#and now for some reason i frequently wake up before the sun considers rising which also isn't ideal

[girl-detector]

hey girl detector i font rhing i can keep staygi n akwaye for 24 housr ar a timr

you shouldn't yeahg

I get how at times it's the only way to get time to yourself, but it's also something to be careful with the frequency of it so you don't just end up constantly fatigued for a while after you start fixing your sleep schedule. Like in my most frequent for it i was just constantly sore

[myrulia]

An Oiran's Sacrifice - Kokushibou x Oiran!Reader

CHAPTER 2

Oiran

Oiran (花魁) was a specific category of high ranking courtesan in Japanese history. Divided into a number of ranks within this category, oiran were considered – both in social terms and in the entertainment they provided – to be above common prostitutes, known as yūjo (遊女, lit. 'woman of pleasure')

Warning: Prostitution, strong language, gore (slightly)

Word count: 4037

Previous chapter ☆ Next chapter

`` Silence, Douma, `` was all the male had said before sheathing his sword once more into his saya. Kokushibou was not particularly pleased with being assigned with Douma to scout the village for a human that had crossed Lord Kibutsuji the wrong way. In fact the only way Kokushibou can really tolerate the Upper Moon Two is by showing his distaste towards him. Being the number one Upper Moon meant he had lots of responsibilities to carry, along with pleasing his Lord, yet those responsibilities felt merely meaningless the moment his 3 pairs of eyes landed on your human form.

Truth be told, Kokushibou cursed himself for letting the demon even see you in the first place. It was barely moon-rise when they arrived to locate the one they were after, and Douma being Douma was not giving the Upper Moon One an easy time with constantly asking questions relating to why he is usually the first Moon gone as soon as the moon is out. Of course, that wasn’t any of Douma’s business so Kokushibou ignored him per usual. `` Come On Kokushibou-dono!~ You always bully me one way or another and I will not stand it! `` 

Before Kokushibou knew it, Douma had already left with his head in his hands. Letting out a soft sigh, the demon who was now alone watched as you finally went inside, seeing as how demons could harm you one way or another since you were previously sitting on the engawa that wrapped around the large minka. The 6 eyed demon watched your retreating form return inside the estate, so he could rest easy knowing you were somewhat safe, but that was not all that Kokushibou came for. 

The demon then jumped from the branch he was hiding on, to a nearby roof in the span of a few seconds. Due to no living soul being out in the wake of the night knowing of the dangers, he could move about from rooftop to rooftop without drawing attention to himself. He traveled around the small village known as your home for quite some time, until he was on the roof of your very own minka. He disregarded the warm candle luminosity emitting from the small window, for that was what he had hoped. Kokushibou was no stranger to humans, he was once one himself. He understands the different emotions one goes through, or the sacrifices that must be made in order to live another day. 

Jumping from the top of the roof down onto the dirt pathway in front of your door, he holds one hand on the tsuka of his katana, while the other pushes open your surprisingly unlocked door. He steps inside the empty room and looks around for the man he was searching for, yet Kokushibou did not expect for your foolish father to try and attack him.

With one swift movement, your father's wrist is grabbed by a calloused and strong hand. The man felt shivers emit from his spine and move throughout his entire body, fear striking his heart. `` Who are you..! `` Your father hollered out in utter dread for his life.

`` Who I am is not of importance, `` Kokushibou stated, shoving the man backwards which made your father land on his bottom, hitting the tatami mat painfully. Taking slow strides to his cowering form beneath him, the Upper Moon unsheathed his katana, pointing the end at your father's neck. `` You, have sinned time and time again, thinking it is to save you and your daughter, but in the end, you are just as selfish as those who have riches. You will listen to what I have to say and answer any question asked. ``

The man before him merely nodded, since there was not much he could do in the situation, a demon, one that looked terrifying, approached him. Kokushibou took note of how easy your father gave in, which satisfied him so now sitting down, the Upper Moon sheaths his sword, yet keeping a firm grip on the tsuka. `` Why do you steal, Fujisaki? ``

Swallowing hard, Astuhashi answers as best as he can without feeling the urge to wet his hakama. `` I steal so I can provide for my daughter. To make sure she has clothes on her back, a roof over her hea- ``

`` Are those the only reasons that come to your mind? `` Kokushibou inquired in his usual stoic tone. It made your father scoot back slightly to regain himself, as well as to not scream in fear. `` There is no ot-other reason, I simply wish for her to have a better life than I did. ``

`` If you want that so desperately, then why do you get caught so frequently? By doing so, you put the two of you at risk of being beheaded publicly. One, because she is your offspring, and two, directly related to you. And if she somehow escapes being hanged beside you, she will live her life shamed by your neighbors. You have done nothing but dishonor your wife and daughter. ``

For once, Astuhashi had nothing to say. The demon who can easily kill and devour your father was indeed correct with his accusations. Kokushibou noted his silence and simply lowered his head, unsheathing his sword slowly. Your father heard the sound of a sharp blade brushing against the holder of the demon's katana and quickly began stammering for words. `` How can I continue to dishonor my wife if she has already passed on? M-My daughter knows very well that we will soon no longer have to live in such wa- ``

`` Your daughter will no longer have faith in you, `` Kokushibou growled out, his temper running short as the pitiful man before him was giving him no results of change, even after losing his daughter to a powerful man no less. `` You are just as pitiful as everyone makes you out to be. You are nothing but a selfish human who has no regard for how many times your daughter has humiliated herself just so you can live to see another day. Not once have you said thanks, instead you allow her to willingly give up her body for someone who sees her as a sex slave. ``

Just like before, Astuhashi had nothing else to say, but the bulging of his eyes once Kokushibou finally withdrew his sword completely, standing up from his sitting form and glaring down at your father who was cowering in fear at the thought of being killed. `` You do not deserve the amazing daughter you were blessed with. She works day in and day out for you, yet you continue to doom her future. ``

Kokushibou took slow strides towards the man beneath him, and all the while he moved closer, your father only pushed himself with his feet until his back hit the wall behind him. Now that Astuhashi had absolutely no where to run, the Upper Moon before him raised his sword, and in one swift swing, blood was splattered on the walls and tatami flooring. A shriek of pain rang through the ears of the demon who did so, yet he held no remorse, for it was his fate that was long overdue. 

Stepping away slowly, Kokushibou finally sheaths his sword once more, all the while glaring down at the vision-less man before him. The smell of blood did indeed overflood his senses, but Kokushibou knew that taking his life would affect you deeply, and that is not what he wanted for you since you already gave up your body to be nothing more than a yūjo. It was irritating that you allow yourself to be so quick to give up everything, just so your bitch of a father could live. The demon knew all too well of the emotional attachment you have, since Astuhashi was indeed your father and the only family left alive that you knew of.

Backing up even more, Kokushibou was about to open the wooden door to your singular room minka, but on the other side commotion was heard, unfortunately trying to figure out where the scream of combined pain and agony originated from. It was only a matter of time until they located the cause, so in natural reaction, Kokushibou fled from the apparent backdoor of the small household, climbing up the one story building onto the rooftop, making sure he was not seen.

Doing what he did previously before the somewhat conversation he had with Astuhashi Fujisaki, the Upper Moon One jumped around in the wake of the night from roof to roof, until he found himself in the foliage of the forest next to the Suzuki estate where he and Douma were standing together just an hour ago. His original mission was to eliminate a certain someone that Lord Kibutsuji was not pleased about, but that could wait. Kokushibou found a mission more seemingly important than that for it can be done later.

Now going back to his original stance on the branch that he had an annoying small talk with Douma, he watches a few other oirans walk along the hallways of the large minka that he had his eyes on for once reason and once reason only.

You.

But, Kokushibou could not stay for long. The sun is a natural enemy to demons and even thought it is hardly an hour and a half past sundown, he still is loyal to Lord Kibutsuji and does not want to suffer torture from the latter. `` You are quite the distraction.. `` the male said to no breathing soul in particular. 

Sighing out rather dramatically, he rubs his temples in deep concentration. On one part, he so dearly wishes to make sure you are safe and sound, and not doing anything you do not wish, but on the other, he has duties to fulfill as the Upper Moon One and not disappoint the demon lord who he owes his demon life to. Standing there, not knowing what to do, he mentally cursed himself for his next choice of actions, because he simply jumps atop of the Suzuki estate, the one he was sent to kill being inside.

Kokushibou knew that you were inside as well, which is why he dreaded the thought of you hearing the scream of bloody murder coming from a room not to far from the one you were most likely assigned. He knew just how much you have gone through in the span of 24 hours and adding on to that made the demon feel a sense of guilt. Something he has not felt in centuries.

Jumping down from the rooftop and onto a generally flat area, he steps onto the wrap around engawa and slowly pushes open a sliding door that revealed a sleeping man who he was after the entire time. Unsheathing his sword for what seemed like the millionth time that night, Kokushibou lifts his arm with the blade in hand, and as he does so, Kenta finally wakes up to his change of surroundings in utter shock. `` Who the hell are you and why are you in my house?! ``

The demon's eyes seemed to widen slightly. He did not expect such a casualty to present itself to him, but the Upper Moon simply shrugged. `` Ah, you are awake. I guess your scream will alert the others of your "unfortunate" death. ``

Kenta looked as if he was about to defy his upcoming death, but nothing could stop the strong arm that brought down an even stronger blade with it, beheading Kenta in the process. Another loud shriek rang through the ears of both Kokushibou, and anyone else nearby that was awake or not. Blood was splattered on the wall behind the lifeless body that dropped on the bloodied sheets that most likely had so many different unfortunate women in them. There was another tinge of pain in Kokushibou's undead heart as his mind wandered to your naked body sleeping with someone you did not want to. A sex hungry man no less.

