Telychian men worked quickly and efficiently. The house was still nothing but a skeleton of oak boards by the time she arrived at the property. The workers were milling about, drinking coffee from tins that used to contain beans or fruit preserves. One worker seated on a log spotted her and called out something in Telychian which made the other workers laugh boorishly. They more than likely had no idea that Pomni was not only the future owner, but also the daughter of the man who hired them. But, Pomni didn’t speak Telychian, so she remained unbothered. Soon, the house would be hers to do what she pleased with.

—

Pomni truthfully hadn’t put much thought into how she would help her fiancé through his withdrawals. She was a poor conversationalist, and she didn’t have the stomach to ask her father if she could borrow any of his vinyls. He refused to let her touch them when she was a girl, and, given her recent behavior, probably would be disinclined to lend them to her now. It wasn’t until Pomni glanced down at the cover of the literary journal she borrowed from Kinger that morning that it clicked.

She could read to him.

They both loved books. True, he hadn’t finished Margaret’s Rise, but that was a significant undertaking, even for an experienced reader such as herself. She finished administering Jax’s medicine that morning before sitting at the desk chair.

“Mr. Krolik- …Pardon me. Jax. I’ve gotten a wonderful idea. Would you like for me to read to you? There isn’t much else to occupy our time with. A distraction is just the thing you need, isn’t it?”

Jax massaged his temples, a futile attempt to alleviate some of the pressure in his skull.

“I suppose so… But are you certain you’d enjoy that? Your voice may-”

Pomni interrupted. “Enjoy it? Jax. I’ve waited 25 years to meet someone, anyone to share my love of literature with. My parents were never interested, Mr. Kinger and Ragatha listened but had never read what I wanted to discuss… It would be an honor.”

Jax looked at Pomni. The young woman had her hands clasped together and wore an ear to ear grin, the first time he had ever seen her give a full-on smile. She was… beautiful, when she smiled. Perhaps that was the fever talking. Even still, he couldn’t help but smile wearily right back at her.

“I couldn’t turn down a look of such excitement even if I wanted to. I’d be honored if you read to me, dear.”

Pomni giggled with ebullient glee before she could stop herself. She blushed, covering her mouth and clearing her throat.

“I’m thrilled to hear that answer. Tell me, what would you like to read? There are hundreds of options. The only book I would request we not read is Humidity, as I’ve just finished that one. For a later date, perhaps.”

Jax rested his head on his pillow and thought for a moment. Thinking earnestly was difficult with a brain addled by pressure and a gnawing desire for opium..

“Something quite long and dense. Something that I can really become engrossed in without the prose being too dry. Something…. I can really become lost within.”

And please, opium. Please please PLEASE let him have some opium. He would feel ill for the rest of his life at this rate if he didn’t get opium-

“I have just the thing,” Pomni said excitedly. “I’ll be back in just a moment. Oh, I’m sorry, I haven’t asked, have you read The Ties that Bind by Antoine Goethe?”

“Mmm… no. No I haven’t.” Jax said.

“Oh, you’re in for such a treat! I have a copy in my father’s library. I’ll be just a moment!”

Pomni leapt from her chair and hurried out of the room. Jax chuckled a bit, watching her disappear down the foyer steps. He had hardly seen her react with such enthusiasm to anything. Well, positive enthusiasm.

He laid back on his pillow and looked up at the ceiling. He had already counted the dots and smudges on it. 62. 43 dots, 19 smudges. Allfather save him, did he ever need opium. It would be so much easier to enjoy… anything if he didn’t feel violently ill. He was a wretch without laudanum… Having something to focus on other than his all-consuming need sounded pleasant, however. Even if it would be unsuccessful.

He dreaded the next time that Alton reduced his dosage. Sleep was already nearly impossible with how horrid he felt, and even if he could sleep, he dreamed of opium. Horrific, perverted dreams of opium. A woman, her eyes replaced with crimson red poppy flowers. Brown, psychoactive nectar oozed from the flowers down her cheeks, and she presented him with an entire bouquet of the dripping things, tempting him to drink his fill.

But, if he didn’t receive enough opium, he wouldn’t be able to sleep at all. No escape from the pain. Hours and hours and hours of nausea and aches, trapped in this cramped little room. He could imagine it now, his eyes red and exhausted but unable to find rest, his brain fizzling from overuse until it popped like a lightbulb and died. Completely alone in the dark.

