#you know what. enchanting ghost too let's do the full set of 3

[unopenablebox]

after an unknown number of years in which i did not listen to sufjan stevens i think im ready to get back into it

[jacquirebriggs]

A Really Fair and Sincere and Proper Review of an 8-Bit Final Fantasy 4 port.

My Gameplay: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLf09CtI2VGXoyA4U0ot9QyIIylm4AvIiU

Alright. I know this place is not the best for Video Game reviews, but I want to get this out to advertise my stuff on my channel and before I ghost the place for good. I did a review on this game already, but it was short and the words move too fast. This time, I am going to make a proper review on this bootleg I decided to play out of boredom while I was wondering what will be my next discord stream.

I present you:

Zui Zhong Huan Xiang IV Guang Yu An Shui Jing Fen Zheng

Like I said, this game is an unlicensed Chinese NEs port of Final Fantasy IV. That’s already a language barrier here The playable characters are the same as the original. The portraits are the same, just mushed up to NES Pallete. The NPCs on the other hand are a different perspective. Mostly due to their portraits. I believe they are taken from other games. Some I believe are from Megaman (The “Baron Soliders”), a Dragon Ball Z bootleg (Female NPCs, Scarmiglione, Cagnazzo), and some unknown Dark Fantasy Game (Golbez is one of them.) Can’t the bootleggers easily just take the Head Portrait sprite and make it the dialogue portrait and call it that? I can do it in five seconds. Besides, Golbez is armored from head to toe. Not unmasked lol. Also, why are Dark Knight Cecil and Kain’s overworld sprites are mixed up? Kain’s Overworld sprite clearly has dragon horns. Can they not tell the difference? I can go on about Scramiglione having Zemus’s sprite, Barbariccia having Bomb’s but this nitpicking will eat up most of the review. Let’s move on.

Music is the next thing I wish to talk about. When you hear Chrono Trigger music when you start the game, you know it’s a bootleg. Any music taken from Final Fantasy IV is near to nonexistent. The Battle Music for enemies is played on when you fight Bosses. Makes the bosses more irritating considering how long the mid to endgame bosses take to kill them. Regular enemies get a squashed-up sample of Final Fantasy II’s generic enemy fight. The FF2 chiptune is only the first verse over and over… while the FF4 music oddly has the full song for some reason. Did I mention both tunes distorts into monotone when I used a certain magic? (Google Translates says it is Psychic which attacks with a flashy gear.) I rather have the NES-fied FF4 battle themes like the other FF4 bootleg has. Hence why in later parts, I slapped Fanmade NES-styled FF4 music mainly because I am tired of hearing that same old sampling. FF4’s wide variety of music is for enchanting the setting and mood of the game. Since this is the NES, of course none of this exists. Instead, we got the aforementioned Chrono Trigger music in the start (and possibly the map and other towns?) and a very questionable music choice:

The Chocobo Theme in castle-related areas. This makes the scene with Golbez very hilarious, that I cannot take it seriously.

The story may be mostly the same to the original, but it differentiates as I play through the end. Before I cover the story, I want to talk about the battle system first.

Gameplay:

The battle system is simplistic. It’s not a clone of earlier Final Fantasy Games. You still have 5 party members at a time, but you don’t get any magic spells from the canon games. You have to equip a magic stone to use magic; only of a single certain element. This sadly locks the mages out of various elemental damage…not that it matters because of reasons I will go over. AoE Magic is unlocked so late and by the time you unlocked it, you will be only fighting one enemy at a time. Healing Magic is scarce. Only thing besides Asura summon is unlocked at leveling the light stone to 3 or 4 and it is outclassed. Nice. Unlike the Final Fantasy VII NES port created by the same company. It has summons. You get summons as you progress and talking to some guy on a sidequest story that he’ll go with someone on a honeymoon. Depending on how you time them, they can be useful for dishing out extra damage and makes bosses easier. This is where go to the biggest flaw: Level progression and zero enemy variety. You deal so little damage even at the endgame. You can keep attacking with your weapon and spam magic, but you’ll get nowhere on leveling them up. (Even then you must visit a store to upgrade them.) Late game is such a slog because of this. I know Chinese companies are known for making their unlicensed ports really hard, but there’s a difference between difficult and GODDAMN near impossible. The basic enemies are always the EXACT SAME no matter where you encounter them. The only think different are they scale with how far you progress Also, most of them are taken from FF3 (even a few of the bosses) with the occasional Toad and Goblin Enemies actually stolen from the original games and devamped for the NES. Scripted battles are eliminated. Wanna know which boss fights.

Story:

If Google Translate properly tells the truth, then the story is the exact same as the original FF4, just having various key event removed. The Other FF4 bootleg only cuts Optional Areas, Tower of Babil and Giant of Babil. This NES ports cuts most of the endgame areas! I pay respects to the lack of Leviathan and Bahamut summons. I don’t care if they’ll take long to unleash, still extra damage. Some events have been repurposed in other areas in the Rom’s limited area selection. The events in the Underworld area for example has been relocated to Mysidia without the Calcabrina fight. (That’s okay. That fight is so annoying for me anyway.) Because of this, the story at the end is way different compared to canon. To spoil:

Yang and Cid sacrifice themselves after you get Edge. Edward joins the party at the end instead of Kain. (If you’re not gonna readd Kain at the end, at least pick a character that is endgame worthy like…*points at Yang.) The ending is really different. After Fusoya and Golbez kill Zemus with Meteor, Kain appears out of nowhere and defeat them. Kain’s Hatred causes him to transform into Zeromus and he absorbs FuSoYa and Golbez to become unstoppable. Of course, until we slowly kill him. And then what happens next? Kain dies. Fusoya and Golbez are dead. There is no implication that Cid, Yang, and the twins survive. All it gives is Golbez’s spirit telling to forgive him as his soul moves with light and dark shining the world and then it boots you back to the title screen. With little fanfare. I wanna get mad because I like Kain a lot, but is parts of the story taken from the FF7 bootleg of the same company? This may explain it.

Difficulty:

I think we’ve reached the boiling point that I will review. Amongst the greatest sin of bootlegs: The Diffcultly. Bootlegs games are notorious for them being extremely difficult. This is no exception. Not getting helped by the tedious grinding system, either. There are two difficult gauntlets. The one in Baron ( I have to unequip Palom and Porom and set myself up for a hard time.), no breaks on Yang, Baigan and Cagnazzo. And the grueling hard Zeromus gauntlet. Yes, endgame is brutal. I must slow down the summons to beat Zeromus. Not helped by how much HP he has despite trying my best.

Overall:

I believe Kain becoming Zeromus is better than most of the whatifs in Alter Destiny (besides Rydia being antagonist to Cecil for killing her mother, but even then: everything else went downhill.) I still can’t forgive the grueling difficultly or the questionable choice for Kain’s replacement. Since this port is like a sister of the NES FF7 port made by the same company, the problems will be the same as of course. I could give it a 1/10 but it’s a bootleg, so it wouldn’t be fair and I’m reviewing this rom in the Dawn of 2024 for some reason. Let’s give a fair review in bootleg standards. I’ll give this game a:

3/10. 5/10 disregarding the brutal difficultly.

My gameplay of this thing: Here

Alright. I know this place is not the best for Video Game reviews, but I want to get this out to advertise my stuff on my channel and before I ghost the place for good. I did a review on this game already, but it was short and the words move too fast. This time, I am going to make a proper review on this bootleg I decided to play out of boredom while I was wondering what will be my next discord stream.

I present you:

Zui Zhong Huan Xiang IV Guang Yu An Shui Jing Fen Zheng

Also known as Final Fantasy IV: Light and Dark Crystal Conflict

Overall Setting:

Like I said, this game is an unlicensed Chinese NEs port of Final Fantasy IV. That’s already the language

Barrier here The playable characters are the same as the original. The portraits are the same, just mushed up to NES Pallete. The NPCs on the other hand are a different perspective. Mostly due to their portraits. I believe they are taken from other games. Some I believe are from Megaman (The “Baron Soliders”), a Dragon Ball Z bootleg (Female NPCs, Scarmiglione, Cagnazzo), and some unknown Dark Fantasy Game (Golbez is one of them.) Can’t the bootleggers easily just take the Head Portrait sprite and make it the dialogue portrait and call it that? I can do it in five seconds. Besides, Golbez is armored from head to toe. Not unmasked lol. Also, why are Dark Knight Cecil and Kain’s overworld sprites are mixed up? Kain’s Overworld sprite clearly has dragon horns. Can they not tell the difference? I can go on about Scramiglione having Zemus’s sprite, Barbarricia having Bomb’s but this nitpicking will eat up most of the review. Let’s move on.

Music is the next thing I wish to talk about. When you hear Chrono Trigger music when you start the game, you know it’s a bootleg. Any music taken from Final Fantasy IV is near to nonexistent. The Battle Music for enemies is played on when you fight Bosses. Makes the bosses more irritating considering how long the mid to endgame bosses take to kill them. Regular enemies get a squashed up sample of Final Fantasy II’s generic enemy fight. The FF2 chiptunr is only the first verse over and over… while the FF4 music oddly has the full song for some reason. Did I mention it distorts into monotone when I used a certain magic? (Google Translates says it is Psychic which attacks with a flashy gear.) I rather have the NES-fied FF4 battle themes like the other FF4 bootleg has. Hence why in later parts, I slapped Fanmade NES-styled FF4 music mainly because I’m tired of hearing that same old sampling. FF4’s wide variety of music is for enchanting the setting and mood of the game. Since this is the NES, of course none of this exists. Instead, we got the aforementioned Chrono Trigger music in the start (and possibly the map and other towns?) and a very questionable music choice:

The Chocobo Theme in castle-related areas. This makes the scene with Golbez very hilarious, that I can’t take it seriously.

The story may be mostly the same to the original, but it differentiates as I play through the end. Before I cover the story , I want to talk about the battle system first.

Gameplay:

The battle system is simplistic. It’s not a clone of earlier Final Fantasy Games. You still have 5 party members at a time, but you don’t get any magic spells from the canon games. You have to equip a magic stone to use magic; only of a certain elements. This sadly locks the mages out of various elemental damage…not that it matters because of reasons I will go over. AoE Magic is unlocked so late and by the time you unlocked it, you’ll be only fighting one enemy at a time. Healing Magic is scarce. Only thing besides Asura summon is unlocked at leveling the light stone to 3 or 4 and it’s outclassed. Nice. Unlike the Final Fantasy VII NES port created by the same company. It has summons. You get summons as you progress and talking to some guy on a sidequest story that he’ll go with someone on a honeymoon. Depending on how you time them, they can be useful for dishing out extra damage and makes bosses more easier. This is where go to the biggest flaw: Level progression and zero enemy variety. You deal so little damage even at the endgame. You can keep attacking with your weapon and spam magic, but you’ll get nowhere on leveling them up. (Even then you must visit a store to upgrade them.) Late game is such a slog because of this. I know Chinese companies are known for making their unlicensed ports really hard, but there’s a difference between difficult and GODDAMN near impossible. The basic enemies are always the EXACT SAME no matter where you encounter them. The only think different are they scale with how far you progress Also, most of them are taken from FF3 (even a few of the bosses) with the occasional Toad and Goblin Enemies actually stolen from the original games and devamped for the NES. Scripted battles are eliminated. Wanna know which boss fights .

Story:

If Google Translate properly tells the truth, then the story is the exact same as the original FF4, just having various key event removed. The Other FF4 bootleg only cuts Optional Areas, Tower of Babil and Giant of Babil. This NES ports cuts most of the endgame areas! I pay respects to the lack of Leviathan and Bahamut summons. I don’t care if they’ll take long to unleash, still extra damage. Some events have been repurposed in other areas in the Rom’s limited area selection. The events in the Underworld area for example has been relocated to Mysidia without the CalcaBrina fight. (That’s okay. That fight is so annoying for me anyway.) Because of this, the story at the end is way different compared to canon. To spoil:

Yang and Cid sacrifice themselves after you get Edge. Edward joins the party at the end instead of Kain. (If you’re not gonna readd Kain at the end, at least pick a character that is endgame worthy like…*points at Yang.) The ending is really different. After Fusoya and Golbez kill Zemus with Meteor, Kain appears out of nowhere and defeat them. Kain’s Hatred causes him to transform into Zeromus and he absorbs FuSoYa and Golbez to become unstoppable. Of course until we slowly kill him. And then what happens next? Kain dies. Fusoya and Golbez are dead. There is no implication that Cid, Yang, and the twins survive. All it gives is Golbez’s spirit telling to forgive him as his soul moves with light and dark shining the world and then it boots you back to the title screen. With little fanfare. I wanna get mad because I like Kain a lot, but is parts of the story taken from the FF7 bootleg of the same company? This may explain it.

Difficulty:

I think we’ve reached the boiling point that I will review. Amongst the greatest sin of bootlegs: The Diffcultly. Bootlegs games are notorious for them being extremely difficult. This is no exception. Not getting helped by the tedious grinding system, either. There are two difficult gauntlets. The one in Baron ( I have to unequip Palom and Porom and set myself up for a hard time.), no breaks on Yang, Baigan and Cagnazzo. And the grueling hard Zeromus gauntlet. The Tower of Zot streak comes close to being one of them. Thankfully, you can lose to Golbez when only Tellah fights him, but if you unequipped Kain and Rosa beforehand prepare for a very hard Barbariccia battle. Yes, endgame is brutal. I must slow down the summons to beat Zeromus. Not helped by how much HP he has despite trying my best.

Overall:

I believe Kain becoming Zeromus is better than most of the whatifs in Alter Destiny (besides Rydia being antagonist to Cecil for killing her mother, but even then everything else went downhill.) I still can’t forgive the grueling difficultly or the questionable choice for Kain’s replacement. Since this port is like a sister of the NES FF7 port made by the same company, the problems will be the same as of course. I could give it a 1/10 but it’s a bootleg, so it wouldn’t be fair and I’m reviewing this rom in the Dawn of 2024 for some reason. Let’s give a fair review in bootleg standards. I’ll give this game a:

3/10. 5/10 disregarding the brutal difficultly. It’s not the worst bootleg game. At least it can be finished without cheating if you’re determined. Unlike the other FF4, the three parter, where the game bugs out in the second part in Dark Elf Cave where you cannot move after entering. Someone I’ve watched have to do some hex editing on a save state to pull through. I’m pretty there’s something way worse that I won’t be aware of its existence.

Final Fantasy IV runs on the SNES system for a good reason.

[readyplayerhobi]

Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 04

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 5.2k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: I swear, it’s so hard getting back into writing because I’m permanently convinced that everything I write is bad lol. If you enjoy reading this, please let me know by leaving me an ask or writing a comment on a reblog! I appreciate all the comments I get and it helps to inspire me on <3

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

-

The Winter Solstice Ball was a newer tradition at Hogwarts. Before the Battle of Hogwarts, there hadn’t been anything resembling the ball that would happen. The closest you knew of was the Yule Ball, but that only occurred whenever there was a Tri-Wizard Tournament. 

Something that hadn’t occurred since the unfortunate events of 1994, when poor Cedric Diggory had been murdered by the dark wizard Voldemort. As expected, it had been mutually agreed that the tournament should no longer continue to ensure there could never be another event like Diggory’s death.

Admittedly, that had been a rather unique set of circumstances. The inclusion of the wizard, Harry Potter, in the Tournament had been arranged by dark wizards on the behest of Voldemort, meaning that Diggory’s death had been even more tragic as he wasn’t meant to be there. 

In an attempt to bring more cheer to what should be a happy holiday, Hogwarts had started the Winter Solstice Ball tradition. Unlike the Yule Ball, all years were invited to attend and it also wasn’t on Christmas Day. Instead, it was held on the last day of term and was just a fun event for everyone to enjoy and let off some steam after their first semester back.

You’d always enjoyed it as a student; feeling like a grownup during the first few years and using it as a great way to flirt with boys when you were older. There hadn’t been a year that you hadn’t loved going to it.

It felt a little odd this time though as you were attending as a professor, which meant you had the job of chaperoning all the excited students for the evening. As such, you were excited for an entirely different reason as you would get to watch the First Year’s experience of the ball.

The House Elves had gone all out when decorating the Great Hall today, bringing the feeling of winter inside and taking your breath away. Standing by the open doors, you look around cavernous space with wide eyes and a bright smile. Chaeyoung was next to you, a dress of starlight gracing her body and highlighting just how beautiful she is.

You’d already complimented her as soon as you’d spotted her, admiring the elegant design of her dress and how the tiny crystals are sewn into the fabric reminded you so much of sunlight hitting frost on a winter’s day. Her long black hair was curled into soft waves with her fringe pinned away from her face with a delicate snowflake.

Where she was all light and ice, you were the sumptuous darkness of winter. Your dress was a sumptuous royal blue around your chest which slowly blended into deep midnight by your feet, a shawl of the lightest chiffon in a dark blue around your shoulders. Silver glinted occasionally, threads of it woven through the fabric of your dress and adding a little sparkle alongside the dainty silver necklace around your neck.

The two of you made a striking pair and the combination of a full face of beautiful makeup combined with the jaw-dropping dress made you feel like the prettiest girl in the room. Whether that was true or not, you didn’t care.

The hall itself matched the colour scheme of you both with long swathes of gauzy fabric in rich lavender, crisp white and shimmering silver decorating the tall windows and streaming from the ceiling. Tonight, the ceiling had been enchanted to show clouds backlit by a full moon and tiny flakes of snow fell. They didn’t reach the ground though, melting away a few metres away from the tallest person in the room.

Candles lit the room in all corners, hovering in the air and situated around the room and the tables. A large open space in the centre of the hall was reserved for dancing while a raised section before it hosted the musical entertainment for the night. Small tables surrounded the floor, each only big enough for six people and with white cloths embroidered with tiny snowflakes in silver.

Platters piled high with finger foods dotted the tables alongside empty goblets and jugs of pumpkin juice and butterbeer. A few of the ghosts that haunted Hogwarts floated through the tables, greeting the formally dressed students with cheer and getting into a few conversations with some of them.

Already the hall was filling nicely, students greeting you happily as they rushed inside to meet up with friends and a few of them had already begun to dance. Some of them danced together, trying to figure out how to ballroom dance with the typical awkwardness of teenagers discovering their hormones, and others danced in friend groups. The latter seemed to just be having fun, shaking their bodies wildly to the beat of the music.

“I remember doing that.” Gesturing towards a group of mixed house Fourth Years, you grin at Chaeyoung before chuckling at the memory of dancing like that with Jisoo, Robert and Candace. That had been your ‘group’ of loyal friends throughout your years at Hogwarts, though only Jisoo had remained a close friend once you’d all left.

“Merlin...me too. I had no rhythm back then. Still don’t. Dancing is not for me.” Chuckling, you lean into her and push until she staggers away from you a little before returning the gesture. Glancing around the hall, you note the more introverted people sitting at the tables and sipping at drinks. They don’t seem to be uncomfortable but you resolve to check up on them throughout the night to make sure they’re okay.

“One thing I do love about working with such handsome men here? They make the ball so much better to enjoy.” Chaeyoung hums over the top of her goblet of butterbeer, her refined brows rising in amusement as she looks across the hall. Following her gaze, you have to hide a smile as you take in the sight of some of Hogwarts most eligible bachelor professors and how well they smarten up.

Park Jimin is standing next to Kim Taehyung, his silver hair styled even more elegantly than normal while his dress robes look to have been perfectly tailored to his slim body. A white bow tie adorns his neck and he’s smiling at whatever Taehyung had told him. The Gryffindor Head has his usual boxy smile and you note that he scrubs up just as nicely. Together, they make a lethal pair in terms of looks.

“Now, now,” You muse lightly, looking over to Chaeyoung with mischief on your face. “We’re here to chaperone, not to swoon over good looking men like the teenagers we teach.”

A derisive snort is the only response she gives you, but you see that she’s not taken her eyes off the two younger men. Idly, you wonder which would make the perfect partner for her. You’d consider Taehyung to be a good candidate as their fun-loving natures would get on well, but there’s something about Jimin that makes you think he’d be an even better pick.

She wouldn’t even have to change her last name.

Any more thoughts you have on the subject vanish when the newest professor walks through the door. Black hair made darker from some kind of styling gel is swept up from his forehead, a strand or two falling stubbornly and giving him an almost charming appearance. Deep black robes sweep from his shoulders, covering up a suit that highlights his body in all the right ways.

Unlike Jimin and Taehyung, his outfit was completely black and you swallowed instinctively as you let your eyes run down his frame. Hoseok pauses at the doorway, pink lips moving as he talks to Nayeon, the divination professor. She looks pretty in a floaty dress of bubblegum pink and fizzing lilac, her smile genuine and eyes sparkling as she looks up at him.

Lips twisting, you turn away from the sight and don’t even notice the way Chaeyoung is watching you closely, her lips turning up in a smile she tries to hide. Looking away from you, she catches Seokjin’s questioning expression across the hall and nods at him subtly, enjoying the way the astronomy professor gets a determined look on his face.

“Speaking of men who are too beautiful to be real, Jung Hoseok always looks so good at these events. How is a man like that allowed to even exist?” There’s a breathy note to Chaeyoung’s voice, causing you to frown at her a little before looking back over in his direction. 

Nayeon is still standing there, a forlorn expression gracing her face as she watches Hoseok move away from her. It’s only then that you realise he’s walking towards you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. Confusingly, you’re a little unsure of what to do or how to act.

Not when he’s looking like that. This is not the shy and awkward Hoseok with his dress robes too big for him, the only memory you have of him at the Winter Solstice Ball. He couldn’t be any further from that teenager and you don’t know how to handle that.

Especially when he gives you that breathtaking smile, his cheeks rising and dimpling while his dark eyes shine in delight. You should’ve known the Jung genes would result in him growing into an attractive man; his sister was one of the most beautiful people you’d ever seen.

“Y/N, Chaeyoung,” He bows his head to you both, that smile just as prominent and you nod back to him a little awkwardly. “You both look beautiful tonight. Winter is personified with your colours, it’s nice.” 

For a moment, you’re a little lost for words on how to respond to him. You couldn’t recall the last time you’d been so casually complimented, especially from a man. A man as attractive as him. It causes you to swallow wrong and you cough loudly, pressing a hand to your throat.

“Thanks, you’re looking pretty fine yourself tonight,” Chaeyoung teases him, causing that smile to become a little more bashful. “Anyway, I’m going to leave you two alone for a moment, okay? I need to go talk to Seokjin about something.”

You watch her go with wide eyes, noting with suspicion that she’s moving a little faster than you’d expect and you wonder if she’s up to something. But then you realise that you’re being left alone with Hoseok, who’s casually looking you up and down while you’re attention is elsewhere.