That small pain lingering in his head would not go away as his mind drifted to you being forced to sleep with nothing but a boy who can not keep his dick in his hakama. It was infuriating to know that you had a high probability of already having sex with someone you did not wish to do so with. His face only scrunched up even more in disgust at the entire family and their way of living, his teeth gritting at how this was considered a "normal" life for them. Swinging his katana again, and again, and again, the demon only creates more of a bloody mess in the bedroom he already ruined by decapitation in the first place. 

By the end of it, there was nothing left but ruined silk sheets, soaked in red blood which came from the now mutilated and cut-to-pieces man in front of him. There was nothing left that looked remotely human, just brutally severed limbs and a head that rolled onto the tatami mat flooring beside the bed. Huffing out, Kokushibou takes a step back to get a clear view at what he had done, with little to no regret. His resentment towards the entire way the household runs was made apparent in the bloodied mess of a bedroom. Although, the male could not stay for long, for commotion was heard from a few rooms down from the one he was standing in. He simply assumed that the scream of death was heard, therefore he swiftly exited from the door he entered in, closing the wooden paneled door behind him and swiftly dashing away from the minka that he mercilessly killed in.

Now that the Upper Moon's mission was fully complete in the village, he had absolutely no reason to ever return unless it was specifically assigned to him.

Then why did he want to desire so badly? 

It was as if something was beckoning out to him, calling him back to the distraught village, but, Kokushibou had a strong will, and he did not want to lose his life to the sun. So, without falter, the demon continues to sprint away from the mountain-side village, his mind set on getting as far away as possible so that he can clear his mind of the small voice in the back of his head that keeps telling him to return. 

Just as the undead being was about to let out his anger through violently swinging his katana at the trees around him, he is suddenly transported back to the only place that really seemed recognizable. The Infinity Fortress. 

                     ◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Your peaceful slumber was suddenly disturbed when a masculine shout echoed throughout the entire minka. Your body jolted from the futon given to you, your head trying to adjust to your dark surroundings until a warm luminescent light was seen from the door crack that led to the hallway. Hurriedly, you got out from the futon and slid on the house slippers provided by the tayū and immediately pushed open the door, only to see multiple other bodies rush to the other side of the estate. `` What is the matter? `` You asked to a fellow oiran who stopped upon seeing your confused and still drowsy state.

`` The headmaster was mutilated, that is all that has been told, `` she replied rather gently in the hopes of calming your nerves, but you felt like your heart plummeted upon hearing the terrible news. Of course you knew Kenta was the cause of you becoming a yūjo, but the fact that he was killed in such a brutal way really hurt in a sense. Following behind the small crowd of people who wanted to truly see what was happening, you only became more curious as to what was happening. Although you did not know you were going to regret such things.

Pushing past a few people who were frozen in shock, you manage to make your way to the front of the crowd, part of it standing inside the private sleeping quarters of the former owner of the Suzuki estate. You looked around at the walls that had blood splattered all over them, the horrible sight looking even more worse than what you perceived, but nothing could have truly shocked you than the sight before you that caused a hand to practically fly towards your mouth. 

Disembodied limbs.

Limbs that belonged to brutally murdered Kenta Suzuki. Your eyes wandered to one arm split in half on the bed, to the other that was not cut in half but instead handing off the bed. His legs were still somehow on the bed as well, yet still separated from each other and bare, covered in blood along with every other body part you spotted. Yet, the most gut wrenching sight before you presented itself on the floor, being Kenta's decapitated head. His eyes were left wide open from the pure shock of the event that happened. His mouth set agape with blood still dripping out which stained the floor.

`` Oh my God… `` you uttered out in pure shock of the mess before you. It was sickening to see just how much one's hatred can turn into a blood bath. Before you could get another good look at the entire scene you backed away quickly and darted out past the crowd who could not pull their own eyes away. Your chest never faltered from rising and falling at its rapid rate, trying to process what happened in so little time. Just a few minutes ago you were sleeping somewhat peacefully, but now you felt as though you could not even close your eyes without your mind wandering to the unfortunate death of Kenta. 

`` Okay everyone, we will try to figure everything out in the morning, but for now, please try to get your rest. I understand that might not be possible since the murder of my father was indeed shocking. Please, try to sleep, `` spoke the son who you still resented, Hiroto Suzuki. It was surprising how he took some charge of the situation when he was most likely in the middle of getting his dick wet. At least he tried, is what you thought to yourself once you finally made it back to your own small quarters of a bedroom. 

Not even bothering to turn on the light, you kicked off your house slippers and practically flopped onto the futon, yawning in a desperate act to get some sleep, but you knew if you closed your eyes, you would only see a head on tatami mat flooring. 

Even though you tried so desperately to fight the urge to sleep, you found yourself already drifting off back into your slumber whether you liked it or not. Your body craved rest, and so, you finally gave in. 

                      ◆◇◆◇✧◇◆◇◆

Just as quickly as you closed your eyes, you felt them opening once more to the warm lighting of the sunrise shining through the much bigger window in comparison to the one from your old living space. Sitting up slowly, you let out a dramatic yawn and stretched out your limbs, adjusting your vision to the sunlight shining through. Even though the sun was beaming, the events last night were dreadful as your mind flashed over the gore filled memory. 

Shaking it off, you got up and opened your wardrobe that you could proudly say held your own clothes, pulling out the things required in order to fully dress yourself for what you perceived to be a long day. The process still was not engraved into your memory entirely, so you still struggled with getting the entire kimono set up in general, but got it done anyways. Moving onto your hair, you decorated your bun-styled hair with the multiple ornaments provided, making yourself look presentable. 

The make-up though, you still struggled with profusely. It took a much longer process to hide your eyebags in view of the fact that they have been forming over the years that your father has committed acts of thievery during the night, and you having to stay up in order to make sure he returns alive. 

Although, those were things of the past and no longer apart of your everyday life. You had to admit, being able to escape from such things felt like a heavy weight that was no longer on your back. You finally had breathing space despite being no more than a common prostitute, and even though that was your new reality, it made you feel pretty in a sense with how you were given such beautiful jewelry that was given for free.

`` Lotus, it is time for your first sleeping experience with Young Master Hiroto! `` 

And just like that, your peace was ruined.

Your first time having sex with someone you never would have imagined you would do it with. You originally thought you would lose your virginity to the man you love, a perfect husband in the hopes of even having a child with him. But that little childish fantasy of yours was about to be ruined the second you actually undress yourself before the eyes of Hiroto Suzuki.

Exiting your bedroom and closing the door gently, you follow Sakura who told you about your fate. She had a proud smile on her face as she began explaining the situation. `` Go in there and make me proud. I just know you will, after all, you have a beautiful body that was practically made for this. Therefore, enjoy yourself. Hiroto does have a rather enjoyable cock..~ ``

It seemed as though Sakura was trying to make you feel better with the playful tone she used, but telling by your tired and more serious face she could tell that you were obviously not too pleased about the whole thing, so she clears her throat and stops in front of large double doors. `` Well this is it, Goodluck and at least try to enjoy yourself. I know this is not what you imagined your first time would be like, but, this is how it must be. So please, try not to upset him. ``

You only nodded your head since you did not have much so say about your fate. It was saddening really to know that this is out of your control, but you chose this path yourself. Opening the double doors, you step inside to see a fully bare man laying on his futon who looked as if he was waiting on you. You perceived that to be true with the way he leaned back on his shoulders and looked you up and down without shame. `` Well hello Lotus. ``

`` Hello, `` was all you said. You did not have much to say to Hiroto, because deep down you were still upset and you being you, decided to make that apparent. `` Aww come on..~ Not excited to help me get rid of that memory from last night? My dear old dad dying? ``

`` If you are going to use that as an excuse to have sex with me and make me enjoy it, you are certainly wrong. `` Even though Hiroto could quickly have you killed. You still wanted a shred of your dignity left because you at least know your self worth. `` I am here for the sake of my father, and if I have to have sex with someone who only thinks of sex, then so be it. `` 

Hiroto had nothing to say, and so since he did not, the male pulls you into his futon directly on top of his naked body. You could feel his shaft press against your stomach so you shuddered at the thought. Getting up slowly, you simply roll your eyes and begin to undress yourself until a pale hand came to grab your wrist. `` Let me undress you instead~ ``

And so, that is what you let him do. His hands did not know where to start until you guided him to the proper area where he could strip you with ease. In the middle of him beginning to untie the large bow on your lower abdomen, the wooden doors are pushed open abruptly. 