He heard the front door open and close, and the pitter-patter of feet on the stairs. Pomni returned with a door stopper of a book under her arm.

“Apologies for the delay. This is a rather sizable novel, if you couldn’t tell. Do you need anything before we begin?”

Jax shooed away the single request that his brain screamed for. “No, this should be just fine. Thank you my dear…”

Pomni smiled again. “Then let’s sally forth. I can hardly wait.”

Pomni flicked to the beginning page and cleared her throat.

“‘So. When The Allfather, in his wisdom, created the cascading spheres of existence, he created that of Men last…’”

—

Four days came and went, Pomni reading to Jax for almost 12 hours every day. The Ties that Bind was by no means a short story, and yet they were nearing the end of the novel in a little more than half a week. It helped that Pomni was quite the orator. She spoke quickly yet clearly, seldom fumbling with difficult to pronounce words. She only stopped for meals, explanations, or the occasional long and quiet sip of water.

Jax was a talented listener as well. He only interrupted when he had to leave the room to be sick, and on rare occasions dozed off for an hour or so from the weariness of intense illness. Otherwise, he was attentive and insightful, asking good questions about the novel’s characters, some even Pomni had never thought to ask.

“Do you believe Jeremiah has feelings for Garvey?” he asked two days into the novel.

Pomni looked up from the novel and blinked. “Feelings? I don’t catch your meaning,” Pomni replied.

“Do you believe Jeremiah’s hatred for Garvey is a defense mechanism against the former’s feelings of attraction for the latter?” Jax clarified. “It would make sense. He tries to sabotage Garvey’s relationship with Edelweiss not out of love for the woman, but out of an ill-defined ‘disgust’ for Garvey. It could be a matter of social class, or he could be concealing his true sexuality.”

Pomni felt another smile creep up her lips as she looked back at the text. “That is a unique perspective. Unlikely, but original. I admire it.”

Kinger was more than happy to assist. It had been ages since he had entertained any guests for a significant period of time. In between caring for his insect collection and making sketches of some taxidermied Silurian beetles, he brought his two visitors small meals to curb their appetites and occasionally sat in to listen to Pomni read for a while. There were moments when he jumped in surprise at seeing Pomni return the dishes to the kitchen, but each time Pomni patiently re-explained the situation.

—

On the fifth day after the visit, Pomni received her wedding dress. Bubble somehow managed to haul the dress, which was packed in a sturdy pinewood freight box, up to The Shutnyk Estate’s front stoop. Again, most of Primum Peccatum’s citizens found it tiresome to try and explain how Bubble accomplished such feats.

“Please sign your name here, Mr. Rucksack!” he squealed, holding out a clipboard and pencil to Vladimir with no visible hands.

“That’s ‘Shutnyk,’ sir. Honestly, how do you find anyone’s domicile if you have such trouble remembering a single surname?” Vladimir groused as he signed his name.

“All apologies Mr. Knotwrap! Here’s the tool you’ll need to open the box! PTOOEY!”

Bubble spat an iron prybar onto the stone porch with a loud clattering ring. He then tucked his clipboard into his mailbag and bounced away down the path like a child’s rubber ball.

It took the combined efforts of Vladimir and Zooble to pry the lid of the crate loose, the nails squeaking as they were dragged from the wood. Zooble took the lid and put it in the back garden for kindling. The dress lay in the crate, worn by a sewing mannequin, insulated on all sides with eight inches of straw and wrapped tightly in brown paper. Zooble removed the mannequin from the crate, the headless, handless and legless thing looking like an effigy meant to be sacrificed. With a few swift claw strokes, Zooble removed the paper, and the dress fell free in a plume of feathers.

“Oh… it’s beautiful,” Mirella sighed. “Pomni, won’t you come try on your dress?”

Pomni watched the extraction from the second floor landing, holding onto the banister. She took a quick step back.

“Erm… is that wise? Isn’t there an old wives tale of bad luck occurring if the bride tries on her dress before the wedding?” she replied.

“Oh, hardly, piccola. Come now, let’s see how it looks on you!” Mirella insisted.

“Mother, I really should be…” Pomni began, but trailed off. She wanted to finish her novel with Jax.

“Ms. Shutnyk, respectfully, you should try on your dress. At least to see if it needs any adjusting.” Zooble said.