It’s only when he catches your eye when you look back, a brow raised, that he realises you’ve caught him. Hoseok turns his head quickly, probably giving himself whiplash and you have to hide the snort at the soft blush on his cheeks.

He may be all grown up now, but he still reminded you of that shy boy who never quite knew how to talk to you.

Reaching out, you poke at his chest and grin at him.

“She’s right, you are looking good tonight. Cleaned up very well.” Hoseok gives you a droll stare and you laugh, feeling any awkwardness rushing away as you both fall into the easy-going nature of your friendship.

The rest of the evening goes by in much the same manner with the two of you separating on occasion to handle issues with students or just to do a walk around. Apart from that though, you both end up spending more time with each other than with anyone else. Conversation flows easily like a fast-moving river and you find yourself laughing more than you have in a while.

You only have to break up one fight between two young boys; the culmination of weeks of tension between the two finally bubbling over. It starts with raised voices before escalating to blows, resulting in you escorting the two to Madame Pomfrey to check for any injuries. After that, you leave them in the hands of Park Jimin to discipline them given their house.

When you get back, you look around for Hoseok or Chaeyoung. You can’t see either of them, causing you to take up a place at the back against the wall to observe for any fallout from the fight. Thankfully, the mood seems to have picked up and you wonder if that’s got anything to do with the more upbeat music that’s being played.

It was never nice watching your students get into fights with each other or lose friendships, but you knew that was part of growing up. The thing about teenagers, and kids, was that they were incredibly resilient. You did not doubt that they would both be back to being friends within a week or so.

“All sorted?” Comes a deep voice to the right, the sound closer than you expected and causing you to jump slightly. Turning to look, you note that Hoseok has turned up out of nowhere and you relax at the sight of his familiar face.

“Yeah, no injuries to each other apart from wounded pride and friendships.” That causes Hoseok to snort and roll his eyes, leaning back against the wall alongside you. Suddenly, you recall how many times Jisoo complained of having to comfort her brother when he’d had yet another fight during his tenure at Hogwarts.

“I’m sure you know all about that, Mr Jung. I remember Jisoo having to deal with you. You were shy but a firecracker.” He sighs deeply and you lean into him, giggling as you regale him with some of the tales she’d told you. Thankfully, he takes it all with his usual good nature and you end up segueing into other memories of your time at Hogwarts.

The exams and the studying, the professors back then and your favourite subjects. It’s something he already knows as you’ve both discussed it previously, but he indulges you and listens amiably while keeping an eye out.

You’re stopped though when he suddenly interrupts you, straightening slightly.

“Would you like to dance? There’s not as many people out there now and you haven’t danced once tonight.” His question is abrupt, causing you to falter in your conversation. Narrowing your eyes, you look him over closely and wonder if he’s being serious. And you conclude that he is.

Looking over at the dance floor, you contemplate for a moment and chew your lip before nodding. Now it’s your turn to feel shy, avoiding his gaze and trying not to catch the eye of anyone else in the hall as he leads you carefully to the floor. 

There’s probably a few statues in the British Museum that are less stiff than you as you turn to him, feeling his hand as he settles it on your lower back. You’re hyper-aware of that hand; how hot it feels against you even with the fabric of the dress between you. But that pales in comparison to the feel of his hand against your own, the way he holds it almost tenderly.

Logically, you know that he’s doing that because that’s how you’re supposed to dance like this. A light touch, but it makes you feel a little strange. You’re not sure why it makes you feel like that and you find yourself staring at his long fingers, wondering if he kept up the piano he’d been taught when younger.

The music leads you both in the dance, each beat dictating where you move and you’re vaguely aware of the students dancing around you. None of them are staring or looking confused as there had been many professors who had danced together tonight. But you couldn’t help but feel like this dance was a little different.

This was the closest you’d ever been to Hoseok and his body is so close to your own that you can physically feel the heat coming from him. Every breath you take brings the smell of him into your nose, the familiar mix of rich wood and lemongrass that is so, undeniably Hoseok. And underlying all that is the smell that’s unique to him.

“Is this okay?” He asks quietly and you stare at the black button-up covering his chest, avoiding his gaze given how close the two of you are. It’s probably not the best thing to do when you realise that shirt is straining a little and you can see the outline of his torso from the light of the nearby candles.

Swallowing hard, you look over his shoulder and try to ignore the sudden knowledge that Hoseok is buff beneath his clothes. Which doesn’t help, because you find your eye trailing down his chest as you consider. It’s only when you reach his belt buckle that you suddenly look away, taking a deep breath and wondering what was wrong with you.

You’d had one too many butterbeers tonight or something, which was a terrible excuse as it had such little alcohol content that it didn’t even matter. This was Jisoo’s brother, her little brother. Not someone you should be thinking about half-naked.

Right?

Finally, though, you register his question and nod quickly in response. You’re not sure that you can talk to him without saying something inappropriate as your brain isn’t working very well right now. Not when you’re so confused about...well everything.

“Are you sure? You’ve gone a little weird. Quiet.” Hoseok murmurs, his voice low to avoid any of the students overhearing it. Sighing, you stand a little straighter before looking at him directly and giving him a firm smile. It takes a little more effort than you’d like to push away those errant thoughts but you do so.

“Fine, just worried about those students. I hate seeing their friendship ruined and them angry at each other, you know?” It’s not a lie as you are still concerned about them, but he doesn’t need to know everything going on in your head. Which is why you’re thankful when he nods slowly before spinning you around.

“They’ll be okay. I’ve been doing this job long enough to know that they’ll be back to being friends sooner rather than later. They’ve already got some of that testosterone out by punching each other, which I’d rather they didn’t do but Jimin will talk it out with them. Don’t worry too much, they’ll be fine.” It’s sweet how considerate he’s being and you can hear how genuine he is in his voice. 

You don’t get to say anything else though as the tempo increases when the song switches over, causing Hoseok to twirl you away from him with a laugh. All around you the dances start to get a little more energetic and you can’t help but shriek with joy as he matches the student’s enthusiasm, listening to them as they cheer at two of their professors getting involved in the frivolities.

Neither of you notices the way Seokjin and Chaeyoung watch you both closely before smirking at each other.

-

Glancing around the room, you note how most of the students had already left and gone to bed for the night. The clock had struck midnight a while ago and you had to press a hand to your mouth as you yawned, turning your head away to be polite. A few remaining students were still dancing on the floor but even as you watched, some of them started to walk towards the exit.

Looking over at Chaeyoung, you caught her eye with a wave and smiled with relief when she nodded and made a shooing gesture. Turning to Hoseok, you tried to hide another yawn and almost giggled when you saw that he’d caught one from you, his mouth wide as he didn’t even try to hide it.

“I think we can go now. Chaeyoung gestured that we can leave so I think they’re going to hustle the last students to bed. Something which I’m also very excited to do because I feel like I’ve been awake for two days right now.” Blinking and almost trying to stretch your eyelids by widening them as far as you could, you almost missed the way Hoseok laughed at your antics.

“Tired? It’s not even two in the morning, I expected better of you.” He teases, gently pushing his elbow into your arm before avoiding your hand as you try to swat him. You’d admit that he looked a lot more awake than you did, which you’d say wasn’t fair but you don’t think you’ve ever truly seen him look tired.

“Well, you’re still young and spry. You’ll learn when you get to my age.” Moving off towards the doors of the Great Hall, you grab a tiny triangular sandwich from one of the remaining platters on a table as you pass by.

Light pressure on the small of your back causes you to arch slightly, your chest moving forward and you tilt your head to look at your companion. There’s no expression on Hoseok’s face, nothing to indicate he’s affected by touching you and you frown slightly as you wonder why it’s affecting you.

“You’re not old, I don’t know why you keep thinking that.” He murmurs, voice deep and quiet.

Neither of you says anything more for a few minutes, instead just walking quietly through the hallways. It’s a comfortable silence and you muse for a moment on how much you’ve come to enjoy spending time with him. You would happily say that he was your closest friend here at Hogwarts; something you would’ve never thought would happen when you were studying here and he was just your best friend’s little brother.

That makes you think of how defensive he always gets whenever you, or anyone else, seems to imply that you’re old. Huffing out a laugh, you bite your lip as you contemplate that for a second. Maybe he doesn’t like the implication that you, and by extension, his sister, are considered ‘older’ by the students. Or that he’s also approaching thirty.

The student’s opinions have never bothered you as they think anyone over the age of twenty is old. Nor have you been concerned overall, given the extended lifespan that witches had compared to muggles. You were finally feeling content with your career and your life, something you attested partly to growing older and becoming more at ease with yourself.

But he always got so defensive of it, so maybe he was concerned about himself.

“You don’t have to keep defending my age, you know,” Apparently you were going to query this with him and you blamed the butterbeer for loosening up your tongue. “I’m okay with it, honestly. Which means I’m okay with joking about it.”

Hoseok stiffened slightly and you spotted his expression looking a little uneasy. Frowning, you placed a hand on his arm and pulled him to a stop. Your quarters were only a few corridors away now and the two of you were given a warm glow from the candles lit nearby. 

“I’m not defending...I mean, okay maybe I am. I just...I don’t want you to feel like it’s an issue.” Now you’re giving him an amused look, lip quirked up on one side as you try to hold in a small giggle.

“It’s not an issue. Have I made it seem like it was?” Tilting your head, you watch as his eyes dart across your face in an almost shy manner.

“No...well, not in the way you might think,” He looks uncomfortable and you’re about to tell him it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to continue but he does so before you get the chance to speak. “I’m just made every aware of our age difference. You know, the whole ‘you’re her best friend’s little brother’ thing.”

“Hey, I don’t do that, do I?” Now you’re a little concerned.

“No, not really. Not for a while anyway. You did when you first got here but I understood that. We hadn’t met in a while and everyone was curious about how we knew each other. But now...I don’t even know what I’m talking about. Honestly, it’s not important. You’re right.” Hoseok’s babbling a bit but you decide to let him change the conversation. You’re not entirely sure why it truly bothers him, but you’re not going to press it anyway. He deserves to have his feelings and they don’t need to be analysed.

“Okay-” Before you can say anything else, you hear the quiet chiming of bells and frown in confusion. The sound echoes a little in the empty corridor, simultaneously creepy and also ethereal. 

Hoseok looks around as well, his brow knitted in confusion before he suddenly spots something about you both. Following him, you note the odd plant that’s grown from the ceiling out of nowhere. The green branches are still growing and you note with interest the small white berries that seem to be forming and familiar leaf shapes appear at the end of each branch.

A red ribbon is delicately wrapped around the stems and you see the little golden bells that let out tiny chimes as they rock from side to side in a non-existent breeze. Now you’re the one frowning as you look around you both, trying to spot who’d set a mistletoe charm to grow when someone walked beneath it.

“Mistletoe?” Hosek whispers, reaching up with one hand in an attempt to touch it. He can’t reach it and you sigh, shaking your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Someone has thought it’d be funny to put mistletoe charms around the castle for the ball. Certainly adds to the Christmas spirit. I’ve seen these popping up all night above couples on the dance floor. I think it’s a seasonal Weasley thing, seems like something they’d sell to annoy people.”

The mistletoe is suddenly snowing, letting tiny snowflakes drift to the ground around you both and leaving fluffy snow to settle on Hoseok’s hair and dress robes. How very romantic, you muse to yourself.

“Does it just disappear on its own after a while?” He asks, running his fingers through his hair to try and get rid of some of the snow. Smiling at him, you gently brush at his shoulders only to decide it’s a losing battle as more snow lands.

“Nope. You gotta kiss, that’s the whole point of mistletoe, right? Otherwise, it follows you around.” Hoseok sighs deeply and rolls his eyes.

“Of course it does. Definitely a Weasley thing.”

Looking back up at the mistletoe, and having to blink to avoid getting snowflakes in your eyes, you purse your lips before looking back at Hoseok. You’d long since come to terms with the fact that you find him attractive; anyone with eyes can see that. But you hadn’t planned on doing anything about it, not given who he was and who his sister was to you.

His words from earlier play through your mind though, and you wonder if he hates having to constantly know he’s given the best friend’s little brother status. Even now, months after you’d arrived and you considered him a friend, you knew that there were still people who thought of that as the most defining characteristic of your friendship.

Letting out a little sigh, you straighten your shoulders before reaching out and taking hold of his dress robes. Fuck it, you’re not one to waste a perfect chance.

Pulling him closer, you watch as his eyes dart to yours and widen when he realises that you’re moving towards him as well. And then those same eyes flick to your lips, the movement so fast that you’d almost miss it if it wasn’t for the fact that he did again only seconds later. 

Combined with the zero resistance he was giving, you came to the solid conclusion that he wasn’t going to reject you. Not when you were giving him plenty of time and reason to back out if he wanted to.

Tilting your head to him, you felt his warm breath as it caressed your face, the smell of butterbeer strong. And then your lips are pressed together, neither of you sure who made the final move and neither of you gives a damn at that exact moment. 

The pressure of your lips against each other is gentle at first, almost hesitant as both of you try to figure out where to go from here. All that was required was a kiss, which was what you were both doing right now. But you didn’t quite want to let him go just yet, not when you knew he probably had so much more to offer.

Shifting, you manoeuvred your way into a position that made the kiss a little more personal and no longer like two teenagers who’d never kissed in their life. Letting go of his robes, your arms move to wrap around his neck and you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying how soft the black strands feel against your fingers.

A quiet noise leaves Hoseok, his arms sliding around your waist to pull you a little closer to him while he kisses you more forcefully than before. It feels...you can’t even find the words to describe how it feels, only knowing that you’re not entirely sure you want him to stop.

Any hesitation has disappeared between you both and you simply lose yourself to the delightful feeling of Jung Hoseok against your lips, against your body and how he feels under your fingertips. It’s only when he moves a little further, his tongue asking for entrance to fire up the kiss even more, that you suddenly come to your senses.

Pushing back from him, you stare with wide eyes and only just realise that the bells have stopped. A glance up shows the mistletoe is gone and you breathe a little heavily, not realising that you’d kissed him that forcefully until now. Hoseok looks just as out of breath with an odd look in his eyes that you can’t quite figure out.

Licking at your lips, and trying to ignore the knowledge that you could probably taste him right now, you run your hands down the front of your dress robes before giving him a slightly awkward smile. Coughing, you turn your eyes away from the strangely intense gaze he’s giving you.

“Erm, well it’s gone now. So...we’re not gonna be followed by mistletoe anymore,” Playing with your fingers, you wonder if you made a very bad decision tonight. “I, erm, I’m gonna go to bed now. It’s late and...well...yeah. Thank you, for walking me here and spending time with me, you know, dancing and all that. It was nice, I had a good time and thank you. Yeah, I already thanked you. Err...get to bed safely, okay? I mean, I…” 

Hoseok reaches out and takes hold of your nervous hands. It makes you jump nervously, but he just gives a reassuring smile while rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Y/N...it’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go to sleep and have good dreams.” There’s no annoyance in his voice, no anger or outrage that you’ve gone from initiating that kiss to acting very strange in only seconds. 

“Yeah...I...you too. You too.” Frowning as you walked away from him, you wondered what in Merlin’s beard you’d just done.

[enchantedblackrose]

All the Pieces Pt 3

Gif not mine. Full credit to the owner. Taken from Google Images

All the Pieces

Sirius Black/Fem Reader

Warnings: unedited, mild language, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of underage drinking, small mention of bullying. Lengthy author's notes at the end. Also this was a huge PIA to write so hopefully it doesn't read too disconnected

Part 1|| Part 2|| Part 4|| Part 5

Part 3 of ?

When you touch me gently I remember how you know And the sun shines rings around your smile And I'm here laughing like a child -Pieces, Dan Powell

If it was any other person on your doorstep, you'd probably berate them for inducing that almost heart attack you just experienced. Instead you grab the familiar face by the sleeve of his worn jacket, pulling him into your living room.

"I could deck you, Remus John Lupin. I thought someone came for him. Ugh. Come here." Your arms wrap  around him for a tight hug, which he returns. "He's here, Remus. He's safe." You feel Remus let out a deep sigh of relief. Pulling away, you look at him with gentle scrutiny, knowing what a toll last night took on him. "You look awful. Did you walk far? You should've told me you were coming. I could have met you."

Remus shakes his head. "I caught a train and apparated most of the way."

"Stop fussing over him, y/n. Let the poor man get past the door."  Sirius's teasing voice calls out from behind you; no doubt his canine ears allowed him to hear the familiar voice even through the closed bedroom door and knew it was safe to come down.

The two men embrace; this encounter being much more relaxed than their last. No Peter, no warranted need for revenge, no threat of execution.

As you all stand in your living room, a haunting thought hits you: you three are it, the last of your true friends. Peter is the traitor. You suppress a shudder, swearing to make the most of this moment.

"You know," you say with a grin, "I happen to have a large bottle of firewhisky. Fancy a drink, boys?" Sirius's grin mirrors your own. Remus has a small tentative smile, but it's all the encouragement you need to send you to the kitchen to fetch the bottle.

The small, quaint kitchen appears even smaller with the disregarded dishes from breakfast still sitting out on your table. The sight causes a small frown to appear on your face. All the rest of the morning and most of your afternoon had been lost to the unplanned nap with Sirius. You fill your sink with soap and hot water. A few flicks of your wand and your dirty dishes are submerged in the water, scrubbed, and rinsed. The process begins again as now clean plates make their way to the drying rack, which is concerning because you dont believe you cast a spell for that. Confused, you turn to see Remus in the kitchen. He winks and wordlessly reaches your top cabinet without so much of a stretch to retrieve the bottle of firewhisky. You follow him back to the livingroom, toting three glasses.

"Cheers to freedom," you say once everyone has a full glass, "and to being reunited with old friends."

"You hear that, Remus? She thinks we're old." You roll your eyes good naturedly. Remus rests a hand on Sirius's shoulder, giving it a brotherly pat. "We are old," he says simply, before all three of you raise your glasses to your lips, sipping at the burning liquid. You each settle comfortably in your living room. Remus sits in the armchair, leaving the overstuffed couch for Sirius and you. You sit at an end, while he opts for the middle seat, but in a respectable distance of your space. The bottle of alcohol sits in arms reached on the coffee table.

"I thought you swore off this stuff y/n." Remus says with a twinkle in his eye as he takes another drink from his glass. "You know, considering your history with it.." You groan and Sirius throws his head back in laughter.

"I almost forgot," Sirius says breathlessly from laughing. "Was that seventh year?"

"Sixth. Just before we got together. I suppose I was trying to impress you," you tell him.

"You matched me drink for drink that night."

"Which was mad seeing how I never had a drink before. I spent all next morning and afternoon in bed, throwing up. It was awful."

"You're forgetting the best part," Remus interjects.

"Dancing on top of that old table in the Shrieking Shack, singing the chorus of "Rock and Roll all Nite" at the top of my lungs was far from the best part. I only wish I could forget it."

"That wasn't singing, love. More like cats dying," Sirius quips while he and Remus laugh. You say nothing, well aware how accurate the description fits. You take a long drink from your glass.

"Yes, well as, uh, entertaining as that moment was, I wasn't referring to it," says Remus. You look at him questioningly. "Have you forgotten sneaking into the Slytherin boys' dorm, stealing all their robes, turning them hot pink, changing the crest to a mountain troll, and then returning them to the dorm?"

"Oh,  Merlin. That was the same night wasn't it? James had never been so keen on lending me his invisibility cloak until I concocted that plan!" The two men laugh and you join in.

"You know most of my other friends thought I was strange for being into muggle music." You say as the laughter dies down.

"Lily shouldn't have?" Sirius asks after he swallows his drink.

"No. You're forgetting Lily and I weren't friends first. We didn't really talk or hang out until she and James started dating."

"That's right. I forgot. I remember the two of you constantly together."

"Because we bonded over you two idiots. Prior to that, she never came out and said it, but I think she thought I was daft hanging around you lot most of the time. The other girls were more forgiving, but they had crushes on you all." You give a careless shrug. It was no secret how sought after the boys had been in their schooldays.

"I never quite understood how you became friends with us," Remus says.

"It was easy with you. You were so nice, calm, dependable, and not obnoxious. Peter…" you pause, choosing words carefully, not wanting present feelings to influence memories. "He was quiet and lonely. Pretty much agreeable. Again, easy. James and Sirius? I was determined to never speak to either after that boat ride our first night."

"We saved your life that night!" Sirius interjects.

"You two were the reason it needed saving! Standing up in a fucking boat because you two saw whatever in the lake. James knocking me overboard in the process."

"It was a giant squid and we rescued you."

You roll your eyes. "I was drenched, freezing and completely mortified. And as apologetic as James was, he kept calling me the wrong name." You all laugh. 

"It wasn't until second year that I thought they might be okay. We had already become friends," you say looking at Remus. "I missed about a week of classes due to acute bronchitis. You spent time with me afterwards, helping me catch up. When you missed later that month, I was ready to return the favor."

Remus nods, remembering the time fondly. "You were an excellent note taker. Much better than the other three."

"Did you even take notes?" You ask with a playful glance to Sirius.

"In second year? Probably not." He grins ever so cheekily. You shake your head, but are smiling.

"So we became friends and you befriended James and Sirius by default?" Remus muses.

Sirius feigns hurt. "Are you implying we were some sort of consolation prize?"

"Actually," you interject, "They saved me once again. A group of four older boys were harassing me, just dumb taunts and knocking my books out from my hands. They came right over, not caring about being outnumbered. Got the gits to leave me alone. James finally learned my name and I realized Potter and Black weren't so awful after all."

"Those guys were jerks. It didn't sit well with us to see anyone bullied like that."

"Unless of course it was Snape," you counter.

"That was different," Sirius's free hand clenches into a fist as he takes a hard drink.

Remus is quick to change the subject. "Do you still have that remembrall?"

"The one we enchanted to go red only for James? Mhm! It's at my flat in the city."

"Do you mean our flat?" Sirius asks.

Your smile falters. "No. Sirius. I got a different place. After…everything. It was too hard."

A deafening silence falls. Each of you taking long sips from your glasses.

"Oh!" You jump up suddenly, which given your somewhat inebriated state is not the brightest idea. You stumble slightly, but Sirius steadies you, grabbing you by your hips. His fingers linger and your eyes meet. You lose yourself; for a moment you're sixteen again and his touch is more intoxicating than the alcohol. His gaze tells you he feels the same.

Remus clears his throat loudly before taking a drink from his glass.

"Thanks," you mumble, setting your glass on the table.