`` Young Master Hiroto, I apologize for interrupting your private time with Lotus, but she is needed at the moment. Something terrible has happened. ``

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

[kkairosclerosis]

uncommon things i associate my deities with~

hi guys! im back from a quick hiatus! 

i recently moved to the city, but not too far from where i lived previously in the country. living in the city, however, is proving to be a bit more difficult then i had imagined, so ive been taking some weekends to go back home and ground myself again so i can feel more connected to my craft<3.

anyways, this morning, i was sitting on the porch of my parents farmhouse, looking out onto the sunset as my idiot dog ran laps around the frost-covered lawn, feeling more connected to my deities than i had in weeks. i decided, ‘hey, here a nice post idea. maybe ill talk abt the things i associate with my deities that others might not, and hopefully inspire them to as well!’ so, here it is! 

uncommon things i associate my deities with!

hermes——««

if this isnt your first time on my blog, you probably know: hermes is my patron. he has been for a while, even before i began to worship him. if you want to know more about why, check out this post. 

regardless, you can imagine that i hold very dear everything i associate with him.

in this case, it’s my dog. 

my dog is an...interesting border collie named oliver. i got into hellenic worship very shortly after getting him, and i have a very strong feeling he has a lot to do with it. 

i am thoroughly convinced my dog is a child of hermes. hes chaotic, but extremely smart. very, very fast, and spends hours running out in the yard. just running. nothing else. its even more intense when its windy, which, if you read the aforementioned post, you know that i associate the wind heavily with hermes. hermes is also the god of animal husbandry, and oliver is quite the farm animal. 

watching him run, i always get a strong sense of comfort. i know that the energy of hermes resides in him, its very clear. its almost as if his running brings the wind.  like hes running, and hermes says ‘hey, that looks fun! let me join!’ 

i, very regularly, ask for hermes protection of oliver. i do this because i know of the love hermes has for him. i can feel it. it makes me comfortable knowing hes safe while im not home with him. and i can tell it makes oliver feel safe as well.

aphrodite——««

aphrodite has always been dear to me, even before i started actually worshipping. i remember reading about her in the mythology books i frequented in the art room after i finished my projects, carrying them out to the field to just sit and read. she was an embodiment of beauty to me, and that has not changed since, so its natural that i associate her with one of the things i find most beautiful on this plane of existence: clouds.

when i was thinking of writing this post, i was sitting and looking at a cloudless sky. i was thinking: why is it that we most often consider a cloudless sky beautiful? is it because of the absence of ‘blemish?’ does a cloud signify a flaw? must all beautiful things be completely clear, or without mark? 

obviously, i thought this was ridiculous. clouds are so very dear to me. i mean, i have an entire album of photos on my phone of pictures of clouds i have taken. i have always been enamored. 

while i was pondering this, it hit me. beauty is unique. beauty is individual. thats exactly what aphrodite is about. these ‘marks’ in the sky are what make the sky beautiful to me. aphrodite is in these ‘blemishes’ because i find them beautiful. 

now, i dont mean to wrap this up in a corny way, but i encourage the people reading this to think this way about themselves. beauty is in your imperfections because they make you you. i have not seen one cloud that looks exactly like another i have seen, and thats exactly what makes them so beautiful to me. aphrodite loves all of you, and someone else does as well, so do not disrespect them by being mean to yourself. their idea of beauty is not misconstrued, so trust them. and if you dont think someone thinks your beautiful, know that i do<3.

apollo——««

apollo, to me, has always been sort of an enigma. i have a harder time interpreting his signs, especially recently, and i think that its particularly because of my recent falling out with my creative side. i have sort of abandoned my art, and it think its difficult for him to communicate with me through anything else.

one thing, however, i can feel him in is the sound of the birds in the morning. particularly, roosters.

as i mentioned before, my parents live on a farm. its natural to hear roosters first thing in the morning. some people find it annoying, but to me, its incredibly comforting. it means another morning has come. i’ve lived another day, and i have a whole new one to look forward to, until i hear the rooster the next morning. it means the sun is rising, and apollo rises with him. 

as a witch who particularly enjoys the sunrise, but has a hard time waking up to see it, the roosters serve as a sort of natural alarm clock. even if i do not physically get up to see the sunrise, i know it is happening, and i am awake for that first moment of dawn. it brings me comfort and a sense of small accomplishment, even on really difficult days.

and the days im in the city, and cant hear the roosters, its the morning songs of the birds in the part right next to my apartment building. this might be even more so, as apollo is the god of music. 

its a different type of comfort to wake up to the chill of the morning and hear the birds, knowing its a deity that loves me and wants to see me the next morning as well. i hope you, dearest reader, come to feel the same:).

asclepius——««

now, i haven’t talked about this much on this blog, but to me, asclepius has been such a pillar for me as of recent. with the pandemic and my own current health situation, i rely on him a lot for hope and support. i ask him to protect both me and my friends and family from illness or ailment, and in case of ailment, i ask him to facilitate a speedy recovery. thus far, he has never failed me, and i do not ever expect him to. i put my trust in him wholly. 

other than health, i find myself associating asclepius with cleanliness. while i see asclepius as the medic, i also see him as someone who is clean and organized. this is why i associate him with dewdrops.

now, bear with me in my explanation. morning dew, to me, feels clean. it feels almost pure, as it is one of the first forms of moisture a person can be met with during the day. 

picture it now. you wake up at sunrise, and venture out into your yard, the chill of the am just tickling at your face, cooling your nose to the touch. you take your first step off of the deck, and your bare feet sink into the grass, cold, and now wet from the dew. the feeling is shocking at first, as your feet get used to the new temperature, fresh out of the warm comfort of your blanket that sits invitingly on your bed inside. 

but the feeling is fresh. its grounding. its healing. 

that, to me, is how asclepius feels. 

sobek——««

i must be honest, sobek is the reason this post came to existence. i feel extremely strong about this one, particularly because i feel that sobek is under-appreciated and misunderstood as a god. i constantly encourage people to include sobek in their worship, as he, to me, has proven to be one of the most reliable gods i have ever worked with. i feel such a sense of comfort and love within him. i could sit in his energy for hours, days even. especially as a person who suffers from bouts of paranoia, his energy is one to learn to accept and become. 

for me, i see sobek in flowers. 

not many would see this, as sobek has this image of a tough, crocodile, protection god, which he is. but what a lot of people forget, is that sobek is also a god of fertility, particularly in harvest. in fact, sobek has done so much for my family’s farm. our garden is plentiful, and our harvests are more than we know what to do with. we end up making a lot of extra things with it, and giving it away to family friends and neighbors. i genuinely think that sobek creates abundance in our garden so he can give to our community. that is how loving i know him to be. 

however, what i specified was flowers. one of the most common offerings i give to sobek are roses. he seems to love them. sobek seems to protect that of which he loves, and roses are a symbol of love for me. i want to attempt to give him what he has given me. 

my family has a wildflower garden in front of our home. the morning i was sitting on the porch, i felt his presence, and i immediately looked to the flowers. delicate, yet extremely strong, and persevering. thats how i wish to be, and i can feel sobek in the encouragement of the flowers. 

i hope that didn’t come off too corny, although im pretty sure it did lol. i hope that this post was a good insight into my deities and how i understand them to be! again, disclaimer, not everyone experiences the gods in the same ways! some may agree with this post wholeheartedly, and some may have completely different experiences that make them disagree entirely! i am not one to gatekeep and define what the divine is, because the divine shows itself in different ways to different people. i hope you enjoyed this post, and have a wonderful day!

p.s. i love you and you’re worth it!

[writingtoforgetreality]

I thought he could help us (Dean Winchester x Reader)

[Supernatural-Masterlist]

Summary: You were sure that you guys will never be able to beat Chuck, or better said, God. After literally trying everything, an idea popped into your head. Of course you would not tell anyone, knowing the guys, especially Dean, would freak out. So you did what you thought was right: sneaking out one night to go & talk to Chuck.

Words: 2,872

Warnings: angst, language, Chuck being Chuck, protective Dean, mentions of cheating, fluffy ending bc I can´t write a heartbreaking story

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

You should all be happy right now. Everything you had ever wanted was right in front of you. Dean, the best boyfriend you could have ever imagined. Sam, who was like a big brother to you. Cas, the awkward friend you had never wanted but also somehow craved. Last but not least, Jack, who you would die for in a heartbeat. Being hunters had never been easy. The supernatural beings that lived in the dark corners always haunting you but you learned to fight them. They were scared of your badass team, not the other way round. So why, why the hell did Chuck have to make life so much harder for you? A few years ago, you all got together to fight Amara only to find out now that he had everything planned out for you guys. How fucked up could one being be? And how fucked up was it that this being was the God out of everyone?

“This is useless!” you breathed out.

The entire team was seated in the library, desperate to find something, anything slightly helpful. This was how your days looked like if you did not have a case. Just sitting around the big ass table, reading lore & hoping you would find a clue how to defeat God. Defeat God...was that even possible? Right now, you were not so sure but you could not stop now. Not after everything you had been through. This should be easy, right?

“(Y/N)…“ Sam sighed. “We´ve been through this, haven´t we?“ he tried reasoning.

“Well, apparently this entire thing doesn´t help one bit. I don´t understand how you guys can just sit there & do the same shit over & over again. We´re fucked, okay? The sooner we realize this, the better.“ you started growing frustrated.

“Sweetheart…” Dean started speaking up.

“No, Dean! I´m tired. Clearly, reading books for days is not the answer. We need to start thinking outta the box, y´know?” you were hinting your idea but not daring to speak it out loud. They would kill you, for sure. Or ask if you were insane. How could you not in this situation.

“Out of the box...Means what exactly?” Dean looked at you in confusion, obviously not knowing what you were truly saying.

“Look, (Y/N), we have three hunters, a nephilim who is stronger than everything I´ve ever seen & an angel.” this was Cas´ voice that made you look up to him.

“We can do this together, (Y/N), I´m sure!” the confidence in Jack´s voice made you smile slightly. He sure was a little naive but he just wanted to keep the team positive which was cute, really.

“You know what, guys? I need a little break. You do, too. Let´s just stop for today, clear our heads & start again tomorrow. Now, how does that sound?” you faked a smile, unaware to the others. You had become quite trained in faking emotions. That came with being a hunter, you guessed.

The others nodded at you, closed their books & made their way out of the library.

It was 10 pm when you checked the time. As far as you could tell, the entire bunker was asleep, which was good considering the thing you were about to do. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Dean sleeping soundly. Ever since the two of you had started sleeping in one bed, the nightmares were not as frequent anymore. You silently made your way out of your shared room, only taking your phone with you. A few hours prior, you had already prepared an outfit & placed it in the garage. This way, you would not wake anybody. Still, while walking down the halls, you tried to be as quiet as possible, making sure nobody was up & wandering in the bunker. Arriving at the garage, you let out a breath you did not know you were holding. You started thinking now. Was this really the right decision? Everyone else would have said that you were about to commit suicide. On the other hand, you did not really have a choice. If you did not do this, you would die anyway. There was nothing left to lose. Stripping out of your oversized t-shirt you once stole from Dean, you imagined to conversation you were about to have. Then you stopped for a second. What if he decided not to show up at all? He was not able to track you guys, thanks to Cas who burned some sort of marks into your ribs. Throwing on your outfit, you knew you had to give it a try. Just telling him your coordinates, in a prayer, of course. He had to show up. Before the overthinking got the best of you, you tucked your phone in one of your pockets & made your way outside in the chilly air. Due to the adrenaline you felt, you could barely feel the coldness hitting your skin.