Pomni opened her mouth to reply, but closed it soon after. Zooble made a fair point, as always.

She decided to change in the dining room. It took 15 minutes, but Pomni eventually figured out how to get herself into the blasted thing. She remembered a passage from one of her novels about getting into a wedding dress, and the strategy that the character adopted worked quite well for her, shockingly enough. She looked at herself in the mirror.

“I’ve dressed now!” Pomni called. At this announcement, her mother hurried into the room as quickly as she could without outright sprinting, Vladimir and Zooble following after. Mirella put her hands to her mouth and gasped.

“Oh, darling…”

The dress was a perfect fit. Shiny white, sleeveless and only reaching her chest. It was patterned with pearl-like, sequential beads of fabric, neatly split into two halves by a white waistband. The bottom half of the dress was decorated with feathers, beginning with a few up at the hip before thickening into a full plumage down at the hem. The frosty paleness of the dress amplified the raven black of her hair, and made her blue eyes glimmer like freshly polished aquamarines.

“Do I look half decent..?” she asked, glancing away from the three pairs of eyes on her. Her skin prickled with itchiness.

“You’re so beautiful. Oh, I could swoon!” Mirella took out her fan and flicked it open, fanning herself rapidly and biting back tears. “Vladimir, look at our little girl! Isn’t she just exquisite?”

Vladimir looked the dress up and down. He must have still been a bit sore about the price, as well as everything that occurred during the Kroliks’ visit. But he managed a smile.

“You look gorgeous, lisichka.” he said. “The spitting image of the ideal Telychian woman.”

“I’m not too certain about the ‘ideal Telychian woman’ bit, but you are stunning in that dress, Ms. Shutnyk,” Zooble said. “We owe Mr. Gummigoo our thanks for such intricate craftsmanship.”

Pomni blushed deeper and kept her gaze fixated on the floor. She was still incensed at her parents for their foolhardiness these weeks, doubtlessly, but… she couldn’t help but feel a warmth inside upon hearing them genuinely call her beautiful. It did make her feel a hint of regret…

“Well… I’m very pleased to hear that. I… I’m rather looking forward to wearing it for the ceremony,” she said. “But I must be going. Jax is expecting me. Today is another milestone in…-”

She paused.

“Well, he was improving last night, and hopefully this morning his symptoms will have further improved. Zooble, you don’t mind putting my dress back on the mannequin, do you? I’m unsure how to go about it…”

“I don’t mind at all, Ms. Shutnyk. Do not forget your book.” Zooble replied.

Pomni peeled herself out of the wedding gown and back into her plain yellow and green sundress. She sighed with relief, her body being able to breath again: She hurried up the stairs to her room, picking up The Ties that Bind as well as a pink faux book box she received for her 16th birthday. It had a small brass lock and key, “for hiding secrets inside,” her mother had told her. The only issue with such a gift was that Pomni had nothing to hide for the past 9 years, until this week.

She took the tiny brass key from her pocketbook and opened the lock, taking out the bottle of laudanum from inside. Alton entrusted her with the responsibility of hiding the narcotic before he left for Blackshell Bay. She swished the liquid about inside the glass bottle. About five drops or so left. She’d need a new bottle in two days. Today was the first reduction of his dosage since he started the tapering process. She hoped he took the news well.

—

“I’m only to receive one drop?’” Jax cried, sitting up in bed.

“That’s correct. Those were Alton’s instructions,” Pomni replied. She set down his sick bucket beside the bed after washing it in the tub.

“I… I don’t believe I’m ready.” Jax said.

“Yes, I know. Will you please open your mouth?” Pomni squeezed the bladder of the tincture dropper, filling it with brown liquid.

Jax did so, Pomni putting a lone drop of laudanum on his tongue. She replaced the dropper and tucked it into her purse.

“…Apologies. That sounded quite cold. I struggle with empathetic language…” she admitted as she placed her purse on the cluttered desk. “What I meant to say is that… I know you’re frightened. I have never felt withdrawals, but I have been ill before. And I can only imagine how dreadful it would be to have the symptoms last this long…”

She picked up her novel and dragged the desk chair to the side of the bed.