Sirius releases you from his grasp, though you still feel the ghost of his touch. "'Tis no trouble, darling." You sense his eyes on you as you disappear from the room, heading upstairs. Your head is buzzing, but you blame that on the alcohol…

You return downstairs to the living room, the fetched item tucked securely out of sight under your arm, and find the boys, men talking with easy smiles. It makes you so happy to witness and spend this time together. Your presence has their full attention.

"Follow me, please." You fill your glass with more firewhisky. Sirius mimics the gesture and offers Remus a refill, but he just shakes his head no and silently indicates to the liquid still in his glass. You grab your wand and lead your little group outside to the backyard. The sun sits low in the west, the sky becoming more plum and black than pink and gold. Buckbeak sits on the ground near your shed, one wing tucked over its head.

You hand Sirius your wand and then produce his prisoner robes. He laughs and even Remus looks as if he approves. Sirius waves your wand and the dingy, tattered garment is set ablaze. 

After a while, you all make your way back inside. You prepare a light dinner and the eating and drinking continue with more laughs and shared memories. Hours pass. The contents of the bottle nearly drained signal the night coming to an end.

"I'm one drink away from dancing on tabletops and singing, or, screeching some A-ha, or something equally as embarrassing." you laugh. "I'm going to bed. Remus, I offered Sirius your room, but you're welcome to the couch. There are blankets and pillows in the hall closet." 

"Thank you, y/n. But I should be going."

"What? No. Stay. I insist. I need to see your bemused face sipping tea when I come downstairs with a bloody hangover and you're just fine."

Remus grins. "I hate depriving you both of such a moment, but I have an appointment tomorrow morning. I've already rented a room." You frown but don't press the issue any more. "Though if you don't mind, I thought I'd travel by floo."

"Of course. Help yourself. Powder is on the mantle." You hug him close and kiss his cheek. You excuse yourself, giving the other two time to say goodbye.

As you head for the bathroom, you pause hearing their low voices.

"I'm so sorry, old friend, for believing you... betrayed them. I should have known better. I-"

"There's nothing to forgive. I doubted you, too. The war made us all fear the worst.."

Mentally, you chastise yourself for eavesdropping and begin washing your face.

Sirius has made his way upstairs. In passing his room, you say goodnight. You're about to close the door to your bedroom when he calls your name and you turn to see him stepping towards you. Without warning his lips crash down on yours. Your fingers intertwine in his dark curls at the nape of his neck as you let the kiss deepen. His hands grip your waist and he hoists you up off your feet with little effort just as he did many times all those years ago. Your legs wrap themselves around his waist as he carries you to your bed. He drops you gently and only breaks the kiss to look at you. Still hovering over you, his gray eyes search your face for the answer to an unasked question. You nod in response, but he continues to gaze at you longing to hear you say it.

"I want you."

A slow breath of relief leaves him and his mouth finds its way back to yours. 

The night ends with two former lovers once again completely losing themselves in a perfect moment.

//

There's an unspoken understanding that the night you and Sirius shared together was more than a drunken hookup after a long night of reminiscing. But you don't repeat the night, though you share your bed with him. Nights are hard for him. Sleep doesn't always come easy and he often wakes in the middle of the night screaming, or panicked with sweat pouring off his body. But your presence brings him a comfort he can't otherwise achieve. And so, you spend your night together in your bed. Sleeping.

As days turn into weeks, a comfortable routine has set. Remus visits about once a week. Surprisingly, Sirius has taken to caring for your garden. You go into town as needed and you and Sirius cook dinner together most nights. Buckbeak, now known as Witherwings per a letter from Hagrid that reached Sirius, roams your yard freely, occasionally taking flight in the safety of the countryside night skies, always returning by daybreak. As precautions for the hippogriff and Sirius you casted Protego totalum over the cottage and yards. 

During this time together, Sirius learns how you took over your parents' shop*, how you've taken on a promising young woman who mostly looks after it, leaving you to spend more time here at the cottage, which also belonged to your parents. With tears in your eyes, you told him how they died months apart just over two years ago. He comforted you, remembering them both fondly and told you they'd be proud of you.

The day is still young when you tell him you have to go to the shop to take inventory. Before you leave you call out to him.

"Since it looks like rain, can you please go through some of your things in the attic?"

"Yes, dear," he uses the term mockingly and you playfully glare back at him.

"Try not to burn the place down while I'm gone." With that, you close the door behind you.

It's late afternoon when you return home. Sirius is waiting for you. A midnight blue box in his hand.

"Will you marry me, y/n?"

*a/n: I kept this vague so you can imagine a shop that fits your personality/likes/whatever. I'll only specify this later if needed for storylines. I wanted something where you could be allotted time off easily. Personally I imagine maybe an apothecary? Or maybe an antique shop. What about you?

2: I'm thinking of writing a prequel? More like blurbs, highlighting moments between you and Sirius. But I need to know what you want to read. First engagement? First kiss? When Sirius realizes he's in love? Time at Hogwarts? Post Hogwarts but pre Azkaban?

Taglist <3:  @oingo233 @marimorena06 @medalloway-blog

[5lazarus]

Labyrinth

"Anders made no attempt at escape during the years they were together." This story is meant to explore everything absolutely horrible about that statement. If the core part of Anders' identity is his refusal to submit to imprisonment, then perhaps listening to Karl was a violation of his sense of self. Things get better, and then things get worse. Read on Archive Of Our Own here. Read Ch. 2/3 here. Chapter 1/3: The Circle

Love does not make the Circle more bearable. It does not banish Kinloch Hold’s ghosts. Anders brushes by Karl while stacking books under Uldred’s watching eye; Karl taps his shoulder but keeps moving, and they both smile. Let them think they are only good friends. The threat of separation hangs heavy over them both. Everyone remembers what happened to Lorcan and Bartie. Anders does not want to see that happen to them. They get excused from the First Enchanter’s lecture of Fade mutability to pray in the Chantry. Everyone knows Anders is devout, as fervently as a libertari must be; everyone knows Karl is, too, though perhaps less fervent. They fuck quickly and quietly behind a statue, Anders gripping him hard, and when they finish, Anders says, “I kind-of get off on it. Fucking under Andraste’s eye.”

Karl sighs, adjusting his robes. He murmurs into his neck, “I’d rather a bed. One day, my leg will cramp, or you’ll get overeager with that lightning, and--” “And you’ll drop me or I’ll electrocute you, yes.” Anders kisses his forehead, holding him close. If a templar ambles by, Karl will pretend to cry over his dead mother. Every mage has a dead mother, it’s an easy way to get the templars off your back. He giggles. “Imagine getting to surrender .” Karl says, “I can.” The robes are handy for a quick fuck, but Anders wants more than that. He wonders if the Knight-Commander has tacitly set aside the chapel for fucking, because a tower of mages keyed up on sexual aggression is worse than a tower of mages seeking quick and fast release. It’s such a waste of Karl’s body, which deserves to be teased and tasted and explored. Back in the library, interminably shelving books, Anders says aloud, “Imagine getting to see your lover naked.” Leorah says, “There are always the storerooms. If you don’t mind the spiders.” “Ugh,” Anders says. “I don’t even like being watched.” And that is another invitation for a quick exploration. Fucking is an act of rebellion. Love is something worse. These quick fucks in the Chantry, fingering and fellating in the library--it gets tiring, after awhile. They all deserve more. One midday break in the storeroom, finally nude, Karl says, “Don’t you dare leave me. Don’t you dare leave me here.” “You can leave with me.” Anders is still straddling him. The stone walls are chilly, and he’s beginning to get cold. Uncomfortable, he shifts, and starts reaching for his clothes. Karl leans his head back and sighs. “Where would you even go?” Anders laughs, slipping back into his robes. “Does that matter? Away from here. Anywhere. Maybe even Tevinter. Everyone likes a healer.” Aghast, Karl says, “By Andraste, Tevinter? Don’t even say it. Don’t even think it. They won’t even take you to Aeonar, they’ll just kill you. Or make you Tranquil.” “Probably make me Tranquil,” Anders jokes. It’s a little silly to be scolded by a naked man, prostate on a cold cobble floor, with his cock shrinking. “I’m cute, they’ll still make use of me.” “Don’t joke about that!” Karl snaps, and the torches about them flare in his anger. Quickly he pulls on his robes, refusing to look at him. “I don’t want to talk about this. Don’t even think it in my direction. You know what they did to Bartie. I can’t bear for that to happen to you.” Anders sours, mouth twisting. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be able to bear what staying here--being locked up here --does. Don’t you remember being outside? I know you weren’t born in the Circle.” “That was a long time ago,” Karl says. “And the Anderfels were no kinder to me than they were to you.” “The steppes,” Anders pushes. “The stars on a clear night, shining on the gray earth. Tilling the soil back to get at the red clay. The clatter of a wooden shuttle.” Karl says, “Your father screaming when you set the thatch roof on fire. Your mother sobbing in relief when the templars took you away. And the first time you could sit at a table and gorge yourself. Eating until you were full, and then a plate of strawberries and cream after that.” Anders says, “The templars locked me in a closet for biting. I never got that meal.” He walked out of the storeroom, leaving Karl behind. In the dormitory that night Anders quietly masturbates, thinking about fucking outside, the rough feel of grass under his skin, digging his nails into the dirt, crickets chirping and only the stars there to witness them. In the bed opposite over Karl rolls over on his side, back to him, and Anders exhales, suddenly unwilling to continue. He wants to call him over, he wants to slip next to him and press against him, tease a hot breath against his neck, kiss the tenseness away. But he cannot. A templar pauses in the doorway, and Anders takes his hands out from under the covers and raises them pointedly. The templar rolls their eyes and continues on. Karl whispers, “Must you provoke them?” Ander says, “Wouldn’t you

like to spend a whole night with me? Wouldn’t that be nice?” The templar backs up into the doorway and crosses their arms. Anders amends his statement: “Platonically, of course. I’m very warm. Wonderful to cuddle with.” The templar says, “Is he bothering you, Thekla?” Karl quickly says, “No, not at all. Ser.” Uldred tells him the next day that the First Enchanter has decided to crack down on the libertari faction in Kinloch Hold. He has a gleam in his eye as he talks about Irving’s plans for yet another witch hunt for blood mages, and Anders is irritated as Uldred yet again tries to talk him into using blood magic to get the templars to look away. He figures he has a few choices. He can volunteer for the war effort and join the King as a healer, and eventually get his pick of Circles to return to. He can talk loudly in the mess hall about the necessity of doing one’s best to serve the Maker, because magic was made to serve man, not to rule over him, and keep his head down for a couple years before developing a personality again. Or he can accept that they are transferring him to a harsher Circle. They have all heard stories about Kirkwall, and how the White Spire farms mages out to the petty nobility. Anders chooses none of them. He follows the mages to King Cailan’s camp and slips away. In the chaos of the Blight, he manages to disappear. Karl does not come with him. He does not even bother to ask.

[mattzerella-sticks]

metamorphosis

Chapter 3 (ao3)

Prologue (ao3) (tumblr)

What if, when Jack was born, he stayed a baby?

A retelling of season 13, with a few key differences.

No planned schedule, will update when I finish chapters lol

               Chapter 3 - the Sacrament of Confession

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned…”

           Mia sat at her kitchen island, rivulets of wine drip and form legs like tiny, burgundy tear tracks each time she swirled her drink. Hours passed since Buddy died, since the hunters and their magical baby left with the shadow that hung over her life for the past few years, rolled up in her antique rug, and she didn’t feel like doing anything else but this. It was funny, though. With Buddy gone, Mia was free to do anything, go anywhere, and all she did with her newfound freedom was climb the few feet from her lobby to her private floor. She camped in her kitchen for hours, drinking; the empty, nearby bottle of wine was full when Mia first retrieved it, an older vintage the cashier advised her to pop open during celebrations.

           She guessed this counted.

           Finishing her drink, Mia pushed both empty glass and bottle to the side. She laid her hands flat against the dark, marble counter and pushed, steadying herself as she stood. The room hardly spun. It wasn’t that strong a wine, especially given her inherited tolerance. Mia chose not to waste another.

           Rather, she felt like taking a lengthy soak in her bathtub. With fancy bubbles and salts mixed in the water, and scented candles perched upon pure porcelain and wooden shelves and whatever space she could find.

           She needed a relaxing bath. She needed to relax. Buddy dying meant she finally could relax.

           Why is it so difficult for Mia, then?

           On her way towards her bathroom, the intercom buzz annoyingly sprang to life.

           Mia jumped, hitting the wall at her back and rocking the few picture frames hanging there. Her chest expanded with frantic breath, mind immediately conjuring an image of Buddy, angry, leaning his whole weight on the buzzer. Soon, she calmed, reminded how that was impossible, now and forever.

           She approached the intercom with more confidence, slapping the receiver in response, cutting off another round of buzzing. “Yes?”

           “Hey, Doc,” a familiar voice drawled, low and raspy, “can I come in?”

           Dean Winchester lapsed into a weighty silence after. He said nothing else that might clue Mia in on why he stood on her porch for the second time this evening. And as Mia learned early on, there’s a lot that can hide beneath such silence.

           A troublesome thought surfaced from the depths of fear simmering in the back of her mind, cloaked in the voice of her mother, sounding like advice she passed onto Mia from her mother who learned from her mother’s mother and so on in a long line of ancestors. “Hunters only come by for one thing,” they warned, “the best thing you can do is run.”

           What if Dean, despite killing Buddy, wasn’t satisfied? What if he returned for her, to make good on his earlier threats? If she let him inside, will he prove her mother and mother’s mother and so on true? Fire a bullet between her eyes in the half a second it took to open the door? Or, if she refused, would he barrel inside regardless and steal this newly returned peace from her?

           Would he stand outside all night, if Mia stayed quiet like she was, and think she abandoned her practice and skipped town halfway through his question?

           Already she drew out her answer too long, and either she spoke in the next few seconds or fled to her bedroom where she’d stay awake until morning, hoping he left. The latter didn’t appeal to Mia. She promised herself that she finished running. That it wasn’t what Mia wanted to do, not anymore. Mia cleared her throat and pressed her finger on the button again. “Sure. I’ll be down in a moment.”

           Mia detoured, grabbing a steak knife from a drawer and hiding it within the folds of her skirt. The knife wouldn’t overpower a gun, if it came to that, but Mia might take him with her.

           Hopefully Mia’s fears stayed exactly that.

           Mia opened the front door slightly, peeking onto the porch through a sliver. Dean stood, his shoulders stooped from exhaustion and a haggard expression across his face that exaggerated every wrinkle on his pretty face. Quickly scanning him, she saw no sign of a weapon. She couldn’t decide if it were better or worse. Mia unfastened the final lock, fully welcoming Dean back into her home. “Dean,” she started, “what can I help you with?” Her grip tightened on the knife, sharp line of its blade shifting against her skirt’s fabric.

           He shuffled towards her, Mia flinching as he did. The knife perked at her side. “Sorry,” he said, both hands rising to greet her. His open, empty palms soothed her somewhat, and weakened her hold on the knife, it wilting into her skirt. “I didn’t come here for a fight.”

           “Then why are you here?”

           “I…” A shudder ran through him like a summer storm, righting his posture instantly. He glanced behind him, into the waiting shadows, as if a ghost might step out of that inky blackness. “Can we talk inside?”

           She owed him nothing. Still, Mia swore an oath when she accepted her diploma. As she noted during his first visit, this was a man who needed help.

           Who would she be if she turned him away, hunter or not?

           “Follow me,” she instructed, turning on her heel without waiting for his answer. His clacking heels let Mia know he trailed after her, from the entryway and up the stairs until she was in her kitchen again. Mia set her knife down on the island, facing Dean as she did. He snorted, raising a brow at the weapon. “What?” she huffed, “a girl can be cautious, can’t she?”

           “You’d be stupid not to be.”

           She rolled her eyes, “Yet here we are.”

           Mia waited for Dean to respond. Instead of snagging the obvious bait, he hunkered down on one of her brass stools, shoulders hunched and fists mangling each other in a facsimile of prayer. She busied herself, setting the empty bottle nearer the sink while she washed clean her glass. Then, Mia asked Dean if he wanted anything. His non-answer meant she needlessly flipped cabinets open and shut, trying to fill a void with something other than words. Mia hadn’t much she wanted to say to Dean.

           But about when Mia checked her refrigerator a third time, her mouth spat loose a question that dripped like drool past her lips and splattered everywhere by the time she realized she asked. “What you do with Buddy?”

           Dean awoke, his eyes darting away from the swirling, enchanting pattern of her countertop. “Do you really care?”

           A deflated no sat on her tongue, unwilling to rise from a lack of something Mia cared too little to analyze at the moment. It wouldn’t do Mia any good doing so, either. She sensed an answer that, in her current state, she might not like. Mia also recognized what Dean tried doing. Therapists smelled avoidance like vamps did blood. She glossed over his question with attempted ease, shrugging, breaking their locked gaze. “Call it being sentimental,” she said, “or curious. Whatever you feel like.”

           Dean kept his judgment close to his chest but offered up what she asked for. “I dropped Sam off at the motel with… with the kid, then I took your ex past city limits. Dug a shallow grave, struck a match – that paint enough of a picture?” She nodded. “Thought so. Sorry ‘bout your rug, by the way. It was nice.”

           “It was Home Goods. I’ll find another just like it.”

           “Of course…”

           Mia stood across from him, separated by the island. Her fingers lightly brushed the knife’s handle. “And you decided the next best place to come was back to the scene of the crime?”

           “I stopped for gas in between,” he told her, “Bummed around at the Gas’n’Sip, bought some gum… not like I was dying to bother you again, or whatever.”

           “But you’re here,” she pestered him, a sly smile crawling across her face as she noticed him squirming, like a worm wriggling for traction in mud. “Why?” Dean remained tight lipped. Mia pushed further. “Therapy didn’t seem like your thing earlier.”

           “Therapy’s for people who have time to whine about their problems.”

           “I think you’re afforded a little time,” Mia said, “especially after losing your mother.”

           Dean grinned, his features stretching like saran wrap to barely conceal his frustration. “Can’t believe you bought all that crap, doc,” he laughed, “Sam and I were stringing you along. None of what he said was true.”

           “So then she didn’t die a few days ago?” she asked, “And this little diversion, this hunt, wasn’t some sort of distraction from that big blowout?” Mia slid the knife towards her, studying her reflection in the blade. “It’s late, Dean. I’m tired. I’m betting you are, too. Sam sure was, only reason I could think of for why he’d spill all that to me while we were alone.”

           She angled the knife Dean’s way, staring at it still. He looked furious in the silver mirror. “Did he mention anything else?”

           Mia returned her gaze, arching her brow. “Was there anything else to mention?”

           This contest ended with Mia the victor, Dean bowing his head in surrender. “…No. I guess there isn’t.”

           A little, natty voice at her ear warned what he said was a lie. She didn’t call him on it, showing some mercy. Mia returned the knife to its drawer, her back facing Dean. “Is there anything you feel like mentioning?” Mia asked him, “About your mom… about what happened… about, hell, why you’re here?”

           Her hand stayed on the knife’s handle as she kept turned away from Dean, her spine rigid and ready to snap at the first scrape of the stool. All she heard was a low exhale of a man with a lax grip on his sanity and some rustling.

           “I was thinking about what you said during our… session,” he mumbled, “about how you practice. How you shift…”

           Mia smiled, closing the drawer with a soft tap. She rounded the island, laying a soothing hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Is there something you want to say, that you didn’t get to?”

           Dean nodded. He pulled his hand out his pocket – she hadn’t noticed it disappeared – and revealed a photograph. It was old. It was bent every which way. It was given to her with trembling hands. “If you don’t mind?”

           She studied the profile, committing details to memory as the beginning pinpricks of the shift startled like morning waves lapping at her feet.

           “Give me a few,” she told Dean, “I won’t be long.”

           Mia retreated for her downstairs bathroom. That room was more accustomed to handling the ooze produced from her shedding. Plus, a bubble bath wasn’t out of tonight’s equation entirely. If she used the one upstairs, that wouldn’t be the case.

           She slipped the photograph between the cabinet mirror and its frame, thumb tracing the profile captured there. Her body roiled with change. Her cracking bones echoed within this small space, bouncing off tiles as she changed to better fit what she saw. In the process, Mia stripped free of her clothes. Then, she peeled away her dark skin for something lighter and, by her guess, calloused.

           Tiny hands doubled in size and calloused. Her jaw became squarer, stubble shadow obvious once her eyes adjusted to their new color. Mia’s hair sat flatter atop her head, lifeless.

           When she dropped the last piece of dead skin into the tub, and her body fell silent as the hum inside quieted, Mia examined her appearance in the mirror. She compared what she saw with the picture. “Not bad…” she coughed, voice and octave deeper, and with a similar twang she heard Dean and Sam speak with earlier. Mia approximated this detail, like she had the height.

           He looked tall, in the photo.

           Mia left the bathroom, diverging briefly for the armoire in her office. She kept a few outfits inside, at least one article of clothing for each size. Her eyes caught a simple, grey button-down and a pair of jeans, not caring to put on much else.

           It’s not like she’ll wear them long.

           Dressed, she shuffled back towards Dean. He moved from the kitchen since Mia left, sitting on one of her sofas in the living room. Dean didn’t flinch when she stepped on a loose floorboard, though its creaking startled her enough to make a tiny gasp. Dean’s focus lingered on his lap, held there with grit and determination if his trembling shoulders were any indication.

           Mia approached him with care. “Dean,” she started, voice gruff but also soft, “I’m right behind you.” She laid her hand on his shoulder, overtly aware how he tensed from his words and then again, somehow worse, once she touched him.

           Dean’s head whipped around so fast she felt the breeze against her now-hairy forearms. “Wow,” he chuckled, a grim sound that didn’t rest easy, “you really look like him.” Mia moved to sit beside Dean, her hands off and in her lap. “So,” he continued, “do I call you Mia, or…”

           “It’s best you speak to me as if I were the man in the photo.”

           Nodding, Dean slid away from Mia, widening the distance between them. He tried meeting her gaze. She noted how his eyes stayed fixed on a point behind her. “Okay,” he said, “uh… this is… this is so weird…” It’s not an unusual reaction to this method. Mia was well accustomed to this routine, waiting, watching him cycle through his discomfort still and silent as an ice sculpture. Every patient, no matter their differing problems, responded the same. “Hey… hi,” Dean squeaked out, deflating, “dad.”

           Mia’s lips thinned in response, the only cue she gave for Dean to keep talking.

           Dean cleared his throat. “It’s… it’s been a while, I guess. That is – that we’re here like this. I know it’s not – you’re not… if you were you, it’d sure be a shock. What am I? Nearing forty… neither of us probably predicted that happening, did we…” He sighed, rubbing away some glistening wetness crowding his eyes. “Fuck, I don’t – I don’t know what I’m doing. Dad… Mia… I don’t – I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing here?”