After a while of walking, a park bench came into your view. Right at a crossroad. You had never been there but that was what you wanted to achieve. Being as far away from your family as possible. There was not a single car which somehow comforted & scared you at the same time. Seating yourself onto one side of the bench, you fiddled with your hands in your lap. A few deep breaths steadied you & after a couple of minutes, you were sure that you were ready. It was now or never.

“Um...hi, God...Chuck, I mean. Here´s (Y/N), you know, the one who´s with the Winchesters & stuff. I know you can hear me & you´re probably asking yourself why the hell I decided to pray to you. Funny enough, I´m sorta lost. We are, actually. I know you could kill me if I give you my location now but honestly, I don´t really care right now. Look, I just wanna talk, okay? I´m alone here, it´s just me & I hope you are open to talk to me here, Collar Road 16. I´ll be here until the sun starts to rise. If you don´t show up, okay, that´s fine but I would really appreciate it if you decide to come. I´ll be here.” your voice was low, scared that someone would hear you even though you were completely alone. Checking your phone, you had no new notifications. Perfect, you managed to sneak out. It was Chuck´s turn now. The sunrise was hours away so you hoped he would come & talk to you (& not kill you, that would be nice).

Seconds turned into minutes & minutes into hours. You started losing hope. How dumb were you to think God wanted to talk to you when you were literally trying to find a way to kill him?

“Kinda dangerous for you to be here alone, without your boyfriend to protect you, don´t you think?” Chuck´s voice startled you & you looked at him in surprise. Not wanting him to sense your nervousness, you cleared your throat & straightened your posture.

“I can handle myself, thanks for your concern.” smirking at him, his eyes bored into you which sent a shiver down your spine. You felt so uncomfortable under his presence that you almost forgot the reason you two were here.

“Attitude, I see.” he chuckled.

“You were busy, huh? Letting me wait for so long.”

“Actually, no. Just wanted to test your patience.” Chuck had so much fun & your anger started to rise. You knew though, that one wrong word could have you killed so you took a deep breath.

“I wanna talk to you.” you stated the obvious.

“I figured that much. So? Go ahead.” Chuck turned so his body was facing you, signaling you that he was paying attention to what you wanted to get off your chest.

“I´m pretty sure you know about our little...plan to, well, you know...stop you?” the last part came more out as a question, not wanting to cross any lines. He was God after all. He raised his eyebrows, motioning for you to continue.

“I´m not gonna lie, we didn´t find shit, okay? Like, we´re stuck. And I hate the fact that we´re at a point where almost everyone thinks the only solution is to fight each other. Yeah, I don´t agree with everything you did but that doesn´t mean that I´d like to kill you. You´re God, after all, you created this beautiful place which does have flaws, I´m not gonna deny that.” Chuck let out a laugh at that & you kept going.

“I´m tired of keeping this fight up. Hunting the supernatural, I´m fine with, I can deal with that but fighting against you? That´s something I really don´t wanna do.” you rambled. Even tears started forming, you did not want to cry in front of him but you could not hold back any longer.

“Who knows you´re here, talking to me?” he completely ignored everything you just said & earned a confused look from you.

“Really? That´s what matters? Nobody, okay? I didn´t tell anyone because I knew they would try to stop me somehow. Could you, like, give me any reaction to what I told you?” the frustration was audible & the tears now were forming because of his ignorance.

“(Y/N).” he started. “I hope you know that, out of all of them, I like you the most. That´s why I came here, that´s why I let you talk. Would Sam or Dean sit here, I´d kill them, well, obviously making it look like an accident, I´m not dumb. You´re special, (Y/N), you should be grateful you´re still alive. I´ll give you a choice. Either, you start working with me & you´ll see why I act that way or...you´re going back to your boys & we´re officially at war. Just know, if you walk away now, I won´t be as kind. Your decision, darling.” he shot you a smile but stopped when he saw the rage inside your eyes. He thought you would join him, he really did. You knew your answer, though.

“Fuck. You. You. Asshole.” your voice sounded monotone. You could not look at him anymore, all you did was getting up & running away as fast as possible, scared that he might follow you. Obviously, he did not. You made your choice & even though he was mad at you, he knew preparing for the fight was a better idea.

While you were running, the tears streamed down your face. Why were you so upset with Chuck´s answer? It was not like you did not know him & his intentions. You just truly thought you could change him. The sun had already started rising & you just hoped you were not too late. You were not in the mood to come up with a lie when someone of the guys asked you where you were. Forgetting you should enter through the garage because it was way more quiet, you opened the main door, flinching when it squeaked. But before you could even process that, you could hear a rather mad voice from downstairs.

“Look who decided to show up.” Dean sounded so cold, you could barely recognize his voice. Looking down, you saw Sam, Dean, Cas & Jack all seated around the big table in the main room. Shit, you were gone too long. Of course, your day could get worse, amazing.

“Guys, I can explain, I swear.” honestly, you just wanted to win time to think of a lie to tell them.

“Cut the crap, (Y/N)!” Dean almost screamed. “Get down. Now.” his voice was demanding. To be honest, you were never scared of Dean but right now, you could feel yourself shaking.

“Dean, calm down, okay? Let´s talk about it like matures.” Sam always made sure you felt comfortable & right now, he could tell you were frightened.

“Calm down?! Sure, everyone would be completely calm if their girlfriend sneaks out at night & screws another man.”

“Dean? Are you saying I´m cheating on you? Are you serious? After everything you still don´t trust me?” you were full on sobbing, trying to keep yourself together but failing miserably.

“I wish I could say I trust you but it makes sense, really. You being so distant lately & now, sneaking out in the middle of the night, hoping none of us realizes. You´ve got to be a bit smarter, though.” Dean was hurting but he did not dare to show it, wanting you to feel bad.

“(Y/N)? You do owe us an explanation.” Cas´ voice was calm & made you feel a bit more at ease.

“Maybe she should just go back to whoever she was fucking, that´s better for all of us.” Dean said these hurtful words without even looking at you. He hated seeing you break down like that. You were taken aback. Dean, your Dean, wanted you to leave. This was all a big misunderstanding. As much as you hated it, you knew you had to clear things up. If you were about to leave, then at least with making sure Dean knew you were not cheating on him.

“Please...let me explain, please.” pleading, you looked over to Jack but he would not meet your gaze. Your eyes wandered off to Sam´s & he was the most understanding in this situation which you were thankful for.

“Sit down, yeah?” Sam pulled a chair out for you to sit. The others took the chairs opposite of you so you were facing them all. Well, not all, Dean´s eyes were glued to the floor & you could not even be mad at him. You were aware of his trust issues, of course.

“I´ve been distant because we were continuing a work that brought us nowhere. I tried figuring out what we could do to...to keep this upcoming fight away. I knew the only way was to talk to…um, you know, to talk to God.” that made Dean snap his eyes towards you. No, you did not. You looked into his eyes, seeing the disappointment & that hurt you like crazy.

“Um, anyway, I waited until you guys were asleep to go out & talk to him. Obviously far, far away from the bunker, I didn´t wanna bring you guys in danger.” while you said that you made sure to look rigt at Dean so he knew you were mainly talking about him.

“He showed up after I prayed to him. We talked, well, more like I tried to convince him to stop this stupid fight. All he said was that I could join him & work with him or I go back to you guys & the next time he sees us...he´ll kill me, us. Then I started running back home, he didn´t follow me if you´re concerned about that.” you hated how your voice shook trough your words. You were met with a silence but not a bad silence, the faces of Sam, Cas & Jack were full of relief. Mainly because you were alright but also because they knew you just wanted to help. Dean´s expression, on the other hand, you could not quite read.

“We´ll leave you two alone for now.” & with that Sam got up & rubbed your back. He motioned for Cas & Jack to follow him. Now, you were left with Dean only. Not knowing what to do, you decided to speak up.

“I´m sorry, De-.” but you were cut off by his voice, now much softer as earlier.

“He could´ve killed you, sweetheart. He could´ve killed you & I wouldn´t even have had a chance to say goodbye. The thought of losing you scares the shit out of me, okay?” Dean´s eyes were glistening & you felt bad that you were the reason why he felt that way.

“I´m so so sorry. I shouldn´t have done this, I know. I just...I didn´t know another way. I thought we had a chance if I go talk to him. I was wrong & I´m sorry I scared you. And I´m even more sorry that you thought I´d be cheating on you. I love you, Dean. Only you. Forever, I promise.” a few tears rolled down your cheeks & Dean got up, walked over to you & took you in for a long hug. You cried into his shirt, just glad he was with you.

“I know why you did it, I do. You always want to make it easier for us & I appreciate it. Just, next time you have such an idea, promise me you tell us, me at least. Then we can work something out, together, something way safer, okay? Just promise me.” he whispered into your ear, his words carefully chosen, wanting to make sure you knew how much he felt for you.

“I promise, Dean.” you looked up at him only to find his eyes already focused on you.

“I love you, (Y/N).” & with that, he pulled you in for a kiss that showed you how much he cared for you. Maybe you could not convince God but you had the best people & you were sure you would figure something out sooner or later.