“But, you have my word that I won’t leave your bedside without prior notice. I will keep you company for as long as you like. If you’d like for me to stay up all evening with you, then I shall. Insomnia is a symptom of withdrawal, is it not? I am no stranger to reading until the sun comes up. Although I may need to rest my voice as I’ve come dreadfully close to losing it the past few days.”

Pomni looked Jax in the eye and smiled.

“I’m quite fond of you, Jax. Therefore, I’m willing to help you through this.”

She quickly glanced away and itched a spot on her arm, but a trace of a smile remained. Jax felt his face warm up as he smiled right back.

“I’m quite fond of you as well, Pomni. You know, we should consider marriage.”

Pomni squinted and looked at Jax. She caught onto his jest after a few moments and smiled, then laughed. Jax laughed with her. For a few precious seconds, he entirely forgot about opium.

—

Pomni made good on her promise. She remained at Jax’s bedside the entire day, leaving only to use the restroom or to rinse out Jax’s sick bucket. Jax’s symptoms, unsurprisingly, worsened. He developed a high fever of 101 degrees, complete with chills and cold sweats, and his nausea worsened. As such, they needed to close the window to keep any drafts out. Pomni had donned one of Alton’s peppermint oil masks to curb the resultant entrapped odor, occasionally refreshing it to keep from going “scent-blind.”

The morning became the afternoon, which drifted into the evening. Pomni read the last sentence of The Ties that Bind just before sunset, closing the novel and clearing her throat.

“How did you enjoy it?” she rasped. Her voice was largely spent, but she wore an eager smile.

“My dear, it was wonderful. What an ending.” Jax said. “Mr. Goethe really knew how to tie up every loose end. I can’t say I was expecting Garvey to end up being the one to eliminate The Grande Masquerade. I suppose it fits the theme of the class war though, does it not?”

Pomni nodded in agreement. She cleared her throat again and stood. “I shall return in a moment. I’d like to get something for my throat. But I believe it’s time for your laudanum.”

Pomni gave her fiancé another solitary drop of opium. It wouldn’t be enough to stop the symptoms, but it would hopefully decrease their severity. She was going to up his melatonin dosage tonight. While those vitamins could also be habit forming, they were hardly as dangerous as opium… and Jax needed some rest.

She left for a while, returning the laudanum bottle back into her false book at home, obtained several real books from her father’s library and brought them to Jax’s room, and made a pot of coffee in Kinger’s kitchen. She had no need for coffee, as she got plenty of sleep and was gifted (and cursed) with excellent focus. But she planned on staying up as long as Jax was awake tonight. That could be until midnight, or the witching hour, or sunrise. And for that, she would need caffeine. Not only that, but a hot drink on her weary throat would feel excellent. She thought about making Jax a cup as well, but decided against it. The last thing he needed was some kind of stimulant.

She opted for warm milk instead. Although, given her dreadful track record with cooking, she asked Kinger for assistance.

“Why certainly, Ms. Shutnyk! I remember when I used to make you some warm milk when you couldn’t sleep for the winter solstice! I’ll be just a moment!”

Kinger put a saucepan of milk with a spoonful of honey on the stove. Pomni grinned a bit at his enthusiasm. He really was a natural father figure… She always thought it a dreadful shame that he had no children. Perhaps it would have benefited his mental well-being…

Children. Again, she was on the subject of having children. …Later. There were other, more pressing concerns at the moment.

She poured herself some coffee, borrowing some of Kinger’s milk and a few lumps of sugar. After stirring them into the mug, turning the shiny black disk of coffee light brown, she had Kinger pour her some of the warm milk in a separate mug, the older shapeman saving the rest for himself.

“My appreciation as always, Mr. Kinger,” Pomni rasped. “We really don’t deserve your hospitality.”

“Hogwash,” Kinger waved his hand. “I’m honored to assist your fiancé on his journey to self-betterment. Hurry along now before your milk cools or it will no longer be soporific.”

Kinger placed a small, fatherly kiss on Pomni’s forehead before exiting the kitchen with his share of warm milk. Pomni smiled and went upstairs with the two steaming mugs. She’d have to set a few days aside to visit Kinger after the wedding.

Perhaps more than a few. Lovable old fool.