           He begged for an answer with pouted lips and hollow cheeks. Mia, resilient, ignored his pleas. She dipped her chin and raised her brow in practiced ease.

           The combination provoked something terrifying from Dean. A wildfire tore across his face, razing the sadness and confusion. Those softer emotions flew on windswept smoke while the only thing left to see was an ugly fury.

           “You want me to yell?” he asked, voice climbing higher, more frantic, “Is that it? Yell at you? Scream and rant and rave at you until I’m hoarse – because I can do that! I want to… I… I’ve wanted to, for so long.” He leaned closer to Mia, snarling, scaring her. She kept playing statue, not to comfort wounded prey but to protect herself from a rabid predator. “Swallowed so much shit, since good little soldiers didn’t talk back to their drill sergeants. Because that’s what you were. You weren’t a dad, I was. Hell, I was mom, too. I had to be both of these things while you spent every day playing hunter, chasing down the demon that killed mom. To what end? Revenge, for mom? The last thing she wanted was for any of us to get involved in this life, becoming hunters like she was… not like you’d know, since she kept that from you.” He sunk into the sofa, chest heaving, ripping breaths out of the air with deadly intent. Dean spoke, again, in a much calmer tone. His words were sharp and precise, aimed to kill. “You didn’t know who she was. You didn’t know Sam… and you sure as hell didn’t know me. All you ever were concerned about was yourself. You lied to everyone, pretending what you did was for something much more noble than it was. Justified being a shitty dad with excuses, like how hunters can’t be good parents or have childhoods, or that, when mom died, a part of you died, too…”

           Dean paused for far longer than a beat, giving Mia a moment to digest what he said. Recovering from her stupor, she reached across the divide and laid a hand on Dean’s knee. “Dean…”

           He jumped. “I get it,” Dean whispered, “I really do, how you must have felt after mom died. When Cas… I didn’t know I could get more broken than I already was. Seeing him there shattered what little of me there was left. And what sucks is that I can feel myself… feel myself turning into you, but also being aware of who I used to be. It’s like I’m going crazy…” Dean shook with the force of an earthquake, except nothing else in the room moved an inch. “I want to blame someone for making me like this. I want it to be you, I want this to be your fault so bad because it feels like it should… because you didn’t step up when mom was taken from us. You didn’t try to be the adult and forced that job onto a kid who wasn’t ready. You made me become a nurturer, then into a killer – now I’ve got a kid and every few seconds I’m flipping between comforting him or destroying him.” Dean sucked in a deep breath, eyes flooded and red-rimmed. “I hate Jack and I hate that I hate him, but I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to fix it. And I can’t stop thinking about you, because you sure didn’t ask for Yellow Eyes to kill mom. She made that deal… same way Cas did what he did, to protect those they loved. We were the suckers who got stuck picking up the pieces, is all.”

           Dean’s trauma reminded Mia of her first shift, of skin strips peeled slowly one by one, left in a pile of blood and pus. She wiped her own teary gaze, clearing her throat. “Dean –“

           “I don’t,” he talked over her, “I don’t need to hear that you’re sorry. I understand you… but I doubt I’ll ever forgive you. I just… I want to stop feeling like this, so… so full of anger and hate and venom… but empty, at the same time.” Dean sagged, shoulders drooping as he shunted the heavy baggage he carried for, what Mia guessed, decades. “This was stupid,” he said, “I shouldn’t have come here –“

           “Dean,” Mia started, rising, “Wait –“

           “Thanks for trying anyhow, doc,” he mumbled, scurrying towards the stairs, “I’ll see myself out.”

           She stood there, letting Dean run from her home. He clambered down the steps, and when he slammed the door open Mia heard the hinges scream as they rocked from the force.

           Mia sighed. Those hinges called for her. They warned that someone might take advantage of her open front door to come do harm.

           Except no one could hurt her tonight. Nor would they any other night.

           She stripped off the borrowed clothes she wore, marching to her bathroom naked. Mia twisted the knobs beside her faucet, hot water cascading from the spout and filling her tub. Then, she opened her mirrored cabinet for supplies: perfumes, bubble baths, a box of matches and a green cylinder of pre-rolled joints. As she closed the cabinet, her stare lingered on the features of the face she borrowed. Mia traced the edges of Dean’s father’s face, frown deepening with each passing second. “You must have been a real rat bastard when you were alive,” she said.

           Mia struck a match, lighting a joint and all of the candles littered about her bathroom. She dumped a capful of bubble bath into the half-filled tub and added a few drops of perfume. Once the tub reached the inner rim, it looked like a field of bubble-shaped flowers that smelled of lavender with a waterfall she slowly eased to a trickle and then a drought.

           It was the perfect environment for relaxation. Unfortunately, that was the furthest thought from her mind.

           Mia, however, accepted that.

           She slipped into the tub, taking a drag from her joint and huffing smoke past her lips. It clouded the past events, of Buddy’s attack and his death, of Dean Winchester’s breakdown, but didn’t fully remove them. Tonight carved itself a firm place within her mind as a turning point in her life.

           And though her heart ached for Dean, wishing him luck in finding his own version of peace, Mia learned from their session.

           Freedom came slowly, bit by bit, one piece of skin at a time.

           Mia wasn’t sure who she’ll be on the other side of this transformation. She smiled, content with who she was now and reveling in the uncomfortableness of freedom.

[qiankunfics]

KunTen Masterlist Part 1

AO3 

1.  Body Talk by smallchittaphon

Summary:  He had feared the statement more when the days to His and Kun’s one year mark approached but he shouldn't have. It was childish too, not every relationship is the same he realizes. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

2.  cut through the clouds by heartsighed

Summary: Qian Kun, microbiology major, vice-president of the ISA, part-time poster model and full-time mom friend, is perhaps more stressed than he would like everyone to think. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

3.  something new by creamsoda (bobahoney)

Summary: Ten finally asks Kun to fuck his thighs. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

4.  the aesthetics of beauty by hoeunki

Summary: when Kun’s required to create something that defines art, he decides to draw a stranger that he finds sleeping on the campus grounds. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

5.  kiss me under the light of a thousand stars by gabilliam (vvhymack)

Summary: Ten calls the wrong number, Kun comes to the rescue. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

6.  The Customer is Always Right by 021497J

Summary: Ten honestly isn't a picky eater, the chicken was dry. His complaints earn him a visit from the very cute head chef. He can't help it if he wants to see him once more, all he has to do is complain...right? Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

7.  red, orange, yellow, green, even thicker by eatthatup

Summary: Kun isn’t used to being praised. Physically, at least. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot

8.  incandescently (for him.) by gabilliam (vvhymack)

Summary: They were no longer the likely protagonists for the typical romance and it saddened Ten. (Historical AU) Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot Trigger: Slight homophobia mentioned

9.  we’ll be alright by syugafairy

Summary: kun never thought of himself as an anxious person Rating: General Status: One-Shot

10. light me up

Summary:  Ten spends most of his life dreaming of being a superhero, and by luck, his wish is granted. Chaos ensues. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

11. the store by _helios (the_heliades)

Summary:  His cat, quiet and proud, will watch with piercing eyes, as they wander out of The Store and into the world again. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

12.  Rain. by softyjseo

Summary: Ten is in love. Kun isn't, apparently. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

13. sweeter than cake by eatthatup for adarkalleyway

Summary: Ten, pouting just slightly, makes Kun melt instantly. Like heating sugar, near its burning point. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

14. kiss me if you like me (slap me if I'm wrong) by mikararinna

Summary: Ten was starting to feel bored of life. He needed a challenge, something to excite himself. Kun had an idea. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

15.  Magnets by orphan_account

Summary: Kun and Ten are roommates. Rating: General Status: One-Shot Trigger: slight harassment 

16.  sibilance by andnowforyaya

Summary: Doctor Qian Kun chases the stories he hears on the rivers to their origins, and he meets a beautiful boy underneath a waterfall. Rating: Teen Status: On-going

17.  get you good by gift

Summary: “Please, don’t make me beg,” Kun whines.“I like when you beg,” Ten tells him bluntly. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

18.  sweet, sweet love by RedamancyEffect

Summary: Kun is the sweetest omega ever, Ten is head-over-heels for him. Too bad, Kun is a little dense. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

19.  stupid spinach dip

Summary: Yukhei and Mark visit Professor Kun and they find out he’s married to news anchor Ten. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

20.  sunchoke by flyway

Summary: Kun, Ten, and summer at the Sunchoke magazine test kitchen. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

21.  Handle Perfection

Summary: Ten was going to need Kun to stop this kind of behaviour, his heart couldn’t handle this type of perfection. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

22.  you are my favorite everything

Summary: Ten and Kun meet during the perfect summer. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

23.  no matter how long i wait by dreamlaunch (mayuaka)

Summary: in his search for a dream blocking enchantment, ten finds kun. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

24.  the truth hurts (and secrets kill) by thereisnoreality

Summary: Ten kills while Kun is at work. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot *Part of murdery martrimony collection 

25.  Open Windows by Mntsnflrs

Summary: Ten constantly locks himself out of his apartment, Kun saves the day and him.  Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot 

26.  green, pink, blue, yellow by rowenabane

Summary: Imagine: a town with manicured lawns, cotton candy sunrises, houses that all look the same. Imagine: a neighbor with a beautiful smile, a terrible secret, a hidden past. Rating: Mature Status: One-Shot Trigger: Slight alcohol abuse

27.  dreaming (are you thinking what i'm thinking?) by okamiwind

Summary: They could not be more different, the pair of them. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

28.  click, snapshot by kwonjis

Summary:  photographer!kunten fic Rating: General Status: One-Shot

29.  Office Hours by violetpeche

Summary: Kun’s chest starts to ache again as he watches the soft, pink tip of Ten’s tongue slip across his lower lip before biting it. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

30.  open invitation by andnowforyaya

Summary: Ten’s asleep, and his pink, soft lips are parted, that mouth that gave Kun so much trouble earlier today. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

31.  What's Life Without a Little Worry?

Summary:  Kun was a notorious worrier. He worried about his grades, about his friends and whether they were eating enough, sleeping enough. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

32.  To All The Boys I Ghosted Before by cobalamincosel

Summary:  The Tinder AU where Ten ghosts Kun in date night— and months later finds out that Kun is his new neighbor. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

33.  Miles Above by violetpeche

Summary: Ten looks up at Kun and lets out a deep sigh. “No.” He leans over to tap on the faucet to rinse out the sink for Kun. “I came in here to suck your dick.” Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

34.  getting closer by flowerhairclips

Summary: Kun is in for a long ass ride when a demon he exorcised ends up falling in love with him. Rating: Explicit Status: Completed

35.  a labour of love by eggboyksoo

Summary: renjun is an artistic genius with a tendency to keep things from his family. his parents struggle to support his interests while pretending they don't know about said interests. Rating: General Status: One-Shot *Part of chaos, family, love collection

36.  Hunger of the Pine by cobalamincosel

Summary: Kun and Ten are ex-college friends-with-benefits who end up becoming so much more when they bump into each other again at the airport after a few years for the wedding of their respective college roommates and best friends, Johnny and Taeyong. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

37.  We’ll Get Lost Together (Let Me Flow) by easycomeeasygo

Summary: When Ten really gets to look at Kun, his brain short circuits. He’s hot. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

38.  if you believe in magic, come along with me by mainvocal

Summary: Deep down, Kun knows Ten didn't ask to join Card Magic Club because he'd suddenly become enamored with the art of card tricks. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

39.  Antedate by Lertsek

Summary: There are some nights where Kun wakes up and can't hear Ten breathe. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

40.  Permeating and Perfect by Kkaepsongiya

Summary: He can’t stop making noise, not as Kun fucks him so well, the older boy holding his hips tight, pulling him back to meet his thrusts. He knows his hips will be bruised for days after this—he can’t wait to see the marks, to press into them when he’s all alone. Rating: Explicit  Status: One-Shot

41. Open Doors by Mntsnflrs

Summary: He decides he likes the way Kun says his name.He decides he wants to hear it more. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot 

42.  let's stay together by madhoney

Summary: Kun smirked and squeezed around his boyfriend’s waist. He could really get used to a lifetime of his sass. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

43.  Someday by almostkun

Summary:  Kun laughs at him, caressing his cheek with his thumb. They stay in silence for a while, as Mr. Baudelaire chases Mrs. Austen with the help of Yoshihiro-san. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

44.  i come apart at the seams (so you can stitch me back together again) by okamiwind

Summary: Ten is the shot, and Kun is his chaser. Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

45.  space rocks by gaysadandtired

Summary: no celestial being could compare to Ten and his blinding smile. Rating: General Status: One-Shot

46.  old times by madhoney

Summary: Since his husband was just set on being ornery tonight, Kun decided to just take the L and try again tomorrow. Rating: Explicit Status: One-shot

47.  oh, let's start some rumour by mikararinna

Summary: Rumour has it supermodel Ten has a crush on famous actor Qian Kun. Ten called bullshit. He didn't have a crush on Kun. Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

48.  you're insatiable by 10softbot

Summary: kun takes ten to a cabin in the woods so they can finally fuck Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

49.  Reset by violetpeche

Summary: This particular Thursday morning spiraled into Hell on Earth.  Rating: Explicit Status: One-Shot

50.  Intersequence by pinkwinwin

Summary: a love story in photographs Rating: Teen Status: One-Shot

[clareisa]

Seventeen/Hip-Hop Unit as DEMIGODS

- im slowly getting back to writing, hope it's decent comeback

♠ - greek demigods AU

♠ -  English is not my first language, so please, excuse my mistakes

♠ - hip-hop unit / performance unit / vocal unit 

Seungcheol:

son of Apollo, God of Music, poetry, archery, medicine and sun

the most humble out of his siblings although being one of the most talented ones

likes to relax in gentle sun rays while the sun is rising or setting, making the light bend under his fingers how he wants them to

his serious appearance earned him respect but when you get to know him he is the softest and nicest being you could find

likes to be around other campers in half blood camp but love to be alone as well from time to time

when he is frustrated or mad you can find him at training space with all of the archery targets suffocating with arrows

likes to wake up the whole camp with his gentle and beautiful harp playing

as a son of the god of music, his voice is angel-like but is too shy and doesn’t sing in front of others often

everyone, even his siblings are begging him to sing when they are having camp dinner around a fire ... it takes longer to convince him but it is more than worth it 

with Zeus’s son, Vernon, they are the main controllers of the weather around

one of the only ones against which aphrodite’s children charms can’t do anything

which they are pretty huffy about since they think children of Apollo are a perfect match for them

friends with everyone that is genuine and fair like him

one of the main healers in the camp

trying to help and heal mental illnesses or problems of others because he knows from experience that without a healthy mind your body is useless and life is sad

he came to the camp in his late teens and it didn’t take a long time for Apollo to claim him as his son 

because every time Seungcheol was happy sun shined and when he was sad it hid behind the clouds 

children of Demeter loves him to be around so their gardens are full of light

a lot of campers have a massive crush on him because he’s very manly and has good leadership but he always refuses it when his friends, mainly Wonwoo and Vernon, are telling this to him

he has strong powers and will but a fragile and sensitive soul full of colours to discover

Wonwoo:

son of Hecate, Goddess of magic, crossroads and ghosts

the quiet kid that is walking around the camp with a book in his hands most of the time, having that mysterious irresistible vibe around him

giving people shivers when he is around, but it is not uncomfortable, its actually pleasant and kind of magical

first, appear to be cold and unwelcoming but those few that are close to him discovered his heart-warming personality 

best demigod to ask for advice since he can sense which of your paths going from the crossroad is the best for you... kind of 7th sense of his

loves to loosen up and just stare at the sky throught out starry nights

often talks ghosts of people wandering around the camp not being able to find the way to the other side

helping them to find what is still chaining them down to this world and cooperating with them to find a way to the other side for them

at first, campers though he is talking to himself, but after some time they got used to Wonwoo talks with ghosts that no one other than few children of Hecate could see

sometimes scaring others when he is taking care of or being friends with magical creatures that even demigods are not so sure about 

he often gets visions of near future 

it’s convenient to have him around so he can warn you and you or he can change it for better

he is always going to the forests around to find those curious and adventurous children of Hermes, mainly Dino

helping them find the right way on the crossroad to safely come back home

quite shy and not very social demigod and it’s very rare to get close to him, but those who do get close to him are considered very lucky

came to the camp by himself as he started noticing the traits of demigods he read so much in his books

claimed by Hecate as her son as soon as he came and finally spoke to a ghost for the first time even tho he was seeing them before

giving his friends crystals enchanted by him that is protecting, for example, their health, their relationships or powers and many more

seem calm and not harmful but try to hurt his friends or any innocent magical creature and you’ll regret getting to know his dark side

Mingyu:

son of Poseidon, God of oceans, seas and rivers

one of the most popular demigods in the camp, he is aware of it and actually enjoys it sometimes too much

loves to compete and fight in the arena with other demigods, it’s almost like a leisure activity for him because he is obviously very talented

he loves to fight mainly the children of Ares, Nike and Athena to prove them that he is a better warrior than them and with children of Zeus to challenge another demigod from “big 3″

very social demigod, one of the Poseidon children that has more “wild waters” in them 

can’t be absent in any of parties that are specialities of Dionysus cabin and his children 

“work hard, play hard”, that is his life motto

he is a hard worker and trains his powers very intensely and regularly every day, never complaining about a thing

sometimes he is actually fascinated by his own abilities and watches in awe with big puppy eyes when he can manipulate the water into any shape he wants to 

enjoys the attention of Aphrodite’s children and how they are complimenting him just to get close to him and his stunning appearance 

but actually has soft spot for children of Hephaestus, whos fire was the complete opposite of him and their hard-working nature

they were harder workers than him and even harder to impress which motivated him to be even better and be acknowledged by them once

friends with everyone... at least he think so since he talks with every single soul in the camp

really active and trying to help everyone with everything. even when he doesn’t have any experience and sometimes things end up with a catastrophe

like to relax by swimming alone far, far away from everything or taking walks around the bottom of a big lake since he is able to breathe underwater

came to the camp at a very young age 

he was already but still shortly claimed by his father when his extreme powers and talents started showing up early

not really favoured by children of Hypnos thanks to his loud existence and their love for sleep, which is impossible with him near

very loyal and ready to risk his life for a good thing or his loved ones

loves to flirt with basically anyone but he is secretly waiting for “the one” he will fall for at first sight

Vernon:

son of Zeus, God of the sky, weather and thunder

not shy but not really bold... just chilling and living his best life

really popular among demigods and in camp in general thanks to being the son of the king of the gods but doesn't really care

creating peace between campers it’s his part-time job at this point, mainly between fierce children of Ares and proud children of Poseidon and sometimes even between his own siblings

every time leaving a good first impression with his manners, humour, handsome face and peaceful aura...everyone wants to be his friend

can’t help and find thunderstorms very calming and relaxing

naturally one of the best fighters in the camp but honestly hates to fight with others in the arena or at training

rather training his lightning powers alone because he is worried he could hurt someone with his destructive powers

one of the only Zeus children in centuries that has black feathered wings that let him fly and bring storm with flapping them throught out his flights

best friends with demigods considered by most of the campers as “outsiders” like children of Hades, Persephone or Achlys

supportive and fascinated by the powers of his best friends

with Apollo’s son, Seungcheol, they are the main controllers of the weather around

they are both making sure to keep a perfect balance along with four seasons 

natural but not intentional heart drop of the camp, he doesn’t even notice something like others almost drooling over him

he has extremely good manners and charm that is making any girl melt, their godly origin is not playing a role since he captures hearts of all 

came to a camp in his middle teens when his mother started noticing some traits of his godly father

wasn’t claimed for a very long time since he wasn’t really giving out and showing any particular powers

it was a couple of years already and his father claimed him after Vernon out of frustration of being lonely finally discovered his thunder wings

helping his friends as much as he could even if it’s just making rain appear for them to sleep better

he has one of the most precious souls existing and he deserves just the best

[shadowdianne]

Alright, so @delirious-comfort tagged me in something about wips and SHAME. That's what I got. Sure there was something else thrown in there but bottom line: shame! xD She, brilliantly, went for WIPS in the sense of works that have never seen the light and who knows if they ever will -please, I want to know what half of them are about, you evil- Since that's basically impossible on my end of things I'm just gonna go for unfinished stories and call it a day since they are -technically- works in progress

Painted Voices -SQ- Oh boy, 2015. I don't even remember what I wanted to do with this one. It was at the time there were a bunch of stories with either one of them being blind or deaf and I tried to jump into that. I'm ashamed of it and certainly will delete this because I'm sure it sucks and I was an idiot about the whole thing.

The recognizable stranger -SQ- 2015 as well... I remember this one. I have mixed feelings about this but I will simply state that I don't remember what I wanted to do with this one. I was the: What if these two met prior to the events of S1 that existed back in the day.

Words unsaid -SQ- Technically I wouldn't count this as a wip but A03 is marking it as such so I'm going to stick with it xD FixitFic. I used to do a bunch of those with every new episode or so. Eventually, however, I stopped writing them in a single series. I remember having someone telling me that it bothered them that I did it like that and so I started posting them as separate one-shots and I guess I forgot to close the thread of this one.

The missing page -SQ- 2015 againnn, honestly, I don't remember what I wanted to do here. I believe it was about Regina going back into the book or in time and just seeing things from an outside perspective. It was also the time when writing Daniel and Emma as the same person -sometimes Emma having Daniel's soul within her some other times in a more convoluted way- was a thing. So if I remember correctly this was my take to that.

A forgotten promise -SQ- The witcher au before the witcher turned mainstream xD Ah, I'd have loved to finish this one. It required a lot of work and I was in the middle of my uni years and the feedback was... uh. Let's go with uh, so I started to have second thoughts, think it was rubbish and halted it altogether. [For context sake the small amount of ego I DO have tells me to point out I was churning 4 to 7 prompts per day at the same time] I would probably erase it entirely if I tried to do anything with it now so I'll just leave it there.

It feels like magic -SQ- Ohhh, remember when we all did magic realism? I loved that. On this one Regina was transformed into a cat because things and the story revolved around Emma buying her as her familiar. It has 13k posted but I think I wrote like 30k beyond what I ended up posting. Same story: I started to think it was shit; cornered myself into a panic attack and never finished it xD Tag yourself: Dianne doesn't end up their wips edition

Sateen memories -SQ- No fucking clue what that one was about

I'm not afraid of the dark -Princess Rover- It was going to be a rewrite of a bunch of lore back in the Shannara Chronicles all the while shitting on canon and the books but didn't happen.