Published (06/24/2020) by Cathy

[visionsofus]

For your songfic, may I suggest Heart of Stone (Six)? Not all the lyrics are applicable, bc neither Wanda or Vision are Henry VIII (thank god lol), but the steadfast and enduring love and devotion that drives the song seems especially pertinent given that finale 😭. Or Simply the Best by Tina Turner? ❤️

hey anon! thank you so much for your requests ❤️

I’ve finished The Best by Tina Turner but I’m still working on the Heart of Stone prompt (please bear with me while I tear my heart out and put it back together because I wanna do the prompt justice) 

please enjoy!

wanda and vision’s mixtape | read this part on AO3 

synopsis: In which Wanda searches Edinburgh for Vision after she arrives late at their safehouse. When she discovers his energy signature floating around the city, she decides to follow the threads to their source. Along the journey she recalls the complications of their long-distance, secretive relationship but by the end recalls exactly why they sacrifice so much to be together.

Wanda was frantic as she hurried out of the airport. She’d been anticipating this trip for a month, her heart set on the two weeks Vision had managed to buy away from the compound. She’d planned out all the details to make sure she was on the right flight, that her fake passport was in order and that Nat was aware of her location if something went terribly wrong. Even her status as a fugitive was relatively under control thanks to some false information she’d planted over in Ohio last month. She’d left behind a trail of misleading clues that the Secretary of State and his team were lapping up eagerly, thinking they were getting closer to her capture for the first time in eighteen months.

Instead, here Wanda was halfway across the world having just landed at Edinburgh airport.

No matter how much she had planned things out, no matter the scope of her powers, nothing could have stopped the wave of snowfall that the UK had received in the last few days, coming to a head the previous night. She’d timed her flight to arrive, as they’d agreed, at 9pm at a predetermined destination in the city. To her dismay she’d found herself on a crowded red eye flight that had left 6 hours later when the runway had to be cleared of snow.

The worst part was that she’d had to sit there for those hours that dragged on for an eternity, knowing that at that very moment Vision would be waiting at the airbnb they’d rented out, alone. Wanda had no way to contact him, not with such short notice. Technology was too easy to track but it didn’t stop her longing to go and buy a cheap international sim from the technology stand at the airport and use it to just send one message. At this inclination Natasha’s voice had rung out in Wanda’s head, ‘the next time they catch you it’s as a war criminal, don’t give them a reason to decide you’re better off dead than locked up’.

  So it wasn’t worth the risk but it didn’t stop the sick feeling that grew in her stomach as she waited nervously to be let through passport control, then at the taxi stand and finally on the doorstep of the flat they had booked just off West Port.

It was early morning by the time she arrived, but the wintery sky was still hazy with the night’s darkness so she hoped that Vision might be waiting inside. The key box, which they’d been given a code to open from the host, was empty which further confirmed this conclusion. She rang the doorbell twice and waited. And waited and waited some more. There was no answer.

Wanda looked at the houses around her, streetlights reflecting their orange glows off of second story windowpanes. There were few lights on inside at this time of morning, but she still needed to be careful.

Leaving her only piece of luggage, a small carry-on bag that held the bare essentials of what she kept with her at all times these days, she looked up to the windows above her. Perhaps one of them would be open.

Wanda took a deep breath and let her power grow in her palms, red mist arcing out to push her from the ground. Her ascent was controlled and slow and she reached the windowsill with ease. It was just wide enough for her to grasp the waterpipe next to it and rest her feet on the sill. She froze when a light switched on next door and what sounded like a radio began to play, rather loudly considering the time of day. She used the music (it sounded like Tina Turner but she couldn’t be certain) to hide the distinct click that sounded from the window as she forced the lock open with her powers. Inside was quiet, all the lights were off, and Vision was not there.

“Vis?” Wanda called out nonetheless.

If he wasn’t here were could he be? Their general rule of thumb was that if one of them couldn’t make it to the predetermined location they had to wait 24 hours given it was safe to do so. It stood to reason that he’d follow the protocol this time, particularly given how long they were due to spend in Edinburgh and the months it had taken to concoct a believable excuse for why Vision wasn’t going to be in America.

Wanda returned to the window quickly and looked out over the limited view it gave of Edinburgh city and the castle rising up behind, providing a somewhat medieval backdrop. She raised her fingers to her forehead and took in her surroundings, focusing on the sound of early morning commuters from the main street, the sound of a ticking clock at her back, a car door closing down the road, and beyond it all she felt for Vision. Wanda hadn’t used the telepathic dimension of her powers in a while, or at least not as much as she had used to. They were a little rusty, making it hard to pinpoint precisely where Vision was but, when she opened her eyes something similar to an energy field could be seen gracing the cityscape before her. Certain structures stood out to her, outlined in a golden haze that couldn’t be anything but the mind stone calling to her.

Without hesitating Wanda vaulted out the window and hit the pavement below, her powers softening the landing. A flick of her hand sent her bag flying up through the open window.

Wanda grinned in anticipation and set off in the direction of the nearest golden glow, her boots hitting the cobbled streets one after the other. It had been freezing when she landed but as she ran through the slowly waking streets of Edinburgh Wanda removed her scarf and let it trail behind her.

The sun had not yet crested the horizon, but its light was turning the sky a nice lilac colour highlighted by the grey expanses of cloud hanging over the city. She briefly wondered whether it might snow today or if it was going to be too cold.

As Wanda rounded the corner onto the main street she nearly lost her footing on a stretch of dangerous black ice on the pavement only just catching herself on a nearby bus bench. She’d reached the first place Vision’s energy signature was calling her to, a small café down a wynd bordered on both sides by the back walls of town houses. The interior of the store was dark but a soft light glowed at the back where Wanda assumed the bakers had started their morning preparing the delicate pastries the café was known for.  

Wanda walked up to the window and looked at the ground where a strong outline of gold was hovering just above the icy cobble stones. Vision had been here recently, but he hadn’t gone inside, he’d just stood in the exact space she now hesitated at. They hadn’t had plans to meet here but it was a place they frequented any time they met up this side of the world.

Beyond the dark glass a few inches from her nose Wanda could see the cozy window seat that had become their spot. The café opened early and closed late at night so the pair had become frequent patrons what with Wanda sometimes kept up by recurring nightmares from her childhood and Vision who refused to let her be alone in those darkest hours.

Wanda’s fingertips brushed against the cold glass, leaving little prints in their wake at the tenderness of those memories, of her leaning against Vision, her hands clutching a warm cup while his arms encircled her waist. They’d sit there until the late hours when the store finally closed often talking about the other patrons in hushed tones. The students nursing late night coffees as they sat before computers, the lonely ones in new cities come to reclaim some control over the evening hours and, like them, the other insomniacs all drawn to the same place in this historic city. The conversation inevitably turned to their future and Wanda enjoyed thinking up ridiculous scenarios where they had a house in suburbia and didn’t have to run from anyone anymore. Things stayed lighthearted until they both grew too invested in the imaginary life they were discussing and returned back to wherever they were staying.

Wanda looked skywards again in the lightening morning and caught site of threads of gold leading her further down the street.

A mere block away was the only bookstore that stayed open 24 hours in the city. Some nights when the café had closed for the evening they had come here. The bell jangled, sharp in the serene silence of the store, as Wanda entered the maze-like stacks. Her fingers tingled in response to the energy signature that Vision had left here and she followed it to the back of the store which housed a few comfy armchairs and a long couch that they’d often set themselves up in for the night.

She could see it now as Vision’s energy shifted around her, as though it was responding to her presence. Could see him sitting across from her in her minds eye, a memory tucked away for safe keeping of when they’d last been in Edinburgh. He’d sat reading a book of poetry that he’d found amongst the stacks, his hands running gently across worn pages as he took in each word. She’d been perched at the other end of the couch, legs tucked beneath her and a sketch book resting on her knees as her pencil arced across the page creating the basis of his form, the curve of his shoulders, bend of his elbow, his legs crossed at the heal as he relaxed. Every now and then he’d glance up and she’d tilt the sketch away form his watchful eyes with a smile, or he’d take the moment to read out a particularly beautiful piece of poetry from the collection he was perusing.

Wanda had picked up drawing in the aftermath of the events in Sokovia and had been encouraged by Steve and Nat who had acted as her caretakers in those first few weeks after arriving in America. It had started as a simple activity to quiet her mind and draw what was happening within her, the first drawings hadn’t been good in skill or message, they’d started out dark. Vision didn’t know it, but she’d been drawing him for years, fascinated by trying to capture the feeling in his eyes or the gentle grace of his movement. Most of all this act of creation served to remind her that her hands could create beautiful things too, it didn’t all have to be death and destruction.

Wanda started as the energy rolled around her ankles before arcing back to the door. So, he wasn’t here either.

Out on the street gold threads guided her further up towards Edinburgh castle, the energy was growing stronger, and Wanda ran faster no longer just concerned about where Vision was but whether he was worried by her absence.

A small thread of energy darted off to the side and was so imperceptible that Wanda almost missed it. It was so weak that she knew there was no chance he’d be there but nonetheless she slowed down to a stop in front of a small newspaper stand that was being set up for the day. It was one of those metal domes that folded out to reveal the magazines and papers within. The elderly gentleman behind the counter gave her a warm smile as Wanda turned to the magazines, the cogs in her brain turning.

Of course he’d tried to stop here. Before they had brought Natasha into the picture, Wanda had communicated with Vision through the missed connections pages of local newspapers and gossip magazines. They’d leave each other a note, usually encoded so only they would understand it, detailing a time and place for their next meeting or what magazine they were going to put their next message in. In hindsight Wanda smiled at the memory but at the time she had been something of a mess. She’d come to rely on Vision for so much in the year they had spent living together, their first home. Being torn away from each other the way they were had been difficult, and the challenge of meeting each other in safe places for both of them had weighed down their evolving relationship. She wondered what might have happened if they’d been given the time they needed.