—

Pomni sat at the desk in Jax’s room with an oil lamp for light, reading a wordy narrative poem from one of the anthologies she brought over. She brought two disused and cobwebbed lamps from around the estate into the room, one for her and another for Jax. As she suspected, the warm milk did little to actually help the rabbit fall asleep, but that was why she brought over an abundance of reading material. If he was to be stuck awake through the wee hours of the night, it was just as well he had something to do…

He sat up in bed reading a lean novel at the moment, Superhuman by Dean Rush. A well-written, if rather self-important 150 pages detailing a man’s rejection of the bland and unfeeling social norms of the time. Pomni often joked to herself that if the main character was female, the story would balloon from 150 to 1500 pages with all of the obstacles she would have to endure.

The coffee, unsurprisingly, worked a treat. Pomni quaffed her mug of the brew in a half-hour or so, and her brain was suddenly operating at 120%. She drummed a finger on her thigh rapidly as she read through the epic poem in front of her. She wished she had brought over her pen and some paper so she could do a proper close reading of the poem, but the mosquitos would be rampant at this hour so a trip to her house wasn’t worth the bites.

What was the hour at the moment, she wondered. She glanced over her shoulder at the clock. 2:20 AM. Goodness. She hadn’t stayed up this late in years… The last time she could recall was in her teens, when she endeavored to finish the third volume of Berndt Isley’s Sycamore before the fourth volume hit the shelves that December. She succeeded, but the next day was perhaps the only time her teacher ever gave her a demerit for sleeping in class. She didn’t regret it one bit.

There was a flutter and soft thump, Pomni’s ultra-alert face flicking over to the source like a watchdog. Jax had slumped over, the Rush novel sliding off his lap onto the floor. He snored softly. Pomni gave a mildly amused “hmph,” picking up the novel and setting it on the desk. That book quite literally put him to sleep. Jesting aside, she was relieved for her fiancé. At last some respite…

She had no reason to sleep at the moment, as her brain still sparked with energy. But she did need the lavatory, so she excused herself to do so. Upon returning, she found Jax entangled in his bedclothes, eyes closed and mouth strained in a grimace. He gave a weak, far-off mewl of fear.

“Jax…?” Pomni whispered. Her voice had yet to fully return.

Jax laid still a moment before thrashing about, mumbling something.

“Jax, you’re having a nightmare,” Pomni whispered, going over to the side of his bed.

Jax laid still again for almost a full minute, then cocked his head to one side and squinted his eyes. He mumbled again, this time clearly enough to be understood.

“No… father…” He gave another whimper of fear and rolled onto his side, curling his knees to his chest.

Pomni hesitated, and after a few moments of trepidation, placed her hand on his shoulder. It quaked, and sweat dampened his nightshirt. She felt the familiar burning sensation on her hand, like she had placed it on a hot kettle and needed to remove it immediately.

“Jax, it’s me… It’s Pomni, please wake up..!” she whispered. She jostled his shoulder, fighting the urge to pull her hand free.

Jax’s yellow eyes shot open with a gasp, and he scrambled backwards on the bed, pressing himself to the wall.

“FATHER- no, please, I didn’t… …What?” Jax looked around, his mind not fully cogent yet. He glanced all around the room for where Drexl may have hidden, but, seeing only Pomni, he slumped against the wall, breathing unsteadily.

“…I’m afraid you were having a nightmare, Jax.” Pomni whispered. “A shame, you had just fallen asleep…”

“Father… he hasn’t-?” Jax muttered.

“Your father is not here. You’re not in any danger, I promise you…” Pomni whispered.

Jax looked down at himself and nodded. His eyes were bleary and expression flat, but the soft quivering of his ears betrayed his fear.

“Jax…” Pomni began. She suddenly felt an overpowering urge. Perhaps her inhibitions were lowered by the caffeine, or perhaps a latent feeling had at last bloomed within her, but she climbed onto the bed. Jax turned to look at her.

“Miss Pomni…?” he asked.

“Please don’t speak. Just… hush.” Pomni whispered. She knelt on the bed and chewed her thumbnail. “Oh, blazes… 1… 2… 3.”

She hugged him. His rail-thin body jolted at the sudden gesture. Pomni squeezed him, ignoring the muggy warmth of his shirt, as well as the dampness of sweat down his back. She put a cheek to his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat, which surely matched her own. He put a paw on her back in reply.

She wanted so badly to release him, her body pleaded that it stop touching another living, breathing thing. And yet, bafflingly, she wouldn’t have let him go for the world. He didn’t deserve to suffer, especially not on his own.