What you want -SQ- Emma is the Dark One, Hypersexualization of the character. If you have heard me rant loud enough you know I prefer teasing. I got bored.

Nothing is true, everything's permitted.-SQ- The AC au! I also have mixed feelings about this one due to THINGS. It involved lots of studying because I wanted to make an accurate enough portrait of the historical momentum I was writing about. This was in 2017 so whilst I don't remember exactly I know I was working two jobs plus uni so yeah, nah, I didn't have the mind to write more than the prompts I was doing at the time xD

There is no hex or spell I could unlearn with you by my side -SQ- The HP AU. I basically stopped due to -points at JKR- and that it was a series of drabbles so it was linked to the amount of prompts. I remember it was the time Tumblr did an inbox purge, lots like half the prompts, most of them for ever so... it just sits there.

Of magic and prowess -SQ- Steampunk! It was supposed to be the second part of And the cogs are ticking if I'm remembering correctly. Very short and sweet, 5 chapters. I got 11 eleven kudos, 2 comments, about 15 asks stating that they rather wanted me to keep writing prompts than whatever I was doing with this and I said fuck it. Yeah, yeah, the vitriol I have inside is not lost to me.

Tiny nothings -SQ- Same thing as some fics above this one. I started doing lost moments but I ended up migrating it to single oneshots. This one is set in S6 so added to the previous explanation I would also add the: S6 was a pain, one.

Hidden truths -Rizzles- It was a prompt(?) but I was never too sure about my ability to write Maura and my brain shortcircuited.

Deipnon -SQ- Actually this one is co-written. Life happened. Nothing more. -I hope you are doing good Eva, love you lots-

Lost words -SQ- One word prompts. Same story than before really: I wrote them solely on tumblr, someone told me to re-post them on a03, I did, I then got anons telling me that it bothered them, stopped altogether.

The miller's daughter -SQ- Ohhh, I used to love this one. Rewriting of... something I guess xD Enchanted Forest based, total AU but trying to give a Grimm-esque perspective. 2016... who knows what I did xD Again, overworked is the answer.

But I know this night you will come -SQ- Well, actually this one was a trio if I'm remembering correctly... yeah, Regina, Red, Emma. Dunno, is this time to state that I've discovered I'm demi? lol. I'm not sex-repulsed but it bores me to tears writing about it. Give me teasing and I will write a full novella out of it. But sex is *yawn* for me when writing about it.

Ghost of you -SQ- Ohhh Emma!ParanormalInvestigator! I have a bunch of those. There was a mirror, a very angry Queen and far too much worldbuilding to fit into a tiny story. Yeah, I also see that pattern xD

Arcadia -SQ- The only fic I will ever be ashamed that I didn't finish to the point of self-destruction. I actually wrote it, I then lost the files, corrupted, gone, puff. But then I didn't rewrite it and then I felt self-conscious and then... shame.

Beyond -SQ- 2019 Probably one of the last de facto prompts I accepted. I wasn't feeling all that good about my writing. I think I was basically trying to jump start something that had died. I would have loved to finish it. Honestly.

Annnd, that's it! Tagging @rubikanon for this one <3

[elmidol]

Rogue Order - Chapter 4 (of 4)

Summary:  You are a barista in the coffee shop that Armitage Hux goes to every morning. He’s polite, however has never cracked a smile. One day, you decide to try to change that by giving him a little treat. Things wind up going much better than planned.

Read on AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Pairing: Armitage Hux/Reader

Rating: M; This chapter contains nsfw content (oral; vaginal sex)

for @terry2227​

notes: Modern Day/Coffee Shop AU; outline for fic was written by terry2227

Chapter Four

 “Do you want to move to the bedroom?” Armitage asked as you slid your hand upwards, the heel of your hand against the bulge in his pants. You shook your head in the negative while murmuring that you were content where you were--it was the truth, though you would not reject a future offer. Armitage sighed, tilting his head until he was able to bury his face into the crook of your neck. His tongue dipped out, wetting the area just as you undid the belt he wore and started on the zipper, dragging it down with exaggerated slowness. Armitage growled low in his throat then hissed out a swear that moved against your flesh in the form of hot breath.

 You slipped down onto the ground, on your knees in front of him, between his legs. You hollowed your cheeks while sealing your lips around the first inch. Armitage slid a hand so that he cupped the back of your head. The light pressure of him urging you forward was one that you rewarded. You swallowed more of him, undulating your tongue and toying with the sensitive flesh that rested on the organ. Moaning, you let your eyes slide close and paused, feeling the weight of his cock resting on your tongue. Armitage released a soft sigh of contentment.

 “That feels good.” You wondered if he was trying to fill the silence. A smile formed on your face, and you peeked up at him to find that he was looking at you. You began to pull back, his cock leaving your mouth with a pop. “Mm. Should I cum in your mouth, or--” You had started to stroke him with a hand again, twisting your wrist with each languid move.

 “I mean…” You trailed off, chewing on your lip and not quite sure how forward you should be.

 “I would like to fuck you,” he said, lips twitching in the corners so that he was giving you a wry grin. You hummed in delight and took him into your mouth again. This time you focused on the head, your tongue caressing just underneath it.

 Armitage could feel more heat pooling through his body as you continued your ministrations. He watched you bob your head, felt the way your hand moved up and down in slow strokes to toy with what portion of him was not inside of your mouth. When you pulled away the second time, you crawled up his body and placed a kiss against his mouth.

 He turned the two of you, placing his hands on your waist and moving so that you were pinned between the cushions of the couch and his body. As he did this, you swept your panties down the length of your legs and kicked them away. He tracked the path your hungry gaze took to explore his body; running along his chest to his abdomen to his cock then up to his face, where your eyes locked with his. You visibly held your breath as he positioned himself and began to enter you, the head of his cock stretching you open. Your cunt clenched around him, tugging. Armitage allowed himself a smirk when you pushed yourself downwards, impatient for him to be inside of you. He adjusted his hands onto your hips to still your movements. You whined at that, fluttering your eyelashes and offering a half-hearted glare.

 He felt his own body heating in desire, and he better understood your impatience as your hands began to explore him anew. This time you traced your fingers along the back of his neck then to his ears--ghosting over the sensitive flesh--and finally caressing his scalp. Armitage felt his cock twitch, your wet cunt again tightening around him, and he pushed into you further, sinking inside of you inch by inch. “Fuck,” you swore. This time he could tell that you purposely clenched around his cock in unison with rocking your hips as best you could while still in his grasp. Armitage chuckled, braced himself by gripping the armrest of the couch with one hand, and thrust forward so that he was fully seated inside of you.

 That thrust had nearly caught you by surprise; he had hit deep inside of you, in a way that you felt him throughout your entire being. You followed his gaze down to your stomach, catching sight of the bulge that undulated with every thrust. He knew perfectly how to angle himself. Armitage petted the area, and you threw back your head at the sensation of feeling him within you and without. A loud moan spilled from your lips, which drew a purr-filled growl from him.

 “Oh,” you sighed as he began to withdraw. He pulled backwards, making you feel the loss inch by inch until only the head of his cock remained inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing what was to come. Wanting what was to come. “Fuck,” the pair of you whispered together. Armitage pushed forward once more, his cock stroking your inner walls as it throbbed. He moved more quickly now, fucking you in earnest. Each thrust sent electric shocks throughout your body, hums of pleasure and heat that were amplifying the strength of the building dam that threatened to break at any given moment. The new angle caused him to brush along your clit with each shift of his hips. Every thrust brought you closer, the heat coursing through your body beginning to make you feel like the room around you was spinning, like you were floating.

 “You’re so fucking wet,” Armitage purred. He ran his hand along your breasts, his thumb toying with its nipple, rolling it, flicking it. You toyed with your clit until he batted away your limb to take over; at that point you took up where he had left off, pinching your nipple so that the bud grew erect from the stimulation. “So beautiful.” His voice was deep with arousal. You could feel him inside of you, the way he, too, was growing warmer as he grew closer to orgasm.

 “Mmm,” you moaned out, another swear slipping off your tongue mere seconds afterwards as Armitage told you, his voice low, that you were going to cum on his cock. His wet thrusts shook your body, and he stared down into your eyes when your eyelids again began to flutter. Your body thrummed around him, your cunt pulsing, tightening, gripping at him as you came. A few tears of pleasure spilled down your cheeks. Again Armitage noticed how beautiful you were. An inner beauty as well as an outer one. He groaned and growled through his own release. His body in constant motion as he fucked you through orgasm, his cum filling you.

 Armitage kissed your brow, your nose, your lips. They were so soft, he noted. He would never tire of kissing you. His hands cupped either side of your face, and this time his kiss was more tender. He repeated the previous compliment of beautiful then added lovely and enchanting, both of which had you smiling. You slid your arms around him nuzzling the crook of his neck and inhaling his scent. Armitage also moved his hands. He held onto you in a way that allowed him to maneuver your body and his into a more comfortable sitting position. You leaned against him, another hum leaving you as he tugged the blanket that had been folded over the back of the couch down onto you.

 “Would you like some hot chocolate to relax with?” There was a quick pause before you nodded, and he assumed it was due to a reluctance to move. “I can prepare it.”

 “We can do it together if you want. I know you’re capable,” you added the second portion after glancing at his face and finding that his brow had begun to furrow. Armitage shook his head while telling you that no insult had been taken, that he would appreciate your assistance since he had only prepared the hot chocolate one other time. This time, too, he had purchased both white and milk chocolate for a different combination. “I just need to find where my clothes went.”

 His laughter was rich, one of your favorite sounds in all the world. As Armitage readjusted his own clothing, he aided you in your search. You shimmied back into your clothes then followed him into the kitchen, which you had previously given but a cursory look. Now you were able to examine it in full. He possessed many of the appliances that you yourself owned, although his were different brands in several cases. The cupboards that he opened revealed a small selection of snacks. When Armitage opened up the refrigerator you learned that it, too, held a minimal amount of food. It spoke of how much he worked, a fact that you already knew about him.

 Armitage carried the ingredients over to one of the countertops, upon which he set the items and began to sort them. You joined in, taking over within seconds so that he was able to focus instead of securing the dishes and utensils that would be needed. Along with the chocolate that would be ground up, there was some ginger, sea salt, vanilla extract, and cinnamon. He had pulled almond milk out of the refrigerator after setting down the utensils. The two of you then fell into sync, working together to prepare the beverage. The recipe that he had selected to use was similar, though not identical, to one served in First Rogue.

 There was a small, dull ache in your muscles from how you had bent on the couch during sex; it was a welcomed sensation that you knew would fade away rather quickly. The cocoa would help with that.

 Pulling out two mugs from the cupboard, Armitage assisted you in serving the hot chocolate then carried the cups to the table upon which the game was waiting to be played. “Do you think you’ll be able to concentrate?” he asked, hoping that he did not come across as doubting you in any way. You brushed your fingers along the skin under your eye and toyed with the game, flipping over the box to read its synopsis. Instead of committing to a full game, you suggested that the two of you play a mock round. It was something that he had not considered. “Very well.”

 He set your cup in front of you as you slipped into the chair and began to open the game. You pulled off the shrink wrap, which he grabbed and tossed into the trash can after placing his own mug on the table. By the time he returned to his seat, he found that Millicent had worked her way over to sit at your feet, albeit a few inches away. Armitage smiled to himself, pleased that she was warming up to you quickly. He had found her to be a good judge of character, especially after she displayed a strong dislike of Brendol shortly after he had brought her home.

 “I’ll have to bring you here more often,” he said, earning your undivided attention. He nearly laughed at the speed at which you raised your head to look at him. “Unless you would rather I didn’t.”

 “No, no, I like that!” you protested, toying with the edges of the box, wriggling it back and forth until the lid and bottom separated. You flipped the top of the box upside down then started to grab out the instructions, which were on top of the board. “I like that we’re at this point.” Armitage settled into his chair again. He grabbed at the board, opening it up--it had been bent in half--and then reached for the game tokens that were sealed in tiny plastic bags. “The cocoa is really good.”

 “Just the cocoa?” he teased, watching closely as your face displayed how flustered his words made you. The expression was one that he knew he’d wish to see again.

 You paused in your actions when you felt a sudden weight on your lap. Millicent poked her head up above the edge of the table, peering at you before bumping her head against your stomach. You stroked her, ensuring that your movements were slow so that you did not startle the tabby cat. With your other hand, you spread the directions open in front of you on the table so that Armitage could also see what was written along with the pictures. You began to read aloud, continuing to pet Millicent all the while. Being with Armitage after sex, in his place, was so natural that it was weird for you to remember that this was the first time it had happened. That, more than anything, had been what had caught you off guard when he had spoken.

 Millicent curled up in your lap just as Armitage started to set up the pieces while you reread the instructions. There were a few small details that you had not digested the first readthrough. The rest, you knew, the both of you would better be able to learn and recall the more you played. Armitage’s face had a small smile that did not disappear in the least no matter how many times you peeked up at him while he completed the task of setting up the game.

 “You can come to my place, too,” you said when handing him the dice. Armitage paused, tilting his head to the side. His eyes darted about your face. You raised your eyebrows. “I know a lot can be learned from seeing someone’s place. I want this to be even.” When he still said nothing, you narrowed your eyes, teasing: “You know, I don’t live at First Rogue.” 

 He chuckled, nodding then shaking his head. “I am well aware.” His tone and volume were both soft, relaxed. “I have been wondering what your place looks like, especially after some of our conversations these past few weeks.”

 You leaned in, bracing Millicent with one hand to prevent her from rolling off your lap, and Armitage mirrored your actions. “I really want to show you my bed.” His eyes seemed to glimmer. “And tonight you can show me yours.”

 “Of course,” he said, his voice deeper, husky. It made the muscles in your abdomen tighten. You swallowed thickly at the memory of him inside of you, at the knowledge that you would be feeling him within you again before the night was up.

 Both of you settled back, sipping on the hot chocolate that you had made together. It was Armitage’s turn first on the game. You watched him, the directions off to the side and available to look at again. It had been a rough week for Armitage, who had been forced to endure time with Brendol and the man’s wife. Seeing him smiling, relaxed, it meant everything to you. There were many ways that you were learning to help bring out that expression, that joy in him. Taking another sip of your hot chocolate, you had an idea of a coffee flavor that he had not yet tried, one that you were almost certain would make him smile. If you spent the night, he had all the right ingredients in his home.

 Not only would it be a great night with him; it was going to be a wonderful morning.

[zebrabaker]

Choosing Destiny; Part 3

Here we go!

Raven followed Vil down the halls of the dorms, trying to ignore the stares of those around her. There were dozens of boys lining the halls, peaking out of various rooms, staring at her and whispering to each other. There must have been at least a hundred of them, all staring at her like she was…interesting. This was so weird. Less than four hours ago, she had been the most hated person at school, now she was the interesting new girl.

“Raven, dear, are you okay? You look rather stunned.” Vil asked, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m fine! Just a little overwhelmed.” She answered, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m only ever the center of attention when it’s bad.”

“That’s nonsense, mademoiselle. Here, you’ll be treated far better than that.” Rook smiled, ruffling her hair a little, making her giggle.

“Rook! Her hair was perfect!” Vil snapped, hands flying to fix Raven’s hair. Raven suddenly froze, grabbing a random lock of hair and pulling it in front of her face, before groaning.

“My magic wore off!” She huffed, letting the hair fall.

“What do you mean?” Epel asked.

“I usually use magic to keep a small glamour over my hair, adding in purple streaks. It makes me look more like my mom. Without it, I get confused for a Royal.”

“But…you are royalty.” Epel pointed out.

“Not Royalty, a Royal. Ever After was divided by civil war for a few years when I was young. The first faction was the Royals, typically Princesses and Prince Charmings, or those who got happy endings. They were led by Snow White and her husband, James Charming. Then, there were the Rebels, monsters, beasts, witches, and other villainous beings. They, well, they were led by my Mom. As is, I don’t look much like previous Evil Queens, I look more like a Royal, even a Princess Charming if you push. Hence the heels, and the glamour and makeup.” Vil hummed to confirm he was listening around a mouthful of bobby pins as he quickly braided her hair back.

“So, wait, your mom led a civil war?” Rook asked. “What was she fighting for?”

“Huh? I…I don’t know. After the Rebels lost, my Mom was locked away for good, and everyone was forbidden from even mentioning the war. We don’t even learn about it in school much. It’s seriously taboo to talk about it. My visits with Mom were all heavily monitored so that I wouldn’t accidentally let her out of the mirror dimension, so I never got to ask about it. She just said that she hoped I would follow in her footsteps.” Fiddling with the end of her braid once Vil was done, Raven frowned a bit. It had always bothered her, never knowing why her mother was serving a life sentence.

“Well, now is not the time for such heavy matters. We have an audience waiting on you, and Headmaster Crowley has called a meeting for all Dorm Leaders tomorrow morning, and has requested your attendance.”

“Okay. Um, before we begin, how many people are going to be asking me questions?” She asked, biting her lip.

“Oh, only about one hundred eighty!” Vil cheered, steering her by the shoulder into the main room from earlier. Raven gulped. This was so not what she had planned for today!

X0X0X

Raven had been seated in a plush plum-colored armchair in the center of the room, opposite the fireplace. Everyone was gathered around her, making her feel painfully claustrophobic.

“So, where are you from, Princess?” One voice asked from the back of the crowd.

“Well, my Dad rules the Good Kingdom, so I grew up in the palace. It’s technically split in half between Mom and Dad. I was raised mainly by servants, since Dad wasn’t too happy with his destiny, and Mom was locked away. I learned a lot of valuable skills though. I can cook, clean up after myself, I can balance a budget, and my Nanny taught me to play guitar and a few other instruments.”

“Could you play for us, Princess?” One of the boys near the front asked.

“An excellent idea!” Rook cheered.

“I…I guess? I should be able to summon my guitar if you’ll all give me a minute.” Raven stammered, cheeks and ears stained red with blush.

“Only if you don’t mind, mademoiselle,” Rook assured her, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“Not at all, I don’t get to play much, so this will be nice!” Raven patted his hand, before closing her eyes. What Raven did not see, however, was the vivid purple aura surrounding her as she murmured in the ancient tongue her mother had taught her. The purple aura around her began to condense into a tight mist, before taking the shape of a guitar. With a loud popping of displaced air, a plain purple guitar appeared in her lap. There was a floral pattern painted around the hole, which looked to be done in shades of silver and grey.

“It worked!” Raven cheered, running her hands down the strings. “What do you guys want to hear?” She asked, looking at the crowd. Sadly, she got no answer, as the entire crowd was captivated by the way her lavender eyes sparkled with happiness in the light.

“Why not play your favorite song, Princess?” One of the boys who helped her earlier asked.

“Okay!” Raven chirped and began to tune the instrument. “This is one my Mom used to sing to me each night, before she was sent away. Sorry if I’m not very good.”

“I’m sure you sound lovely, Raven,” Vil assured. Raven shrugged, before beginning to play.

“Where the Northwind…meets the sea~.” Raven’s voice was…enchanting, high and sweet and pure. “There’s a river, full of memory. Sleep my darling, safe and sound. For in this river, all is found. When all is lost, all is found~.” The whole dorm was silent, staring at the tiny angel whose voice seemed to come from heaven itself. As her song wound down, she seemed to come out of a trance. “Where the north wind meets the sea, there’s a mother, full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound. Where all is lost, then all is found. All is found, all is found…” Raven, who had kept her eyes closed as she sang, slowly opened her eyes.

“Raven, that was most wondrous!” Rook cheered, clapping wildly.

“Rook is quite right, dear. I simply must record you playing for my MagiCam sometime.”

“I will not lie to you; I have no idea what that is.” Raven giggled. “So, Vil said you guys had questions for me?” She set the guitar aside, folding her hands in her lap and smiling at the crowd.

“How did you get here?” A redhead asked.

“Ah, I was practicing my magic and got scared…something went wrong, and I wound up in the woods here. I was wandering for hours when I found the school, and Rook helped me to the nurse. After that, headmaster Crowley said…something about enrolling me? He had me sorted, and then called Epel here to escort me to the dorms. Honestly, it’s been an intense few hours!”

X0X0X

As Raven fielded questions, Epel kept a close eye on her. She was being nothing less than the epitome of polite, answering all the questions she was asked, but her shoulders were starting to slump.

“So, Princess, do you have a boyfriend?” One of the boys further back called. Raven suddenly went a deep red.

“Or a girlfriend?” One closer to the front added.

“No! The one guy I kinda like is…not interested in me. He would never be.” Raven smiled in a melancholy way.

“What? Dear, you’re royalty!” Vil gasped, clutching his throat like a lady of old England.

“I’m also the daughter of the Rebel leader, Vil, and he’s expected to be the next Prince Charming, as in the guy who marries Snow White. Not exactly an ideal relationship.” Raven sighed a bit. “Anyway, anyone else have questions?” Several hands shot into the air, making Raven giggle.

“Vil, hey!” Epel whispered, tugging on the taller boy’s sleeve a little. Vil raised an eyebrow at him, keeping his attention on their resident royal. “Raven looks pretty tired, and she’s had a long day. We need to make sure she gets her beauty sleep, right?” Vil tensed at the magic words.

“Alright, that’s plenty of questions for now! You can all get to know Raven later; she needs her sleep.” There was a collection of disappointed groans, but everyone slowly bid Raven goodnight, trickling out of the common room in clumps and batches.

“Thanks, Vil. I was starting to get pretty tired.”

“Of course, dear. You will, of course, be joining me for my evening skincare routine. I create my cosmetics and skincare products, so they’re top of the line. Epel, Rook, go make sure that Raven’s room is completely ready.” Both boys nodded and walked off, leaving Vil to lead Raven to his bathroom.

X0X0X

Vil eyed Raven as he gently scrubbed off his makeup. She was eyeing his array of skincare products with great interest, and yet there was a wary air about her. Going through the steps, he explained the ingredients of each product, along with their general purpose.

“-and this one contains apple extract; its purpose is to serve as a sunblock of kinds.”

“I…can’t use that one,” Raven muttered, burying her face behind a curtain of her hair.

“But Raven, you’re so pale! It cannot be safe for your skin to be out in the sun, exposed to the light.” Vil tutted, crossing his arms.

“It…it’s stupid, but I’m allergic to apples. Just the skin makes me go into anaphylactic shock, I can’t be anywhere near them. Like I said, stupid. Who’s ever heard of the evil queen not being able to handle apples?” Raven chuckled a bit, but Vil could see in her eyes that this deeply bothered her.