The owner of the stand was twirling the dial of a small radio moving from static to static until he found the radio station he wanted. To Wanda’s surprise, it was Tina Turner once more:

Each time you leave me I start losing control.

You’re walking away with my heart and my soul.

Wanda realised she was wasting time and hurriedly thanked the man before turning on her heel and starting down the street again. From here the incline grew but she hung onto the knowledge that when she eventually reached the thread’s end, Vision would be there waiting for her. Another lyric from Tina Turner’s song fluttered around her head as her chest burned from the running.

I can feel you even when I’m alone.

It was true that she always carried him with her when they were apart, but it was never the same as being with him in person. Nothing could beat that.

Wanda hadn’t realised but, whether from the intensity of the moment, or the cold, little tears had started to trickle down her face, blow away by the brisk wind.

The energy was growing stronger.

In your heart I see the star of every night and every day.

She ran faster, leaping up some steps two at a time and spinning around the corner.

In your eyes I get lost.

The gates to the public entrance to the castle tour were yet to open but Wanda wasn’t about to let a bit of steel stop her from getting to where Vision was. She did a quick 360 to make sure that she was alone before pushing off the ground with her feet and a jolt of power. She was up on the nearest rooftop and past the entrance in moments. Running around corners and up steps she felt like the threads were pulling her up towards him. She finally reached the top section of the castle – the battlements.

Just as long as I’m here in your arms

That was when she caught sight of him, the energy grew stronger until it was so bright, she might as well have been looking at the sun. For one horrifying moment as she waited for the light to clear she feared she had imagined it all. As fear seized her heart, she slowed down a bit, gasping a little at the exertion.

I could be in no better place

There he was, looking out over Edinburgh’s fading night lights in the early morning. He turned around in surprise, immediately glamouring his appearance before he caught sight of who was there.

“Wanda,” he whispered, the illusion dropping instantaneously as she stepped towards him.

“I’m sorry,” she said so quietly that she was worried he might not hear her, “my flight got cancelled.”

He reached her in a few large strides and wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her close to him. Wanda led out a shaky breath that was somewhere between a sigh of relief and a sob she’d been holding in since that morning. She buried her face in his shoulder relishing in having him here before her at last.

“I know, I know,” he whispered into her hair. “I figured you’d been held up with all the cancelled flights from Heathrow.”

They held each other for a few moments longer, swaying back and forth a little.

“How did you know where I was?” Vision asked pulling back a bit and brushing Wanda’s hair over her shoulder so he could cup her cheek, his eyes searching her face as though not quite believing that she was here, before him.

“I’d always find you,” Wanda said before laughing softly, “I can feel you even when I am alone.”

Vision tilted his head at the abrupt change in her tone, but Wanda couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to be happy as she stood there, atop Edinburgh castle in his arms halfway around the world from all of their problems.

“Well, I’m glad you found me.”

They stood there watching the sun rise, colouring the clouds in soft hues of lilac and lavender. Vision sighed in contentment, his chin resting on her shoulder from where he stood at her back, arms wrapped around her and holding him warmly to him. It wasn’t until sounds of the morning rush in the city below began to reach them that Wanda pulled away to look at him.

“I don’t suppose you’d mind if we spend the day in bed? I need to sleep off last night’s flight and recover a bit,”

“Of course not, my love,” he said raising her hand and kissing it. “You rest, I’ll pop out to get something for you for breakfast.”

Wanda sighed in happiness as they started to walk down the hill together. “I got lucky y’know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I have my perfect synthezoid partner willing to go and get me breakfast in bed despite the fact that I basically stood him up.”

Vision chuckled, swinging their hands back and forth together. “Not quite what happened, but I suppose you could say I am simply the best,” he said nonchalantly waving a hand.

“You caught me! You should have told me you knew the song before I tried to use it as a romantic line,” Wanda mockingly scolded.

“I’ll always catch you,” Vision replied, pulling her closer as they emerged after the eventful night into the city welcoming them home together at last.  

[taboofables]

CP2077 OC ask game *:･ﾟ✧⚔️🤖🔮 [x]

PERSONAL.

1. what is their full name? do they have any nicknames? what are they and why did they get them? Vincent Laszlo Toth. Everyone just calls him V because he doesn’t like getting too personal. But if he feels comfortable around you he prefers to be called Laszlo. He’ll tell you himself  

2. how old are they? how long have they been living on their own? 28 as of 2077. He’s been living on his own for 10 years since he joined Arasaka

3. what are their astrology signs? sun/moon/rising. He was born on June 10th 2049, which makes him a sun Gemini, moon Libra and ascendant Virgo 

4. what tarot card from the major arcana would you associate with them? The Fool, the Hanged Man, Death

5. are they religious or spiritual in any way? Neither but his experience made him think of many things and he’s coming to a sort of spirituality in his own way 

6. which of the four elements would you associate with them? Fire for his inner strength and transformation through action 

9. which of the nine alignments are they? (lawful good etc) Chaotic neutral 

10. which of the myers-briggs personality types are they? ESTP

11. do they have any cyberware? is it cosmetic or is it weaponry/armor? Circulatory system: Second heart; Frontal cortex: Ex-Disk; Arms: Projectile launch system; Ocular system: Kiroshi optics; Cyberdeck: NetWatch Netdiver Mk.5; Integumentary system: Subdermal armor; Skeleton: Titanium bones, Bionic lungs; Legs: Fortified ankles 

12. what is their occupation? Arasaka’s personal lapdog? He’s not sure yet because he does a bit of everything but his competence in weaponry and hacking earned him a good score in the eyes of Saburo and Hanako Arasaka themselves. Sorry Goro & Oda 

13. if you were to choose a class for them, what would it be? Combat netrunner

14. what is their weapon of choice? M-179 Achilles precision rifle, Malorian Arms 3516 gun

15. what is their preferred vehicle or transportation of choice? Villefort Cortes Delamain no.21 & Yaiba Kusanagi CT-3X.  Depends on his mood and how fast he needs to arrive

16. how would you describe their style? He’s a shameless looter and wears only the best from his fallen enemies :)  But mostly it’s neomilitarism

17. are they a early riser or a night owl? Night owl. He can adapt but at any given chance he stays up late and wakes up late

18. share three songs you associate with them. Devils Got You Beat - Blues Saraceno Nu Disco Remix Limp Bizkit - Break Stuff Jonathan Davis - Walk On By

NIGHT CITY.

19. is your character from night city? if no, where were they born? what brought them to night city? if yes, what area of the city did they grow up? Charter Hill, Night City. It’s a corpo district, relatively new. Used to be a nice place until everyone with big pockets got the hots for North Oak. Now it’s just the most affordable comfort area for mid-level corpos

20. where do they currently live? describe their home. He currently resides at the Arasaka Family Compound outskirts of Tokyo. It’s a huge ass fortress in a feudal style, beautiful and old-fashioned. He has a simple but spacious room in a traditional Japanese style with a futon mattress. He loathes it & most of the people around but at least he gets fed well regularly, and he enjoys spending time in a cherry grove garden 

21. do they have any favorite spots around NC? A garden in the Glen, he found it refreshing

22. do they like to cook for themselves, or eat out? do they prefer restaurants or street food? and how do they feel about vending machine food? He doesn’t like vending machines and enjoys the food served at the Compound, even if it seems exotic to him. But occasionally he eats street food to remind himself of his past life

23. do they prefer the city or the badlands? Stone jungles all the way. He was born in the city and he doesn’t get the appeal of dirt, sand and wind

24. what gang/faction/corporation do they align with, if any? Arasaka. He always thought it was more promising than Militech despite his parents’ lectures. His fate within the company wasn’t always good but he worked hard to prove himself. In some twisted way it did pay off

25. which radio station(s) is their favorite? He switches between Pacific Dreams, Vexelstrom, Samizdat and Morro Rock

26. if they do merc work, do they have one dedicated fixer? if so, who? Not really but he enjoyed working with Rogue. Johnny was right, she is the best. Her charisma is unmatched

27. have they ever had run ins with the badges? He prefers not to attract attention even if he has corpo immunity

28. are they quick to help a stranger in need or do they prefer to stay out of other peoples business? Depends. If stranger seems to be innocent then he might, but if V smells they brought it on themselves he won’t lift a finger for them

29. do they have any favorite celebrities that frequent or live in NC? how would they feel meeting them? V isn’t into celebrities. His closest experience to meeting one would be abduction of Hanako Arasaka. It wasn’t part of the plan and at first he thought he screwed up even worse than before - she was his former boss’ daughter at the time and he was practically begging her for help. But for some strange reason she reached out to him more than once so maybe he wasn’t so terrible

RELATIONSHIPS.