“Well, in the traditional tale, the one I was taught, the queen tried a myriad of ways to dispose of Snow White, like a cursed comb or an enchanted corset. Besides, you said you didn’t sign the book, so there’s no point in fretting.” Vil shrugged, handing Raven a face cloth. “If you can’t use that one,” Vil made a mental note to dispose of the bottle later. He was responsible for this sweet girl, accidentally sending her into shock would be terrible. “then try this. Cucumbers and pomegranate juice. Works wonders.” Yes, Vil was determined to protect this girl.

Once they had both cleaned their faces and applied a variety of things that Raven was very confused by (Vil had looked like a ghost when she said she usually just used soap and water to wash her face) Vil had asked her to wait in the hall while he checked his room for something. He stepped back out a moment later, holding a bundle of shimmery cloth in both hands. “I want you to have this, dear. It’s my back-up robe. We typically eat breakfast as a dorm in our pajamas, but it isn’t appropriate for a young lady, especially a princess, to be seen in her pajamas. Speaking of, do you have appropriate sleep clothes?”

“I can just change this into something, don’t worry!” Vil paused, before sighing.

“If you insist. Good night, Raven dear.”

“Good night, Vil!” Raven chirped, making an about-face and walking to her room, closing the door and leaning back against it with a sigh. Summoning her guitar had taken a lot out of her. It was a complicated spell normally, but with the odd barrier between here and Ever After, it had nearly knocked the wind out of her. Not to mention the endless questions, she honestly didn’t understand! She wasn’t special, she was a villain! Even Dad had been wary of her most of her life! Summoning the dregs of her magic with a sigh, Raven switched her transfigured dress into a comfortable set of sleep pants and a tank top in a shade of teal that made her desperately miss Maddie. Throwing the robe Vil had given her (it was lovely, a rich purple with gold patterning and a large gold sash) over the back of a chair, she slumped over to the bed and collapsed onto it, groaning at how soft it was. This had certainly been one hell of a day.

X0X0X

The knock at the door came far too early. Groaning, Raven dragged a pillow over her head and rolled over, effectively tangling herself in the comforter.

“Mademoiselle Raven, breakfast is ready!” Rook (he was the only one with a habit of speaking French, oddly enough) called through the door. “Vil also needs to escort you to the dorm leader meeting today, so you won’t have much time for breakfast.”

“Just two minutes and I’ll be out!” She called back, sitting up with a silent huff.

“Alright! Vil had me bring you a basket of shower things, I’ll leave it out here for you.”

“Thanks a million, Rook.” Raven slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed, shivering when the cool floor came in contact with her feet. Thinking fast, she transfigured a random dust bunny she spotted from the corner of her eye into a pair of slippers that matched her pajamas. Grabbing the robe from the chair at the last second, Raven swung it over her shoulders, tying the sash as she made her way to the door. Upon opening the door, the first thing to catch her attention was the basket of bottles set on the floor. There were three bottles and a few washcloths, along with two large fluffy looking towels, a toothbrush in a sealed bag, and a container of toothpaste. On closer inspection, the bottles, which contained a pearlescent powder blue substance, were shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Heaving a sigh of relief, Raven set the basket on the vanity and stepped into the hall, absent-mindedly wrangling her voluminous hair into a set of pigtails. Looking around the halls, she cautiously followed the source of the noises she could hear, voices and the clinking of dishware. After a few minutes of wandering, she found a large dining room filled with several circular tables, each filled with boys in pajamas. Along the furthest wall was a long table, loaded with foods of all kinds. Raven had barely set foot into the room when she heard Vil call for her.

“There you are, dear! Come sit down, we need to eat.” He was seated at a larger table in the middle of the room, with Epel on one side and an empty chair on the other. Raven slowly made her way over, conscious of all the eyes on her.

“Good morning, Raven.”

“Good morning, Epel!” Raven responded with a smile. Without Epel, she probably wouldn’t have gotten to go to bed till much later last night.

“I already got you a plate, so dig in,” Vil commanded. Raven complied, beaming at the selection in front of her. There was a strip of bacon, an omelet, and a small bowl of what was likely yogurt, topped with nuts. Honestly, it looked like a breakfast she would have at home, with Cook. Picking up her fork, Raven took a moment to observe those around her. Vil’s manners were impeccable, while Rook’s were decent, and Epel’s made her want to cringe a little. Despite being the next Evil Queen, she was still a princess, and had been given almost four years of etiquette lessons as a kid. From what she could see of other tables, it was a mixed bag.

“I can’t lie, I’m pretty happy to see a healthy breakfast. At Ever After High, it’s all sweet foods and pastries every morning. Most of us Rebel kids can’t stomach it, but the Royals love it, so we don’t ever get anything good.” Raven commented, cutting up her omelet into small pieces.

“Really? How odd, here every dorm takes a weekly poll on what to have for breakfast each week. Headmaster Crowley would never exclude an entire group of students like that.” Epel scoffed, wrinkling his nose.

“Indeed.” Vil sniffed. “I can’t imagine that’s very good for their skin, either. Ah well, you’re here now, Raven, and that’s all that matters.” Raven smiled a little. Yeah, this wasn’t so bad, not at all.

X0X0X

As soon as Raven finished eating, Vil shooed her off to get ready for the day, making Raven giggle. He may act vain, but the boy was rather maternal. Once she was back in her room, Raven quickly hopped in the shower, pleased to find that the shampoo and conditioner Vil gave her were not heavily scented, but instead smelled faintly of jasmine. After she had rinsed the last of the conditioner, Raven hopped out and spelled one of the towels to dry her hair as she brushed her teeth. For some reason, her magic was working far better here than it ever had back home. Not once had something gone wrong. It was odd, being able to rely on her magic. Shrugging it off as a problem for later, Raven spelled her clothes clean and transfigured them into the same clothes as yesterday, this time pulling her hair into a four-strand braid. Sliding her feet into her heels, Raven made her way back into her room proper right as someone knocked on the door.

“Just a second!” She called, trying not to glance at the mirror on the vanity out of the corner of her eye. She’d need to get something to cover that with. Raven opened the door to see Vil, wearing an odd layered outfit, waiting on her.

“You look lovely dear. Now, we barely have time to do your makeup, but I’m nothing if not capable under pressure.” Vil grabbed her shoulders and spun her about, guiding her over to the vanity. Raven sucked in a deep breath at seeing herself in the reflection. She neverlooked in mirrors if she could help it, especially for long periods. With the glamour out of her hair and no lipstick, she almost looked like her half-sister….

“Now, I’m thinking a natural look, we’ll leave your lips bare, but a touch of highlighter and blush will look lovely. Hold still, this won’t take five minutes.” Vil’s words snapped her from her thoughts, making her shake her head a little. With expert precision, Vil swiped a brush across the top of her cheekbones and along the bridge of her nose. After a few more swipes, he clicked the compact in his hand closed, smiling.

“I am too good. Alright, take a look and then let’s be off, it would be rude to be late.” Vil was so busy packing his things back into his purse that he didn’t notice the slight panic in Raven’s eyes when she realized that she needed to look in the mirror. Taking as quick a glance as possible, Raven stood and pushed the chair in.

“Ready when you are!” She chirped, folding her hands in front of herself.

“Alright then, let’s be off! I can say with certainty that the other dorm leaders will adore you.” Vil said, smoothing a few flyaway hairs out of Raven’s face.

I hope so… Raven thought. 

@keiwahikari

@sayuricorner

[urmomification]

WOOO POG DREAM SMP AU

theres 1.8k words and 9,393 characters of a schlatt au below the cut LMAO

[i was rambling to my friend and this is what came out of it! send me an abt it if u have questions i would love to talk abt it more pls]

(slight body horror/gore tw!!)

slams fists on table rattling any dishes on the table au where schlatt doesnt die of a heartattack and tubbo locks him up to rot basically and his horns grow into his eyes effectively blinding him and chained his hands together and basically a leash on him to keep him from moving around in his cell so he cant do anything to break the horns off before they get too long and one day when technos breaking into lmanberg he gets chased into the prison and loses them in the halls before coming across schlatts cell and schlatts calling out like 'whos there i can hear ur foot steps whos there please someone whos there' etc yk and technos speechless they thought they executed him to keep him from causing any more problems in the country but this is this is just much worse than anything he even thought theyd do and hes standing in front of schlatts cell just looking at him as if hes imagining it he knew lmanberg was bad but holy fuck they just let this man rot in a cell to the point of his own horns blinding him and giving him no aid or way to ease the pain so he makes himself known and schlatt 'ive never been so happy to see, well, hear an anarchist in my life, its good to see- hear you technoblade' and chuckles and blood runs down his face like tears would, few drops landing on his clothes before techno starts trying to get into the cell to take him out of there he cant leave him here sure he was an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but he had standards and now that schlatt wasnt in power he had nothing against him really considering he isnt a citizen of lmanberg so he manages to pick the locks enough to get him out of there, schlatts arm slung over technos shoulder they stumble out of the prison building and as they slowly make their way to the nether portal to get back to technos base, they run into tubbo and quackity, schlatts old right hand men and they try to stop techno bc hes well an anarchist terrorist w a murder record but the glare techno gives them levels them and theyre left staring at each other for a moment when schlatt 'whyre we stopped whos there tech' and techno mumbles 'tubbo and quackity schlatt' and schlatt just furrows his brows as far as he can without sending excruciating pain into his eye sockets before he purses his lips and asks 'are they going to try and stop us?' techno looks back at the other two 'no they wont, isnt that right boys?' tubbo and quackity slink away allowing techno and schlatt to the portal and them going thru, schlatt still silent as he tries not to trip over technos cape or off the ledge of the bridge passing over the lava lakes, they make it to the portal and begin the walk across the arctic tundra to technos house, philza isnt there right now so its just the two of them and techno leads him up the ladder to his room (its not really a room i think its just a bed, a bell and an enchantment table) and sits him down on his bed mumbling something abt being right back and he is with some medical supplies and a change of clothes to clean everything up, they dont talk techno works in silence and when schlatt winces he mumbles a small apology before continuing eventually techno got schlatt as cleaned up as you can get someone w horns in their eyes and a sweater to keep him warm and finally starts asking questions 'how long had u been in there' 'lost count' 'did they bring you food' 'a chests worth at the beginning of the month' techno sighs 'i thought they executed you' 'tubbo chickened out despite me being 'an active threat to our peace in lmanberg' and locked me up a few days after u set the withers loose and dropped off a chest of food once a month and most of them refused to talk to me others couldnt even make eye contact with me, other than the few instances where they said things like 'heres ur food' or 'u deserve this' or 'i cant believe tubbo let u live' i talked to no one other than myself for however long i was in there' techno stands and walks around for a moment before flipping some pages and schlatt can hear him gasp quietly in mild surprise 'what is it tech' looking in the direction he heard techno from and techno says, turning to face schlatt on his bed 'schlatt that was almost 3 months ago' a single beat of silence rings for what feels like forever 'oh. i, i didnt think itd been that long. though it would explain my current predicament' loosely gesturing towards his face 'oh right abt that i have a few questions if ur ready to answer some' schlatt hums and techno grabs a pen and paper and sits next to him in case he needs to take any notes for future reference 'how fast do ur horns normally grow' 'idk just a steady amount my whole life pretty much' 'will they ever stop growing' 'they generally stop growing around 30 and continue to grow more in width than length' 'did anyone who brought u food notice' 'they grow quickly and by the time the person w the third chest came around they were getting close to my eyes but they didnt listen to me, no one did' he sighs looking down at would be his hands 'the odds of both of my horns growing into my eyes and blinding me like this are so low but of course it would happen to me' a chuckle void of any amusement 'because losing my country and my people and my power wasnt enough already' techno stands up 'you had that coming' schlatt actually laughs this time, short and curt 'ok fair, u were the one that took me down afterall' and from then on schlatt lives w techno and phil and eventually tommy and then without tommy (tommy was Not happy when he found out that schlatt was living with techno but he needed somewhere to stay too and techno happens to live in an arctic tundra where only a handful of people know how to get to so he didnt complain too much) and eventually techno saws off schlatts horns at the bend adn removes them from his eyes bc if they kept growing into his head theyd hit his brain and kill him on top of blinding  him and techno gags and almost throws up despite not being sensitive to gore  and gives schlatt a bandanna to cover the holes in his head for everyones sake and once they heal somewhat he can find something else out and thats how they live, schlatt helps with what he can like farming w phil but mostly spends his time learning braille or something so he can read and techno gets him books in braille so he isnt bored or alone like he was in the prison and he feeds him and takes care of him and schlatt is funny and entertaining despite being blinded by something from his own body and the torture it was like to rot in a cell alone for almost a 1/4 of a year and nights when techno gets home late and hes shaken and the voices are bad schlatt will sit behind him and play with his hair and talk abt his own day and rub technos back and in return when schlatt relapses and gets violent and angry techno will wash his hair and read him stories until he calms down and hopefully asleep and no one told him the news that wilbur died so when ghostbur shows up and starts talking to him he treats him the same as he would wilbur bc he cant see that hes a ghost all thats different is his speech pattern and overall personality and one day he says 'ur different wilbur what happened to that, i dunno spark u used to have' and wilbur simply 'im not sure if im being honest a lot abt me has changed since i died, or so im told i dont remember much from when i was alive' and schlatt just 0_0 and then hes scrambling down the ladder and stumbling around the house looking for techno, finding him in the basement working on something and when he gets there hes out of breath and his hands are shaking bc holy shit wilburs not only dead but a ghost and he was just talking to me and he doesnt remember what i did and and and and techno is shocked to see schlatt in the basement and asks whats up and schlatt just 'wilbur died wilbur fucking died tech why didnt anyone tell him and now hes a ghost hes a fucking ghost who lives in ur house and doesnt remember anything he doesnt remember that he blew up lmanberg does he he remembers my name but not anything that i did what hes a fucking ghost techno hes a ghost holy fuck' and technos just standing there like ??? no one no one told him 'yea philza had to kill him after he blew up lmanberg i thought u knew thats why i didnt say anything' oh. 'phil, phil had to kill him?' 'yea its a touchy subject, dont bring it up' and simply goes back to what he was working on so schlatt sits on the ground by the ladder and listens to him work his brain going a mile a minute trying to comprehend whats going on 'would i have become a ghost if theyd chosen to execute me?' 'its hard to say im unsure if theres specific circumstances that contribuite to someone becoming a ghost but theres really no telling' and goes back to working yet again and from then on they fall into an easy schedule of techno going out and doing whatever an anarchist terrorist w a murder record does on ur average wednesday and schlatt stays home reading and organizing whatever he can based on size and feeling and sleeping in windowsills and schlatt greeting techno comes home beaten up and full of new resources and a side of bruises and cuts so he tends to them, getting better at maneuvering and functioning without needing to see then techno making dinner and then curling up by the fire for the night enjoying each others company as they talk abt their days :]

[hookedonapirate]

Accidentally On Purpose

Summary: They shared one incredible night together five months ago, and after she disappeared from his life without a trace, except for the intoxicating scent on her pillow, he never thought he'd see her again.

That is until his colleague, David, sets him up on a blind date with his sister.

When fate brings them together again, she's full of surprises. Two to be exact.

A/N: This is something I've been working on, but I have no idea what inspired me to write this, it's just a concept I've been wanting to write that popped into my head quite randomly. This will most likely be a 2 or 3 parter, depending on the muse. She holds the reins here, I just do what she tells me to do lol.

Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld​​ for looking it over and for your feedback!!!

Catch up: pt 1

Also on: Ao3 I FF.N

Rated: M

Part 2

The sound of her name yanks Emma abruptly from her thoughts, and she shudders at the way the British accent slides through her like smooth silk. “That’s me,” she replies and scoots off the stool, grabbing her things. He sounds familiar; she would never forget a voice or an accent like that, but she can't seem to place the voice with a face. Until she turns around and sees who her date is.

  Fuck.

  Emma’s jaw slackens, her face drains of color and cold sweat beads across her forehead.

  “You’re Emma?” 

  Unable to form words at the moment, she manages a nod. 

  “I’m Killian.”

  Holy mother of—

  “You’re Killian?” she asks dumbly, unwilling to believe it. But she knows very well it’s him. She’d never forget that face. That messy, black hair. Those impossibly blue eyes. Those lips. God, those lips were so firm and demanding and loving when he kissed every inch of her body. And the tongue she can detect as his mouth hangs open. That wicked, yet exquisitely soft tongue worked miracles on her.

  He nods. “Well… this is awkward,” he chuckles lightly, scratching behind his ear.

  He has no idea exactly how awkward it is. He hasn’t put together the pieces yet.

  She scoffs. “Yeah, considering I'm much fatter than I was when we first saw each other.”

  “You're not fat, you're carrying twins.” He offers her a rose and a smile. “You look stunning.”

  Her cheeks flush and her heart flutters as she takes the rose, bringing it to her nose to draw in its scent. While the gesture is very sweet, it makes her realize she can't do this, just like she couldn't do this the last time when she woke up next to him.

  She wants to take off running, something she's very good at, except for when she's pregnant. So even if she could move her feet, which now feel they've been super-glued to the floor, she wouldn't be able to run, at least not fast enough to outrun him if he chased her after her.

  The maitre d’ gives them a moment of reprieve when she leads them to a table. A cozy, secluded table in the far corner of the restaurant. Falling behind Killian, Emma’s eyes shit to the emergency exit which isn’t very far from where she is. She could sneak over and dash through the door before Killian knows she’s gone, not without setting off the alarm though. But did she really want to risk missing an opportunity here? The father of her unborn children is directly in front of her. This is her chance to rectify the situation. Question is, did she really want to? 

  Placing a hand on her belly, she proceeds to the table. Things are different now. Every decision she makes affects her little ducklings, so she has to think about them and how her choices will ultimately affect them. 

  Yes, she’s doing this for them.

  Killian pulls out a chair for her, and she sits down, thanking him with a faint smile. He claims the seat across from her as the maitre d’ leaves the table. 

  Part of her is hoping he won’t put the pieces together, because while she’s thinking of her children, she also has to think of him and how the truth might completely change and possibly ruin his life. And at least now, she’ll be able to tell her children their father’s name. 

  Ugh, she is so conflicted and confused. 

  ~*~

  Killian's not sure what to think when he discovers David’s sister is the same woman who ran out of the motel room and out of his life. The woman who left him with an empty side of the bed, her scent on the pillow, an empty feeling in his heart and fond memories of the previous night.

  He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that night, how good her legs felt wrapped around his waist, how good she tasted—her soft mouth when he kissed her, her lovely skin and warm nectar bursting on his tongue when he licked between her thighs. Even before they left for the motel, he couldn’t remember the last time he had so much fun. Probably never. 

  David was right; she’s definitely a feisty lass. Their banter and teasing jabs drew him in even more, but her laugh… God, her laugh was so enchanting he wanted to spend his entire life making her laugh just to hear that wonderful sound tumble from her lips over and over again. She's also beautiful and intoxicating, and her skin was so warm and silky that night as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. She was so responsive to his touch. His mouth went dry, and he wanted to make her laugh again, he wanted to make her fall apart in his arms. 

  He rarely picked up women at the bar, nor did he hook up with women he barely knew in a motel room, but he was incredibly attracted to her the second she walked into the establishment. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, still is, and she appeared to be alone, so the decision to buy her a drink was an easy one. He sent it her way, and the rest was history. 

  Later on, he asked her if she wanted to get out of there. But he wouldn’t have been brave enough to ask if he hadn’t witnessed the want in her eyes, the way she flirted with him, if he hadn’t felt the way her warm palm found his thigh underneath the table, the way she stroked him so close to where he was already very excited and very hard. He’d never left a table so quickly when she agreed to meet him at a nearby motel. She had to use the ladies' room to freshen up or whatever lasses usually did in the restroom. Reckoning she’d be too stubborn to let him pay for the entire bill himself, he took the opportunity to leave for the motel to reserve a room while she was in the restroom. 

  He returned to the bar to walk her to the motel in the dark, and sure enough, she tried to reimburse him for half, but he refused. He invited her, so he could not in good conscience allow her to give him anything for the room. Well, she would give him something, just nothing of monetary value. She gave him many things that night; she gave herself to him; she gave him the best several orgasms he’s ever experienced, with her hand, her mouth and her very warm and very tight cunt wrapped gloriously around his cock. She gave him a night of passion and ecstasy; she gave him a night to remember. 

  They could barely contain themselves as they walked to the room. As soon as they were behind closed doors, their lips connected, they tore off each other's clothes and made love with raging-hot hunger, moans, heavy breaths mingling and filthy words filling the room. She buried her fingers in his hair as he buried himself inside her , and she tugged on his hair every time he filled her to the hilt. They were too far gone to savor and taste each other thoroughly the first time. 

  So once he caught his breath, once his desire and sweat had cooled, only slightly, he traced and kissed every dip and curve of her body with curiosity and fascination, worshipping her properly as she explored him with greedy fingers. When he settled between her thighs, parting them for easy access to her entrance, she reached for him, fisting locks of his hair as he licked up the sweet evidence of what he had done to her. What they had done to each other. They went three rounds before their bodies collapsed, before they were completely sapped, and sleep seeped into his bones as her head rested on his chest. She was so sexy, demanding and irresistible and they’d thoroughly worn each other out. When he woke the next morning, he'd been looking forward to a fourth round with the gorgeous blonde goddess who'd shifted his world off its axis in merely a night, so when he reached out for her, he was incredibly disappointed to find her gone.

  Needless to say, it was an incredible night. In fact, it was probably the best night of his entire life.

  Unfortunately, Emma doesn’t appear to feel the same. She doesn't seem too happy to see him. He guesses she might be a tad embarrassed because she ran out on him after that night. She could leave right now if she wanted to, but she’s not, so perhaps it’s a good sign. Or perhaps she’s only being polite. 

  She looks afraid for some reason as she peruses the menu, like she’d seen a ghost. Not afraid of him, but afraid of something. She’s biting her bottom lip as if she’s warring with herself about something. She did the same thing when he asked her to leave with him that night. Does she feel guilty about going on a date while she’s pregnant? Single mothers have needs too, so she shouldn’t feel bad or guilty. Just like she shouldn’t feel bad or guilty about the night they shared five months ago.

  Five terrible months. Five months.

  A thought suddenly slams into his brain, and his mouth goes dry. They were together five months ago. And Emma's five months pregnant.

  Could he be…

  His face pales and his throat closes up.

  No, it’s not possible, is it?

  Emma looks up, seeing the awestruck expression on his face. She senses he’s putting the pieces together.  

  Oh.  

  He is the father. That’s why she’s so conflicted. Isn’t it?

  “So, uh…” he stumbles for words as he scratches behind his ear. “Do you… do you know who the…”

  “Who the father is?”

  “Aye.”

  ~*~

  Emma’s not sure what to tell him. Should she tell him the truth? She takes a deep breath and sets down the menu, placing her hands in her lap as her eyes bore into his. She could, but she wants to gauge how he’ll react before she even decides whether to tell him or not. “No, you’re not.”

  She thinks he’ll be relieved, but wait… is he disappointed? She can see the disappointment flicker in his eyes.

  Fuck. 

  Now he probably thinks she's a slut who sleeps with random strangers all the time. Why can’t she just tell him? Why can’t she just break through the walls of fear preventing her from telling him? A big part of her wants to, but another part of her doesn't want to ruin tonight. Because once she tells him, the rest of the night will be weird and awkward and she’s not sure it’s the best time.

  The best time?

  She can just hear Mary Margaret screaming at her right now. 

  He’s the father of your children, Emma! Grow some balls and tell the man!

  Or would her sister-in-law tell her to wait until the end of the night, until after she’s released some stress. But that would be so wrong—to get her fix first and then drop a huge, atomic bomb on him.

  “So, um… can I ask what happened to the father?” he asks, scratching behind his ear again. “I was just curious… any man would be a fool to walk away from a woman like you and those babies.”

  Emma’s cheeks warm as she gives him a weak smile. 

  Well shit. 

  “I just… um, I’d rather not talk about it,” Emma says firmly.

  “As you wish, love.”

  So they don’t discuss it. The server arrives to take their orders, and Emma thinks of other things to talk about, like the weather or their jobs, or anything else to avoid telling him he’s the father.

  “Can I ask you something else, Emma?”

  Crap.  

  She can tell by the tone in his voice and the look on his face, she’s not going to like his question.

  But still, she nods and takes another sip of water.

  “Do you not want to do this?”

  The question takes her off guard a little. She sets down her glass, seeing the insecurities flashing in his eyes. He’s afraid she'll run again. “Do what?”

  He gestures between them. “ This. Do you regret showing up, since it turns out I’m your date?”

  “I… um,” she gulps, fumbling for the right words to say. She reaches over and takes his hands in hers. “Look, Killian… it’s not that I didn't enjoy our night together, because I did.” A small smile curves her lips. “In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I got scared. I was afraid if I stayed, I’d end up falling for you. I was afraid I’d end up getting my heart broken because it’s happened before. I’m kind of damaged goods.”

  “Thanks for your honesty, Emma,” he says appreciatively as he pulls his hands away, “but you didn’t answer my question. Do you regret agreeing to this blind date?”

  She shakes her head. “No, I don’t. Do you?”

  He has a stoic expression on his face. “Aye.”

  Emma’s heart drops. She feels like she's just been drop-kicked in the stomach. “Oh.”

  He holds up his hand, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he speaks. “I spent the last five months wondering if I’d ever see you again, I spent five months thinking about the night we shared, I dreamed about you constantly, I wondered if we’d ever run into each other again or what I'd say to you if we did. I barely know you and yet you turned my entire world upside down. And now that you’re right in front of me, you’re… you’re pregnant with another man’s children and you…” his voice cracks, “you agreed to this date thinking you'd be going out with a man who wasn't me. You were willing to go to a restaurant, have a pleasant conversation over dinner with the possibility of something more, even though you’re five months pregnant. You were willing to endure something uncomfortable, something a bit awkward just so you could engage in more enjoyable activities later on.”

  What the fuck?

  Killian doesn't appear to be happy; his jaw tightens as he pulls out some cash from his wallet and throws it on the table. “You were able to endure all of this for some man you never met before, someone your sister-in-law and brother set you up with, and yet you weren't willing to endure an awkward morning-after with a man who already showed you, what I thought was a very good time. You didn't have the decency to at least wake me up with a kiss and say goodbye before you left.”

  Oh wow, he really is pissed.

  Killian stands up, tucking his wallet inside of his jacket pocket. “You were afraid of getting hurt, and yet you hurt me after only one night of being with me.” The look he regards her with makes her shiver. It makes her heart crack. “So yes, I regret going on a date with someone who wouldn't bother to stick around for even one morning after they had their fill.”

  Emma never expected this, she never expected he would be the one to up and leave. As she watches him go in heated silence, she realizes she’s once again losing the opportunity to have this man be in her life. In her children’s lives. She’s letting him slip away from her fingers once again.

  No, not this time.

  ~*~

  Killian can't believe this. The amount of pain he feels is indescribable. Unbearable. Sure, he knew what he was signing up for when he took her—a woman whose name he didn’t know—to a motel room. He asked for her name but she responded by asking him, what fun would that be? He went along by saying they were just two ships passing in the night. So he wasn't stupid or naive, but still… he never thought she'd leave him high and dry the second she woke, nor did he think it would be so easy for her to move on with her life like he was nothing but a good lay. That's all he was to her. A good lay.

  His blood bubbles as the reality of it all sinks in, and he can't breathe. His heart fucking hurts, and he can’t make it stop, as much as he wants it to. Reaching his car, he hauls the door open, desperate to leave and go home so he can drown his sorrows in a bottle of rum.

  “Killian, wait!”

  He freezes, his hand clenched around the door, his jaw tightening as he hears her heels click across the pavement.

  He stands there, waiting for her to approach him, debating whether to leave. Whether to listen to what she has to say or try to forget about her. 

  Like that could ever happen.

  “Killian,” she wheezes, out of breath when she reaches him. “You’re right, I’m an asshole, I should've stayed. I should’ve given us a chance, but I didn’t. And I can't take that back, all I can do is not let go of that opportunity again. All I can do is tell you the truth and make things right.”

  “The truth about what?” he demands, turning around to face her.

  Emma peers down as she fidgets with her fingers. “So um, what I’m about to tell you is um… well, I don’t want you to think I’m expecting anything from you at all, I just…” She looks up at him, and his breath catches when her stunning green eyes connect with his blue ones. “I want to make that perfectly clear.”

  I'm the father, aren't I?

  Killian’s heart feels like it’s about to explode. He's the father of the babies growing inside her. And suddenly the anger inside him turns into something else. Knowing he might be the father of these twins makes him hopeful.

  Wait. Twins.

  Reality slams into him, turning his face pale. “So um… I’m the…” he swallows the large lump in his throat.

  She reaches for him, sensing his anxiety, and takes his hands in hers. “Yes, you’re the father, but as I said, I don’t expect anything from you. That’s why I didn't tell you at first. I didn't want to bombard you with any obligations. I didn’t want to wreck your life.”

  “Right…” he murmurs, trying to process this as he releases her hands. “I’m sorry, I just need a minute to myself. I promise not to run away this time.”

  She nods in understanding. “Take all the time you need.” 

  She heads back inside, leaving him at a loss for what to do. It was different when she told him he wasn’t the father, but now that he knows he is, he can't turn his back on her and the twins.

  Bloody hell.

  He’s a father. To twins.

  Killian’s head is spinning as he drags his hands through his hair, sucking in the fresh air through his nostrils. She said she expected nothing from him, but he’s not about to abandon her or the babies. Those are his babies too. And he’s not about to let her raise them by herself with a monthly child support check as his only contribution. No, he can’t do that. He doesn’t even know Emma, but they can change that. If the night he met her was any indication, despite the fact she left him, then they could make this work. The chemistry was there, the attraction, the connection. And it wasn’t just physical. They had some great conversations and good laughs. Maybe he can give this a shot, maybe they can make this work. Or at least try. If things end up not working out between them, he can at least share custody with the twins, right? He has to let her know she’s not alone in this. No matter what happens between them.

  Killian takes another deep breath, drawing in the courage to face her again before heading inside.

  ~*~

  Emma’s not sure what to think. Did he leave, or is he considering what she told him? She doesn’t blame him either way. She’s had time to process this, she’s had a little over four months to figure out what to do, what steps to take. 

  When she saw the two pink lines, she was in tears. How in the world was she going to raise a baby? She was living in her brother's guestroom for crying out loud. And she was always chasing her next mark. But there was no way she was giving up her baby. Being a foster kid and bouncing around from one home to another until David’s family finally adopted her, she wasn’t about to put her baby through that. Then she found out she was having twins and even though it completely flipped her world upside down, she wasn’t about to change her mind. She was doing this, father or not; she would raise these babies and give them the love and home they needed, even if she had to do it at her brother’s place. 

  She didn’t want David and Mary Margaret to feel obligated to help her raise the twins, but they’d assured her they didn’t mind. They knew how to raise a child, and they weren’t about to send Emma off to live on the streets, especially with twin babies. She agreed, but not without promising them and herself she’d start looking for a place of her own once she saved enough money to afford it. 

  So she can understand having to take some time to think and process all of this.

  Her question of whether or not he left, is finally answered when he returns to the table, completely wrecked and out of breath.

  “Are you um… are you okay?” Stupid question because why would he be okay? She just dropped a bomb on him.

  He reclaims his seat across from her, his eyes meeting hers. “I’m uh… I mean, I‘m just shocked, if you can imagine...”

  Emma manages a small laugh. “Yes, I can definitely imagine.” 

  He takes a sip of the tea he tried to pay for but never touched. He thought it would be impolite to order alcohol and drink it in front of her since she couldn’t have any. Emma learned quickly he’s considerate like that. 

  She reaches into her purse for the cash he had left on the table. She hid it to save their table and told the waitress they’d be back, desperately hoping they would be. “Here.” She hands over the cash. “Dinner is on me… if you’ll still have dinner with me. It’s the least I can do after what I did to you.”

  He puts up his hand, refusing it. “Nonsense, Emma, I’ll still have dinner with you, but I’ll foot the bill. It’s the least I can do for knocking you up.”

  Her lips tip into a slight smirk as she lays the cash on the table. “If I recall, it was just as much my fault as it was yours.”

  He blushes, his face finally cracking a smile. This is good. He’s able to smile despite how real this situation became for him.

  “Would you like to see them?” she asks, still clutching onto her purse.

  His brows furrow in confusion. “See what?”

  She laughs. “The twins, silly.”

  His eyes light up, excitement dancing over his handsome features. “You have the sonogram with you?”

  She nods. “Yep.” She pulls it out of her purse and hands it to him. “This was at twelve weeks when I found out they’re fraternal.” She smirks. “Not only did your little swimmers get one of my eggs, they got two.”

  A big smile takes over his face as he studies the picture in fascination. “What can I say, love, my little swimmers are overachievers.”

  Emma snorts. “You can say that again.”

  “Do you know the genders?”

  She shakes her head. “I’ll find out during my next appointment. It’s on the 20th if you’d like to come.”

  He looks up from the sonogram, still donning a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  His features become serious again, and he takes a deep, shaky breath and reaches across the table, taking her hand in his free one. “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. I’ll go with you to the doctor’s appointments and parenting classes, I’ll go out and buy you food when you’re having late-night cravings and I’ll give you foot and shoulder rubs when you’re achy. Whatever I can do to help you feel as comfortable as possible, I’ll do it. And I’ll be there when you’re in labor, I’ll bring you to the hospital and I’ll stay by your side the entire thing, okay? And after that, I want to be involved… as much as you’ll allow me to be. They’re my babies too, and I can’t just walk away to let you raise them by yourself.”

  Emma’s kind of shocked, but she shouldn’t be. She knew Killian was a good man; she knew it the night she met him, but after he got so upset and told her he regretted this date, she thought he wouldn’t want anything to do with her, whether he was the father or not. “Really?”

  He nods. “Really.”

  Hope warms her heart as she gazes at Killian from across the table. This man was devastated when she left him and is now offering to do everything he can to help her and the babies. Their babies.

  “We don’t have to discuss all the logistics right now, it’s only our first date after all,” he says with a smirk. “But I want you to know I’m committed to this. I want to be a part of the twins’ lives.”

  “So, we’re doing this… together?”

  He nods, his eyes twinkling with hope. “Aye, we’re doing this.”

  Her eyes sting with tears, and she smiles, trying to fight them away, but one escapes, sliding down her cheek. The twins will have a daddy. A father who will love and cherish them.

  Killian sets down the sonogram to brush his knuckles along her cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb. Her breath catches, her heart fluttering as she closes her eyes, nuzzling her cheek into his touch. The same gentle touch she’d felt that night... before they left for the motel. She’s putty in his hands, just like she was then.

  “Do you want to get out of here, love?”

  Emma opens her eyes, taken aback by the question. 

  “We can have our dinners boxed up and take them to my place? I think you’ll find it’s more comfortable there. Besides, if we’re spending time together, don’t you think we should get to know each other a little first… you know just to make sure we got along.”

  Emma smirks. “I don’t know, we got along pretty well five months ago. We got along so well in fact…” she sits back and places her hands on her belly, “this happened.”

  He chuckles, a pink blush painting his cheeks. He’s so fucking adorable; she doesn’t understand how she walked away from this guy five months ago. What the hell was she thinking?

  When the server approaches their table, Killian asks her to box up their meals, and she returns with a big sack. Killian pays for their dinner and rises, extending his hand to Emma. She smiles and grabs her rose and purse before slipping her hand in his.

  Emma had a ton of doubts about tonight. A ton of insecurities and a laundry list of reasons why this date was a terrible idea. But now she has hope. So much hope. And Killian lets her know there are no expectations for tonight. And she’s glad because while she could really use a night to relieve some stress, while she’s still feeling a bit turned on even after the very serious and very real discussion they had, she wants to take things slow with Killian. She knows how ridiculous that sounds, considering they’ve already had sex and are having babies together, but she owes Killian a proper morning-after.

  So after eating dinner on his comfortable sofa, after he gives her the shoulder and foot massages he’d promised, they slip into his bed together. But instead of making love, Killian wraps his arms around her and just holds her. And when he feels the twins kicking under his palms, he tells her it’s the most incredible feeling he’s ever experienced. And that’s saying something, considering the night they were together five months ago was the best night of his life. Until tonight. Now it’s a very close second considering they are reunited and having a baby together (which is scary, really scary, but at least Emma’s not doing this alone; she’s doing this with him). Nothing will compare to the birth of their twin babies though.

  In the morning Emma wakes up before he does, but instead of running away (as if she could run anyway) she surprises him with a kiss on the forehead and a fresh cup of coffee. 

  And she smiles, knowing this is just the beginning of something good. Something really good.

[kosmosguk]

Insatiable| Yandere Vampire Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Fanfic Type: Fic; Angst and Thriller-ish

Description: You never would’ve thought that the boy you rarely talked to would harbor such a sinister secret, and that you’d be the one to suffer from it.

[Warnings: Death, blood, literally anything about vampires, some spooky themes, yandere themes, manipulation]

It's the night before Halloween, and instead of watching horror movies or baking pumpkin bread like you normally would've, you're stuck here, waving around a flashlight in an old clearing before a very large, very abandoned, and very, very haunted mansion.

You didn't want to be here, but when Taehyung flashed his boxy smile and made his eyes into that damned kicked puppy expression, no one could refuse without feeling like a monster. You, despite your many, many years of friendship with him, certainly couldn’t.

The building was old, dilapidated, and looked like it was going to fall apart into pieces if a strong enough wind gusted against it. The bricks’ color was faded, a washed-out shade of brown, and mold crusted its crevices, peeking out of the dark and clinging onto any bits of space in the open air that it could. It creaked, groaned, and protested under its own weight.  And you were sure that if the supposed ghost didn’t kill you, something for sure would with the atmosphere of this place.

It was also an awfully cold night, the kind of cold where it sunk deep into your bones and left you miserably paralyzed. You wanted to go home, wanted to sink into your warm covers and feast on the slice of pie you had baked earlier that day. You would’ve done anything but this.

You heard a soft crunch of leaves underfoot, but when you turned the flashlight around to peer at the cracked gravestones lining the courtyard, there was nothing. You shook your head, burrowing your face deeper into your warm scarf. It must’ve been your imagination. 

"You look a little dazed," a girl from one of your classes--what was her name again? Jiwoo? Ah, Jisoo--said, coming up from behind you.

"Just feeling a little tired from Professor Kim's boring lecture," you feigned a yawn for exaggeration. Jisoo nodded in agreement before her eyes became glazed, foggy. 

"Hey, Y/n," she said next after a brief pause punctuated the air between the two of you, and her next words, ones that you could never ever forget until the day you died, chilled you to the very bone.

"Who do you think will die first?"

You sputtered out, unable to answer properly because what the absolute FUCK was that kind of question. You knew this wasn’t a good idea, and Jiwoo, Jisoo, whatever the fuck her name was was clearly out of her mind. Going into a haunted house with her was, you were completely sure, not going to end well.

"Hey! We're about to head in; don't fall behind!" Taehyung frantically waved from in front of the doorway, three other classmates by his side who you were fairly sure were named Seokjin, Jungkook, and Jennie.

They all turned to stare at you, with three of them including Taehyung smiling brightly down at you, but the new guy, Jungkook, didn’t smile in a friendly manner like they did, choosing instead to stare at you almost unnerved you more than Jisoo's words did. His eyes were intense, almost hypnotizing, and the stare lingered even when everyone's gaze shifted away. You shivered, though this time you were certain that it wasn’t from the cold.

"Coming!" Jisoo waved back before looking back at your frozen self, smiling in a way that could've been interpreted as friendly but, when you peered just a little closer, menacing, like she knew something you didn't.

You tried to calm down your rapid heartbeat as she left, heading up to join the rest of your group.

Taehyung noticed the distress you were in and leaned over, flinging an arm around your shaking--you didn't even know you had been shaking--shoulders and leaning close to you with an inquisitive look in your eyes.

"What's up? Are you scared?" Taehyung asked, his voice soft and full of worry.

"Yeah I'm fucking scared," you hissed out between clenched teeth," Why did we have to come here? Let's just go back, Tae. Forget this ever happened."

Taehyung's eyes flashed with an uncertain emotion before he said," Don't you know? We can never go back."

For a second, Taehyung didn't look like Taehyung, not the one you knew. It was like he was enchanted, spun under some delusional fantasy that he couldn't escape from. But you brushed that thought off. He was still Taehyung. Your Taehyung. Your best friend Taehyung who hogged too much of the blanket and tried to warm up his icy blocks of toes on you.

"What the fuck; that isn't even funny, you dickwad!" you grimaced, sharply shoving your elbow into his side, your lips twisted in a grimace-like frown.

‘’I was just kidding. Lighten up!’’ he laughed, though you noticed with building panic that the emotion didn't reach his eyes. "You can wait outside for us then! We'll be in and out before you know it!"

Your mind spun as you tried to think of an answer. You could stay out here, where at least your phone had a bit of service, or you could go in and possibly die at the hands of some ax-wielding maniac straight from a thriller. 

"Fine, I'll stay out here. You better be out in 20 minutes or I'm calling the cops," you said, huffing.

Taehyung smiled at you, reaching to ruffle your head, and for a second, he looked just like your Taehyung," Thanks, Y/n/n."

You walked away, standing by the entrance of the courtyard as you watched them open the door before getting swallowed up by the darkness inside. A sharp chill ran up your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The door clicked shut. The chill never left.

You bundled tighter in your coat, teeth slightly chattering as you waited, each second feeling a minute and each minute feeling an hour. You heard the sound of creaking wood and flashed your flashlight in the direction. There was nothing that greeted you except for the scampering of a small rat across the boards. You felt your fear rise with every second and you itched to just go in, haul them out, and leave. One more minute, you thought to yourself, one more minute and I'm going in.

A scream shattered the night air, and you noticed that it sounded an awful lot like Seokjin with the way it flawlessly rang out. After all, there was a reason why he was the lead actor in the musical at your University. You just didn’t think that you were going to experience his full vocal capabilities in this kind of situation.

You dropped your flashlight in panic and scrambled to pick it up, taking out your phone and trying to dial in the emergency number.

The call didn't go through and with a look at your bars, you realized that the service had cut out.

What were you going to do? Try to run back and get someone to help but it might be too late or run inside and find out what was happening?

Your mind flashed with each thought as your panic built up in your throat, choking you. You saw images of Taehyung, small child Taehyung handing you a bandaid when you first met, Taehyung setting off the fire alarm because hell he couldn't cook, Taehyung when you had a nightmare and he had run to your side even though he lived an hour away and it was 3 in the morning. Hell, you had to go in. Not just for your own sanity, but for the boy you watched grow up, the boy who never left your side. You couldn’t leave his side now.

You got up, running towards the building, your shoes slapping against the cobblestones, and rushing inside the building.

Without you even needing to, the door swayed behind you and shut, sealing you inside.

"Taehyung?" You looked around, wandering in the direction that you were sure the scream came from. You felt a cool breath wisp against the back of your neck and fingertips slowly sliding up your side in a sensual sweep. You whirled around. There was no one behind you.

You pressed on, calling out Taehyung's name until you saw a brief glow of a flashlight. You exhaled in relief as you hurried towards the light.

You got closer and closer, your fingers shaking.

Taehyung, Jennie, and a shaking Seokjin greeted you, three out of the original five. You let out a breath you hadn't known you were holding at the sight of Taehyung, intact.

"Didn't mean to scare you!" Taehyung grinned, like you hadn't been sent to the ends of hell," Jisoo and Jungkook went missing and we went to find them but Seokjin got scared because there was a big spider in the doorway."

You sighed, smacking your forehead in a sign of complete exasperation and relief before your frustration set in, hot and melded with the intense fear you were suffocating in. 

"God fucking dammit, Kim Taehyung. I thought something had happened!" you weren’t even fully aware of this but tears had built up in your eyes, threatening to drip down your cheeks," I thought something bad happened and I lost your dumb ass."

"Hey, hey," Taehyung panicked at the sight of your tears, reaching over to wipe them away," Don't cry! You won't lose me without a fight."

You sniffled before crossing your arms resolutely. "I better not, you asshole. Now let's find Jisoo and Jungkook and leave this shithole."

Taehyung's eyes shifted slightly at your words, a brief flash of intense emotions, fear and panic, glowing in them before his eyes cleared, and he was back to your easy-going, loving Taehyung.

"Let's check the hallways! Maybe Jisoo wanted to check out the rooms and wandered off!" Jennie said, pointing away.

Your group started to walk in that direction, getting closer and closer when a movement in the corner of your eye caught you off guard.

"What's that?" you whispered loudly," Did you see that?"

Everyone else looked at you, curiosity and confusion written all over their faces and you shook your head. "Nevermind, probably imagined it or something," you said, clearing your voice," It's probably my nerves."

You reached out for the doorknob of the nearest room and watched, in stupefied fear as it creakingly swung open. Jennie let out a bloodcurdling shriek as the door slammed against the molding wall, making a loud dull thud as it hit, before bolting.

"Jennie!" Seokjin's teeth practically chattered together in fear as he bolted after the girl," Stop!"