30. is your friend a social butterfly or more of a loner? Not exactly a butterfly but certainly not a loner. He socializes well but currently the world of top-level managers makes him feel out of place. Not a lot of people to connect to and it’s suffocating

31. who are their closest chooms in NC? Jackie was. Now it’s Viktor Vector and Misty but he hasn’t seen them in a while

32. do they have anyone they would consider family? Judy and Panam as they went through a lot together and supported each other

33. what is/was their relationship like with their parents? They are Militech managers so they weren’t happy when he chose Arasaka. They don’t communicate ever since

34. do they have siblings? He has an older brother Andras ‘Andy’ Toth but he hasn’t spoken to him for a while either

35. how would you describe their relationship with their family? Estranged

36. who is their biggest enemy? At this point anyone The Arasakas point their fingers at

37. tell a short story about your character with their best choom. Not exactly a story but V regrets never telling Jackie how much he affected his life. Jackie was a real force of nature

38. do they have a love interest? if so, who? He might... But he’s completely oblivious to his feelings and she’s way out of his league. It’s Hanako Arasaka

39. are they in a committed relationship or do they date around? They’re not and they don’t

40. has your character ever been in love? if so, with who? Once, with another corpo girl at Arasaka long time ago. It didn’t work

41. do they believe in soulmates? No, he believes in luck and mutual efforts

42. do they believe in love at first sight? He heard about it but it never happened to him and he doesn’t believe he can fall for someone just seeing them for the first time. You literally don’t know them at all at this point. He believes that love is a mutual investment and work

43. describe their ideal date. At this point it might be something as simple as watching sakura trees blooming. Small pleasures of life

44. would your character ever get married? If he had more time to live then maybe, theoretically. If he could be with someone special and circumstances worked in their favor

45. what was your characters first impression of their partner(s)? Not a partner but rather a love interest. He thought that Hanako handled herself well given the overall situation, and even was arrogant as fuck. Maybe that’s why she impressed him, it left a mark on his memory. I mean, you kidnap someone and they pretty much insult you? Fuck yes, no gift wrap is required

46. are they open about their relationship or low key? how would other people feel about them together? They’re not in a relationship but if they would be then it’d definitely be low key. No one should know, otherwise it may create serious problems for both

47. share a headcanon about your character and their partner(s). He likes to take and touch things from her table when he’s pensive during their conversations. Occasionally he spouts self-made haiku when the mood strikes him and boy - he’s terrible at it

48. share three songs you associate with your character and their partner(s). Chris Isaak - Wicked Game Jonathan Davis - Basic Needs The Rolling Stones - Anybody Seen My Baby? Hikaru Utada - Heart Station

NSFW.

49. name three of your characters biggest turn ons. Nice derriere, beautiful eyes and maturity

50. name three of your characters biggest kinks. Not taking clothes off; Voyeurism; Footsie

51. do they like having multiple partners or do they prefer monogamy? When it comes to a relationship he’s fully committed but he hasn’t been in one for a long time

52. do they watch porn or braindances? Both but BDs beat porn. He doesn’t do it often though

53. would your character ever make an explicit braindance? No, he’s not interested and not in a position to make one

54. do they have any cybernetic enhancements that serve sexual purposes? No

55. do they have a preference for ‘ganic bodies or do they like modifications? He doesn’t care much as long as he likes the person. Organic bodies are soft and warm, they give different kind of sensations. But he’s not picky

56. name three of your characters biggest turn offs. Low IQ, overly sexual behavior, manipulations

57. what is their ultimate fantasy? or ““secret”“ kink? Don’t ask because he won’t tell you even if his life depended on it. It’s bending Hanako over her piano and giving her a hard fuck, and once they’re done it’s breathing heavily in unison against her neck, their hands holding each other, her golden fingers leaving bruises on his thighs afterwards

58. would they ever use any substances like aphrodisiacs, alcohol or drugs during sex? No, he prefers natural sensations. At least as long as his nervous system is working properly

59. what is their wildest sexual experience? He accidentally almost drowned once during sex in a bathtub

60. are they more submissive or dominant? Dominant

61. does your character need to have an intimate relationship with someone to have sex? or do they prefer being unattached? That depends on a situation. Intimate relationship heightens the effects but aren’t necessary to derive pleasure

62. has your character ever participated in group sex? No but he received invitations

63. do they like to sext or play over the holo? Yes, if there’s a appropriate time for it

64. has your character ever ghosted someone after a sexual encounter? Yes

65. how would they react if they were ghosted by someone they like after a sexual encounter? He’s already been ghosted by Meredith Stout and he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. It’s unpleasant but why focus on something that doesn’t work if you can find more opportunities?

66. do they prefer kink oriented sex or spontaneous passionate sex? If he had to choose then it would be the latter 

67. how do they get down on their own? quick and easy or do they have to romance themselves a little? Quick and easy, all he needs is imagination and a shower. Just don’t disturb him

68. in what outfit do they feel sexiest? how do they dress to impress? Anything that’s clean, fresh and comfortable to wear

69. do they like having music on while they have sex? share three songs they’d play while getting down. He never tried it with music but he’s always open to new experiences and suggestions

[syilcawrites]

archived memories | 6

Series: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Type: Multi-Chapter Main pairing: Zelink (Zelda and Link) Rated: T Tags/Genre: pre-calamity, fluff (middle chapters mostly), hurt (toward the last chapters lmao), pining Summary: bits and pieces of zelink scenes strewn in between the canon memories in botw! Snippet from Ch 6: “’Oh fish pie, one day you will soon find your home inside my stomach,’ Zelda sighed out wistfully at her drawing, hugging it close to her face.” A/N: Between Memory 7-9  You can also read it on ao3! Click here to see all chapters on tumblr

Chapter 6: people watching

Zelda swung her legs as she sat snuggly inside a tree that faced Castletown, hiding from her citizens. She watched them roam about their day, unaware of her presence, as she observed them curiously. This had been a habit of hers since she was young, and it was a nice break in between praying and studying Sheikah technology.

She quickly shoved the last of her candied apples into her mouth and scrambled for her quill as a group of little kids appeared around the corner, running and scrambling and laughing.

It seems that the citizens of Castletown are quite close to one another, as many of the children that I have seen roaming about are doing so unsupervised. This is pleasantly surprising considering how many outsiders come in and out frequently, but I’m glad to see such safety present in our beloved, bustling town.

Zelda brought a leg up to her chest as she tried to keep the ruffle of her dress down in the process. She would’ve changed into her field attire if it wasn’t for the fact that she wasn’t supposed to leave the castle without some sort of escort in the first place.

She leaned against the trunk of the tree, watching them play tag for a little. She could already hear her father’s reprimanding tone regarding her boorish posture, but that was the beauty in hiding—she could do whatever she wanted to do, and she desperately needed this. She shook her head at the thought of her father, letting thoughts of him fall out in the process. The last thing she wanted to do was to mull over her relationship with him when she finally had some time to herself. With a sigh, she tapped the feather of her quill on her knee as she absentmindedly flipped through the pages of her notebook, mostly paying attention to the noisy, boisterous children.

The longer she watched them, the more uncomfortable she became—it was a sensation she was all too familiar with. Zelda scolded herself as she nipped away a bud of jealousy that had begun to form within her. She wanted to run around in the grass, laughing carefree and wholly. She thought she had dashed away such desires, but watching others do so seemed to resurface those bygone dreams.

As they rounded another corner, disappearing from view, her attention drifted to a bakery a bit further down the road. Zelda brought her ink bottle up and dabbed the tip of the quill into it before going back to her notebook.

The bakery near the east gate always has delicious bread and pastries available—I’ve always wanted to try some, but I would have to disguise myself. I’m not sure if I will have time…

She looked up thoughtfully, watching the leaves sway in the wind, as she tried to scourge up some plans to sneak into Castletown on her own. The last time Zelda tried venturing in, she had taken escorts, and the experience resembled the taste of watered down fruit juice. The escorts took every single thing she tried to eat out of her hands and tasted it themselves first before letting her have a bite out of it. Eating a meal that was already bitten out of wasn’t quite the same and made the experience quite… unenjoyable to say the least.

Zelda sniffed the air—fresh bread. Her stomach growled as she rapidly wrote down her thoughts.

The owner must wake up before the sun even rises to prepare his dough for it to look as scrumptious as it usually does! I cannot wait to see what types of pastries he’s made this week. Two months ago, the last time I was able to take a breath outside of the castle on my own, he had a set of specific assortments. Maybe now, he’ll spruce up the variety that he offers. Will he have more pastries this time around? Does he work alone? It must take hours preparing as much delicacies as he does.

Zelda tapped her notebook carefully as her thoughts drifted to Link. He would eat almost anything, and he probably had already tried every single meal that Castletown had to offer at this point.

She perked up when she saw the bakery owner walk out with a steel plate full of various pastries and breads—from fish pie to plain wheat bread—and all of it looked as delicious as one would expect. She chewed at her bottom lip as she quickly sketched the tray of goods in his hands. Luckily for her, he was setting it down outside on a table to organize it.

Zelda’s eyebrows knitted together in concentration, her hands trying to get down the perfect line and stroke. If she had the Sheikah Slate with her, she could’ve taken a picture, but Impa had asked for it before Zelda decided to go on her rendezvous.

Regardless, her drawings outside of Sheikah technology never ended up the way she wanted them to. She found sketching ancient ruins and tech much more linear and… ironically, more simplified compared to sketching the daily wonders of life itself, which always seemed to prove difficult for her.

“Oh fish pie, one day you will soon find your home inside my stomach,” Zelda sighed out wistfully at her drawing, hugging it close to her face.

She lowered her notebook to see if anything else particularly stuck out, but instead found herself face to face with bright blue eyes. She squealed in surprise and scrambled in her spot, almost falling off the tree. Link released one of his hands that grasped the tree branch hanging above her to catch her by her shoulder before she could fall off.

“Link, you almost scared the Goddess out of me!” Zelda hissed as she composed herself, going back to her snug spot nestled in the tree. She looked him up and down, raising an eyebrow. “When did you even—how did you even get up there?” she asked, her heart still racing in her chest. He looked a little funny just hanging around in front of her, but she was also concerned that the branch would snap off if he hung there any longer.

“I climbed,” he stated simply. He began swinging to a branch on her left, and she lightly hit his shoulder when he swung by.

“Don’t make too much noise or they’ll hear us!” She hissed again. He landed quietly on it, crouching. The branch was thicker and closer to the trunk, easily supporting his weight.

He cupped his hands over his mouth. “What are you doing up here?” He half whispered back, but it was still much louder than she would’ve liked.

She brought a stiff finger to her lips, darting her eyes over to the citizens, but they continued to obliviously go about their day.