You called out Seokjin's name, turning around to call for Taehyung to follow you because everyone knew that you didn't want to get separated in a horror movie. And everyone also knew that getting yourself stuck in an old creepy clearly haunted house was also not the smartest idea. But clearly, your group wasn't the smartest and you were fucking stupid for going along with them.

And when you turned around, just like what would happen in a horror movie, Taehyung wasn't there.

"Taehyung?" Your voice was a soft gust at first, meek and trembling as the first wave of pure animalistic fear finally hit," Taehyung! TAEHYUNG!"

The only reply that greeted you was stone-cold silence. You didn't hear Seokjin calling after Jennie anymore or Jennie running frantically to the doorman. The only sound you could hear was the rushing of your blood through your veins and the rapid way your heart thudded against your ribcage. You sucked in a deep breath and pushed it out before scrambling after the direction Seokjin and Jennie went in. You were going to find them both, and then you were going to find Taehyung. You just had to.

You weren't expecting to find them like this though. You stumbled into the main hall and noticed two dark figures hidden in the shadowy dimness of the mansion, swinging your flashlight to whom you hoped were Seokjin and Jennie.

Jisoo greeted you, her eyes flashing crimson and she grinned, the kind where all her teeth showed, and you noticed how sharp and white and bloody they were. Her skin, which was already usually pale, glowed translucent under your flashlight's yellowy artificial light.

You noticed the second figure next, the one that had been tenderly scooped in Jisoo's arms. Jennie, still and pale, looked terrified, her mouth stretched open as if she had been prepared to scream when Jisoo attacked her. You noticed the two neat puncture marks, oozing a trail of vermillion, in the crook of Jennie's neck and felt like you were going to hurl.

Jisoo bared her teeth at you, dropping Jennie's body onto the ground, and your stomach turned and churned when you heard the dull thud.

Jisoo took a step forward, licking the blood trail dribbling from her mouth, and she met your eyes, the predatory glint that had been washed over them shining brilliantly.

"You know," Jisoo practically sneered, and she looked, illuminated by your flashlight, like an avenging angel, both beautiful but oh so terrible and merciless," If you weren't his beloved, you would be replacing her next. But he wouldn't mind if I had just a little taste, right?"

Your chest constricted as Jisoo took another step closer, looking like she was ready to launch herself at you, and you couldn't move, couldn't breathe as her body tensed and...

"Jisoo.”

Her neck snapped to look behind you, and your head slowly craned to look behind you, feeling almost robotic with the level of fear and panic that you were drowning in.

Jungkook stood behind you by the window, his beautiful features glowing underneath the waxy glow of the moon. Even when you had to squint to properly see him, he already mesmerized you. He had a sharp jaw, soft pink lips, and slightly round intense dark eyes. His features were inhumanely perfect, and even the steeper slope of his nose added to his allure. You were transfixed, your mind occupied with thoughts about Jungkook.  His eyes wouldn't stop looking at you, their eyes burrowing deep into your soul as he waved dismissively. You heard a soft rustle of fabric behind you and when you dared to look back, Jisoo was gone. His voice was breathless as he shifted slightly, a blur of black, and then he was in front of you so uncomfortably close.

"You know," he cupped your cheek, his touch cold, lacking the warmth of life," I knew from the very moment that I saw you that you were my destiny."

You didn't move a hair despite how much you wanted to. You heard of the way vampires could enchant someone and force them to comply with their demands. You just never thought that vampires were real and that, if they were, you'd be a witness to them.

"I saw you in passing and the way I felt, that is the only way I could ever feel with my mate. I wanted to steal you away, take you away, but that's quite suspicious in the human world apparently. But it wouldn't be that suspicious if you went into a bad place and ended up gone, now would it?" Jungkook pressed you further against him, burying his nose into the crook of your neck," Taehyung was difficult to control, but humans are malleable, no matter how strong they think they are."

Your throat freed and you managed to finally speak, although you still couldn't move.

"Why did you have to kill Seokjin and Jennie and," you sobbed," What happened to Taehyung?!"

You couldn't see his smile, how innocent and bright it was like a little boy opening up a big present and finding out that it was exactly what he had wanted all along, but you could feel it pressing into your warm flesh, almost mocking.

"We got hungry," you felt his teeth prod at your flesh as he pressed even further against you," And with the way you're so close to me, I'm getting a little hungry too."

"You don't mind if I take a bite?" his voice was raspy, animalistic almost.

You didn't reply. You couldn't reply. Even as tears dribbled down your cheeks and splattered onto him, salty, you couldn't say a word.

Jungkook played with the hem of your jacket, gentle like a lover would, and then his teeth sunk in, sharp like needles.

Really, even if you could answer, with the way he desperately curled into your warmth, Jungkook would never take your refusal for an answer.

After all, Jungkook, the boy who barely spoke to you before except to ask for a pencil and the boy now who refused to let you go, was absolutely insatiable.

[HAPPY HALLOWEEN BABES! I wanted to release something for this spooktastic holiday so my writing is messy :( Be safe and take care of yourself on this spooky day! Part 2 of my reactions will be posted soon, but I wanted to focus on writing this today! Love you <3]

[thelanternlight]

Source

Witchy Asks!

Hello fellow witches! Here’s 50 Witchy Asks written by the-lunar-vixen. Please follow if you enjoy them. Blessed be!

1    What type of witch are you?

A gay one.

2    What deities do you like to work with, if any?

Angels, faery, guides, Mother God, Father God, Christ, saints, and ancestors. I'll also work with deities from various religions as they pertain to a spell or ritual (e.g. I may work with Hathor for a love spell).

3    Have you ever created your own spell?

Absolutely, most of the spellwork I do is original at least to some extent.

4    What’s your favorite time of year?

All the year is beautiful and wonderful for a myriad of reasons but Springtime is sacred to me.

5    Do you have a witch you look up to?

I think I have teachers that come and go in my life. They can be famous or not famous, witches or not, etc. Currently I'm loving Ember Honeyraven.

6    What makes you feel powerful?

Balance and freedom. Knowing that I'm on the side of what's good and right.

7    Do you have a favorite myth?

I'm an author and storyteller so I have many, many favorite myths. Off the top of my head I love the stories of Medusa, Apollo, the Christian Creation myth, Germanic and Scandinavian folklore, Anansi and his stories, Arthurian legends... the list goes on, but yes I LOVE stories. I think have so much meaning and wisdom to share.

8    Which famous/fantasy witch do you relate to the most?

I've grown up watching witches in movies, television, reading about them, etc so I've related to witches one way or another since day one. The Charmed Ones (all four) were role models for me when there were no role models for little, effeminate weirdos like myself as a child. The Sanderson Sisters were person heroes to me and I tried to emulate them from the very first time I saw the film; in fact those three are perhaps the original witches with whom I related the most. Since then there have been SO many wonderful characters in entertainment and in real life that inspired me so incredibly much that they've become a part of me.

9    Are you a wiccan?

I am not.

10   What’s the most unique item you’ve ever used in a spell?

I guess a dildo? I think 'unique' is a relative term.

11   Do you own any witchy books?

Apart from my personal book of spells I've owned many books on witchcraft but have parted ways with the majority of them. I'm currently trying to downsize the amount I have currently as it happens. Anybody want some free books?

12   Which misconception about witches annoys you the most?

That magic isn't real and this is all nonsense. I think it's especially irritating when people of other faiths criticize my own as if a prayer is anything different from an incantation. In fact I would argue that spells direct energy in a more concentrated way to affect change than simply petitioning a deity.

13   Have you ever created your own sigil?

You bet. Sometimes you just need something original and unique for the rite/spell.

14   What element are you most drawn to?

Water.

15   Do you have a familiar?

Some people use the word "familiar" interchangeably with "pet". I do have a pet but she's not my familiar. Other people define "familiar" as "spirit animal" which I'm not entirely sure is correct either. I'm in a bit of a gray area on this subject, but I see question 17 below touches on it as well.

16   Are you a part of a coven?

No. I've tried working with others to do magic but I think the synergy/chemistry has to REALLY be on point to do effective magic. Very often there's a clash of philosophies or practice that sort of spoils things all too easily whereas working alone allows me to concentrate so much better.

17   What’s your spirit animal?

Again this is a vague term that means different things to different people. I consider my spirit animal to be more or less my "familiar". When I was younger I was walking in the woods one evening praying really hard about something that was weighing very heavily on me. Then suddenly I looked up and there was this gorgeous and perfectly white stag looking back at me. He stood there for quite a while before slowly walking off again and the whole situation had such a profound sense of meaning to it. I saw the stag a few more times until finally, late one night while I was walking through the woods by a lake under the glow of a bright full moon I saw the stag one last time on the far side of the water. Ever since then the white stag has been sacred to me. So that's what I consider my spirit animal/familiar. It's a guide of sorts, a good omen, a sign, a representation of Spirit/Soul/God-energy and Self. I identify with it. So that's my spirit animal.

18   Do you do tarot readings?

I do indeed!

19   What’s your favorite witch movie?

I have several, but Hocus Pocus has been my favorite since I was a wee tot.

20   How many crystal do you have?

I actually don't really know. I don't go out and buy crystals but sometimes they come into my life and then go when they've served their purpose. For example, I had a beautiful large quartz that my grandmother had bought me from the nature store when I was a kid. I loved it so much. But one Halloween night I was doing a ritual with a friend of mine in the woods and ended up losing it. Interestingly, that friend was pursuing me romantically unbeknownst to me while also hooking up with the guy I was hooking up with and also really liked (ugh, gay culture). And during that ritual I was speaking with my grandfather (husband to the grandmother who bought me the quartz that I lost that night). So what does all that mean? I have no idea. But I figured all things considered maybe it was just time to let that thing go, along with other things that night.

21   What’s the most unique item on your altar?

I don't really have the privacy to set up an altar but generally I like my "work area" to be neat. Everything has a purpose and a meaning and a function. If I need to burn something I have the item/items, the cauldron, the lighter, oils, and anything else needed for what I'm doing. So nothing in particular stands out as "unique"... unless... Well I do have a small copper cauldron with a handful of dirt from my grandmother's house that I've kept for almost twenty years now. I guess that's unique?

22   Have you ever enchanted anything?

Oh god, yes, lots of things. I've enchanted things so as to protect them, or so that the item will protect someone else or some place... I've enchanted things for love, or to keep something or someone away. I've enchanted things to help in a greater ritual or spell. And so on.

23   What’s your religion?

I was raised Christian Baptist but following one horrible experience after another I've absolutely left that faith well behind long ago. I don't have a particular religion in the sense of organized religion. I'm spiritual and I cast spells. I also believe in science. I don't call myself a witch but I do everything a witch does.

24   Do you have a favorite crystal?

"I could no sooner choose a favorite star in the heavens".

25   What are some of your favorite spells?

Oooo I'd have to say I'm rather partial to love magic. I'm particularly good at it too.

26   What do you like to do to cleanse your space?

After physically cleaning a space I like to use the Violet Fire to cleanse an area as well as cleansing using a broom and a wand and/or athame.

27   When do you feel the most powerful?

When nature and I have our little moments. When the wind is warm and strong. When I'm out in a storm. When I can "feel" things growing during the Spring. The silence of a frozen winter night in the woods... Also when I'm cooking. I fucking LOVE charging a pot of boiling ingredients with good juju.

28   Do other people know you’re a witch?

A few people close to me know I practice witchcraft. Others think I'm just a little bit daffy.

29   Has one of your spells ever gone wrong?

Definitely. Mostly when I was still learning and practicing. Like this one time in sixth grade I cast a spell so that a popular girl in school would like me and we could start dating. Obviously since I was gay I didn't really want to be with her, I only did it because I wanted to be cool (although I did like her and we ended up being fairly good friends until we went to different high schools). That spell backfired and I ended up 1. not getting the result I intended because I was doing it for the wrong reason and simultaneously trying to force another to do something against her will, and 2. I ended up having one shitty fucking love life for the longest time.

30   What outfit makes you feel the most witchy?

Oh I love me a good cape. Even just walking around with a long blanket around me.

31   Have you ever tried astral projection?

Yes, successfully, several times. I like to use it for meditation. Often I go to the artic sea where there's just ocean, ice, and darkness.

32   Do you have any enchanted jewelry?

Probably.

33   What does your altar look like?

A space on the floor where I cast a circle and set up my stuff.

34   Have you ever seen a spirit?

YES! I've seen fairies, spirits, ghosts, shadows, sparks, heard voices, etc.

35   What’s your favorite spell sachet?

I can't say that I have one.

36   Do you have a favorite sigil?

I'm especially fond of the Sigil of Venus.

37   What’s your astrological sign?

Sun sign Virgo, Rising Pisces, Moon in Sagittarius

38   Have you ever interacted with a deity?

Well, yes, of course... per the previous questions.

39   What color are you most drawn to?

Purple.

40   Do you believe in past lives?

Without a doubt.

41   Where do you like to practice your craft?

Wherever I have privacy and calm.

42   What’s your favorite season?

Springtime, as mentioned previously.

43   Have you ever cursed someone?

That's not what my magic is for. Yes I'm familiar with the how-to, but no I don't partake in that kind of thing. The "worst" I've ever done is cast binding spells to keep someone from harming me and/or even coming into my presence.

44   How long have you been a practicing witch?

I'm telling on myself now but I'd say about 24 years practicing in earnest.

45   What drew you to witchcraft?

A natural inclination.

46   In what moon phase do you feel the most powerful?

The Moon itself does not change with the phases of its shadow. The phases are representational, of course, and its symbology can be evocative and meaningful, but otherwise the Moon is what it is. Therefore I'd have to say I personally feel most connected or at least most aware of the Moon when it's full. Else, I would say when it's waxing as that's when most of my spells are done simply because of the type of spell I usually work.

47   What’s your favorite holiday?

Wisterlimas, and then Halloween. Although I love all the holidays.

48   Do you know anything about your past lives? (if you believe in them!)

Yes, wow, I've done extensive work on discovering my past lives. I've lived in San Francisco at the turn of the century, in Scotland, England, France, Japan, China, as a woman, as a man... It's all very fascinating but you can't delve too deep because it's simply not necessary. You're not really *supposed* to know about your past lives. That defeats the purpose of the great forgetting once you're reincarnated. Yes, you can revisit the major themes and lessons learned, but one shouldn't really fret too much about what happened in the past.

49   Have you ever done an energy reading?

Certainly. I think most people do energy readings even when they don't know they're doing it. There's "reading the room" or "getting a bad vibe". There's also reiki and the like. And healing work. And of course magic is all about directing energy so to achieve a specific goal.

50   What time of day do you like to practice your craft?

Usually at night but it has more to do with the individual spell. Astronomical positioning is also important as well as weather, season, personal mood, day of the week, et al.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Spiritual Connection - Part 2

Summary: Ever since you were a child, you had known the five men who lived in your Grandmother’s house. What you weren’t expecting upon returning as an adult was that they would still be there - and look exactly the same.

Pairing: Brian Kang / DAY6 x reader

Genre: ghost au / fluff / romance

Warnings: none

Spiritual Connection will be posted daily at 10am NZST.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

You felt as if you had returned home for the first time in years. Staring up at the proud home before you, nothing had changed. The flower beds and bushes were just as wildly maintained as usual, and you looked to the front of the house and smiled when you saw the porch swing you had sat out upon every morning watching as the world started to wake up for the day.

It was all just how you expected it to be and you were struck with a wave of grief. You missed her terribly. You wished you had come back sooner, not letting the throes of life and the bustle of the city overwhelm you and make you only consider of how to get through each day.

You should have sought out this enchanting place far sooner.

Getting out of your car after reaching for your bag, you moved onto the cobblestone pathway that wound through the flowers up to the front porch, fingering the keys within your jeans pocket. You had kept them close ever since they had been handed to you, much to your mother’s chagrin.

“But you have so much going for you in the city, Y/N! Don’t throw it away on that little seaside escape. You’ll find it’s not how you imagined it to be. As a kid, you could play all day. Now as an adult, you have to worry about how to survive. There’s not a lot going for work there.”

Taking a deep breath, you ignored your mother’s pessimism and slotted the key into the front door.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you and began to explore. Some items triggered memories and others puzzled you. Why had you enjoyed hiding so much behind this big chair? You remembered the highs of your childhood here, full of laughter, excitement and happiness. Had your friends moved away now? The house was so silent, apart from the sounds of your footsteps, or the opening of doors as you peered into the rooms. Did you really imagine them all? You sure had been a creative child at one point.

The longer you wandered through the home, the more certain you became that it was just your grandmother living here after all. When your world was turned upside down with your parent’s divorce, you had needed some sense of comfort in that confusing period. You rationalised your friends to be projected as just that, the workings of needing friends during an upsetting time.

“So then, who do I need to clear out of here, Grandmother?” you murmured, turning around in a slow circle as you surveyed the living room. On your second spin, you saw a set of eyes that you hadn’t in many years. Blinking rapidly, as you spun, you caught the face that was attached to those warm brown eyes, wobbling to a halt.

“Y/N?” he tentatively asked and you stared back at Brian for a moment, before a loud scream erupted from within your chest, and you promptly passed out.

“Wave the bag of smelling salts closer to her nose, you idiot!”

“I am, can’t you see how close they are? These things still stink after all these years.”

“Do you think Y/N’s going to be okay? She hit her head pretty badly.”

“Wonpil, if she’s not, we’ll just blame Brian, okay? It was him who showed himself first.”

“Would you all shut up, I was surprised too, you know. I had expected that attorney to come back and keep snooping through Pearl’s belongings for signs of life here, not Y/N.”

There was a loud snort and you felt your heavy eyelids start to lighten off with the sound. “Only the dead walk here.”

“Look, guys, she’s stirring!”

With a groan, you finally fought through the endless dark world back to the light, where the voices above you all ceased. When you managed to open your eyes again, you stared up into the faces of five familiar men. It shocked you just as much as before, but since you were sprawled out on the ground, you merely jerked back, eyes growing wide again.

Jae shook his head adamantly. “No, don’t faint again! I’ve been shaking these salts for twenty minutes and I know it might not seem like much to do, but they are heavy.”

Silently, you eyed the bag above you, soon scrunching your nose up when you inhaled the strong scent attached to them. Reaching out to take the bag from Jae’s appreciative grip, you sat up slowly, vaguely aware of all the prepared arms shooting out to help you just in case.

Man, this was confusing.

Before, you had been hoping to see your childhood friends as soon as you entered the home. Even after all these years, you had believed you couldn’t make up five men. If you had wanted friends, shouldn’t they be closer in age to you? That would be the most logical choice for imaginary friends. And whenever you questioned why they were so old in the past, Sungjin would smile distantly and say that he couldn’t do as good of a job protecting you if he was too young. Dowoon had enthused he was stronger this way and Jae had always joked around with you asking why you were so young instead. It had never really bothered you that much, accepting them for what it was at the time. Regardless of appearance, they had played with you endlessly. And they had been your friends for many years.

How had they not aged since?

“She looks confused, are you okay, Y/N?” Wonpil asked, kneeling closer. He chuckled sheepishly. “Feels weird to think you’re Y/N, I remember when you were this tall.”

“Why? People grow up, Pil.”

“Not us,” Dowoon interjected and Brian reached to smack him around the head. “What? Being dead means we stopped aging a long time ago.”

“What… what did you just say?” you asked, and the conversation fell short. The men looked between one another for a moment.

And then Sungjin tentatively smiled. “Y/N, you really didn’t know?”

“I know you’re my childhood friends, and you’re still in my Grandmother’s house after what, eight years since I last saw you?”

“That’s kind of what happens when you’re a ghost,” Jae surmised and Wonpil hissed at him worriedly. “Don’t hiss at me. There’s no point sugar-coating it. We weren’t imaginary friends, Pearl knew we lived here. She used to play with us when she was young too.”

“I’m sorry,” you started, raising your hands and heaving in a deep breath, in hopes it would help you understand better. “Did you just say, you played with my Grandmother when she was younger?”

Five heads bobbed up and down and you slumped in your posture, unblinking.

“Do we need the smelling salts again?”

Taking in a shaky breath, you glanced up into the face you had first seen earlier today. Brian had always been the one you turned to the most. He was cautious, watching and waiting for your next reaction. You swallowed despite your throat feeling dry. “Just how long have you been here for?”

You paced your bedroom floor back and forth, trying to understand your discovery. Your grandmother’s house was haunted? Was that some kind of joke? Since when could you see the dead, anyway? If that was the case, shouldn’t you have seen many others before in your lifetime too?

You shivered, despite the warm spring evening, rubbing your hands against your skin to take the chill out of it.

The five of them had tried to give you the space you requested after getting up and removing yourself from their surrounding circle. You couldn’t just readily accept their words, even if things were slowly clicking into place.

However, Wonpil had knocked on your door before sticking his head around it, offering you a blanket in case you still felt unwell. Sungjin had reminded you that you hadn’t eaten and it was growing dark out. You knew it was Jae playing the guitar and singing loudly about your denial in the office down the hall, and Dowoon had come up to look through the window more than once until you closed the curtains.

Only one respected your wishes, but you knew Brian was close. He always had been.

Twisting the handle of the door when you felt ready enough to, you peered around the threshold and found him leaning against the wall, eyes perking at your appearance. He smiled and you couldn’t help but return the gesture. His smiles had always charmed you.

“You okay?”

“As okay as someone can be after all this,” you mentioned with a shrug, stepping out into the hallway and eying him with some interest. “You know, I never knew ghosts could change their outfits. Shouldn’t you be floating around in the same clothes you … you uh-”

“Died in?” he offered and you nodded softly. Brian smirked. “I think if I had to stay in that outfit for the rest of my existence, I would be pretty annoyed. I’ve been in this house since the late eighteen-hundreds; would you really want to see me in what was the norm for me back then?”

“I don’t know, I find the Victorian era pretty fascinating.”

“Do you just,” he murmured, staring back at you. It unnerved you and for a moment you almost forgot that he wasn’t, well alive. Blinking away from his gaze, you played with the hem of your t-shirt. “You’ll have to explain more about this to me as we go.”

“You’re not going to pack up and leave? I had you pegged for running away from all of us now that you know we’re not part of the living.” You shot him a warning look and he grinned happily. “You still do that same expression after all these years.”

“What expression?”

Brian attempted to mimic what you had done and you laughed, shaking your head at him. He laughed too and then stepped closer, growing concerned again. “Are you going to sell this house?”

“Will you leave if I do?”

“This has been our home for far too long,” he mused, glancing around at the picture-laden hallway. Your grandmother had always decorated with a cluttered, homey vibe. “Should we move on?”

You didn’t know how to answer Brian’s question, though you did know some changes would have to be made around this house now.

_________________

Part 3

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