“I’m simply…” Zelda waved her hand toward the people. “Observing my people. Sometimes I like to people watch.” She whispered, shrugging. She had been doing this since she was a young girl. Although she certainly stopped coming here as frequently as before, sometimes it was nice to just… watch others go about their day. To be an invisible spectator. It was something that she hadn’t experienced much in her own day to day life, where everyone was constantly watching her every move.

And she was still feeling a bit glum about being unable to accompany Link back to Hateno, so she sought refuge away from everyone else in order to feel sorry for herself in solitude. After her father had found out she was planning to visit Hateno with him, he had explained his disappointment in her for even considering such a thing.

“There are enough rumors about you already, do you plan to add more by accompanying your knight attendant, alone, to his hometown?” He had told her, shaking his head.

Zelda was confused, because they had traveled alone together before, but any word to defend herself simply went in one ear and out the other whenever it came to communicating with her father. She wasn’t sure what was worse though—hearing him explain how unacceptable and foolish it was of her to consider such an activity or the fact that Link remained quiet for the remainder of the week afterwards.

He didn’t tell her when he left for Hateno, and she saw him ride away across the grassy plains early yesterday morning from her study tower. She was glad that he was able to visit his family without any setbacks, if anything.

“When did you get back?” Zelda asked him, still scribbling away at her notebook. She was almost done with the last batch of pastries, and the baker was beginning to bring them all back into the building to put them on display.

“Just now.”

She heard him shuffling around—he did have a satchel around him when she saw him. It was probably food, knowing him.

I’ve also feel inclined to mention that the baker seems to have two children, both quite young, but I have never seen the baker embrace another adult. Perhaps his significant other is ill, or—

Zelda stopped writing, letting the sentence drop off where it was. She used to create scores of stories for random citizens she saw, but for some reason, she found it to be rude the more she thought about it.

Link tapped her shoulder, and she withdrew herself from her notebook.

“I brought these for you,” he stated, shoving a couple of jars filled with a milky liquid color at her. His voice had a sound of excitement that she was surprised to hear.

“Oh—“ Zelda struggled to juggle holding her notebook, ink, quill, and the bottles all at once, but Link was too busy pulling the bag over his shoulder to notice.

“I’m not sure what colors you wanted so I just picked up a bunch of bright flowers and rocks…some monster parts too.” He flipped the flap open, and she saw various colorful materials neatly stacked and labeled. There were fleet-lotus seeds, nightshade flowers, rock salts; there were even some moblin guts in a jar.

“What’s all this for?” Zelda asked, blinking.

“You said you needed to dye some clothes right?” Link asked, tilting his head. He looked down at her lap and noticed all of the stuff piled on top. “Sorry, your hands are already full.” He frowned and reached over for the jars, stuffing them back into the satchel.

“Oh Link,” Zelda laughed lightly, her heart felt full against her chest. “You didn’t have to go out of your way to get all of this.”

“You sew a lot, and Hateno’s dyes are really good.” Link pulled something out of the pocket inside of the satchel—a piece of paper. “The owner of the dye shop told me a list of materials that make really strong colors, in case you’re interested. Just let me know if you want anything and I can get it.”

Zelda’s tongue caught in her throat and she didn’t know what to say. For some reason, it felt overwhelming and her cheeks hurt from smiling.

“That’s awfully sweet of you,” Zelda said, accepting the piece of paper. “Did you draw this?” She held up the list, waving it a little.

Link hummed, nodding his head.

Her smile widened as she rifled through the list—the drawings were simple and crudely colored, but they were carefully considered.

“Thank you Link.” She hugged the paper to her chest. “I’ll keep this close to my heart.” Zelda hummed happily as she shifted through the objects that Link still held out to her, his arms stiff. She looked up quizzically when she didn’t hear a response from him, and froze. He was staring at her, his cheeks tinted a warm red—and now she was blushing because he was. She looked back down at her journal.

“Anyway, h-how did you even know I was up here?” Zelda said, her hands fumbling as she tried to be quick, but careful not to crumple the papers, as she shoved the list into her notebook. “I know that no one can see me from town.” She was too far from the castle for anyone to see her with the naked eye.

He let out a quick exhale, as if he was relieved she had changed the topic. “I asked Impa,” he jabbed his thumb behind him, back toward the castle. “Apparently she’s been watching you with the Sheikah Slate since you left.”

Zelda raised her head, peering past Link’s shoulder. “And to think I could avoid the gaze of the castle,” she mumbled. If she was alone, she would’ve stuck out her tongue and hoped Impa would’ve caught it. She was constantly watching out for her. Sometimes Zelda wondered if she ever slept. She was hoping at least one of her hiding spots would remain safe, but apparently that was too much to ask for. Feeling exposed, Zelda let out a small, frustrated sigh.

“Shall we head back then?” she asked stiffly, already moving herself from her position. She hoped that the various flora and shrubs would block her from anyone’s sight. Link looked at her curiously, but began to climb down as well.

“Is something bothering you?” Link asked as Zelda patted down her skirt, making sure it was free of dirt.

“I’ve been up there before the sun rose up, so I’m just feeling a little winded down.” Zelda tried to keep her voice light, but she knew it came out strained instead. She flipped through her notebook quickly, ensuring that everything was still in its place.

“Nothing else is wrong?” Link pressed again.

“What isn’t wrong?” Zelda huffed out, shutting it with both of her hands a bit more forcefully than she intended. She stood there for a moment before letting out another small sigh. “I apologize. I’m not angry… just frustrated." She stared up blankly at the castle. "I simply want to unlock my sealing powers,” she admitted tiredly.

She turned to face him when she felt his hand press against the top of her head. He drew his hand back with a small cherry blossom flower in between his fingers. He twirled it a little by the stem, looking at it thoughtfully.

“Just know that you’re not alone,” he said quietly. Zelda smiled at him, but it did not linger for long. Even though she knew he meant it, it couldn’t erase the sense of loneliness that was ever-present in her life. She followed his movements as he looked up to the sky, raising his hand, about to release the little flower into the wind.

“Wait—“ Zelda held out her hand, staring longingly at the flower pinched between his fingers. “May I?”

He placed it in her palm, and Zelda watched the petals flutter lightly against the gentle breeze. She softened at the sight of it and glanced at Link.

“It’s just for research.” She declared swiftly, when she saw him eyeing her with an unreadable expression.

“Using a cherry blossom?” Link asked. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he was trying to keep a laugh at bay.

“Yes!” Zelda insisted, drawing her hand back to her chest. “Just for research,” she quietly said. She glanced down to make sure the little flower was still safely in her palm before she turned around so he couldn’t see what she was doing. She tucked the flower into an empty page, pressing her notebook shut firmly and tightly to ensure that it wouldn’t slip out.

She told herself that she always pressed flowers and all sorts of vegetation for documentation. This wasn’t any different.

“On a more important note,” she started, mostly to remind herself, “I want to get the Sheikah Slate back from Impa. I still have a multitude of tests to run through with it, and there’s a shrine that I want to visit with Robbie and Purah before we head to the Spring of Courage.” It was going to be one of the last shrines she would be able to visit in months, and she wanted to get the most out of it before then.

Zelda raised an eyebrow when she noticed his eyes flit to the left, which was a habit of his when he was thinking.

“Thinking about something?” she inquired curiously.

He parted his lips slightly, but just as quick they sealed back together and he shook his head. Zelda narrowed her eyes.

“Come on, tell me?” she asked, poking his chest. “You can’t just not tell me after looking so thoughtful!”

He smiled at her—but it was a smile filled with mischief.

[excuseme-youpretty]

Pairing: Kim Namjoon / Reader

Side Pairings: None

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3,748

Warnings: Brief allusions to sex, but nothing too graphic.

Notes: This oneshot was requested by anonymous. They wanted adorable fluffy Namjoon spending a rare day off with his partner. I hope, wherever you are, that you liked it and I’m sorry for the delay ♥ I’ve had a virus that’s been kicking my ass.

Make your own requests: HERE

As you fold your body up on the axis of your hip, rotating in a clean arc to reach across the mattress toward Namjoon's designated patch, you are fully expecting to feel the cool compress of abandonment rippling along your sheets. 

It's always the same, the harsh bite of cold satin which has somehow preserved your boyfriend's silhouette and the residual cling of his cologne; leaving you a little disappointed but nevertheless eager to progress your day until his inevitable return.

Only on this morning it is not a reminiscent frost that you feel, but rather an unmistakable warmth and the soft, shallow breaths which can only belong to one man.

Namjoon wakes you organically, with lips of spun sugar and the barely-there pull of his teeth leaving a curl of calligraphy along the underside of your jaw. He tastes of peppermint and sunrise, pulling you from the remnants of your sleep with a soft exhale of your name.

"Good morning, Princess." He sighs, nuzzling a deliberately soft semi-circle just beneath your ear. "Or should I say 'good afternoon'?'"

The hot midsummer sun bleeds through your aerated curtains like tangerine paint dripping from a saturated canvas. You can hear songbirds twittering enthusiastically just outside your window and the elated laughter of children participating in a rowdy all-bets-off game of kickball in the park across the street. 

Everything is go go go. Nonstop motion. Somehow, the world ticks on in spite of your unorthodox absence.

The crab-shaped clock on the wall indicates that you have missed breakfast. You are close to missing lunch, too.

And you couldn't be more delighted. 

Because with Namjoon, days off are as rare as a rainstorm in the middle of the Sahara; a much-deserved rejuvenation.

"What time is it?" You whisper, your words  coming out all slurred and sleep-blanched. 

Namjoon presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. "Well, let's see… I accrued three missed calls and four text messages before finally deciding to just turn off my phone."

"Ah, so the children are missing your effervescent presence then?"

"It would appear so. As long as we can get through the day without Yoongi-hyung committing mass Fratricide, I'll consider it a victory."

You can't help but to giggle at the notion as unprompted visuals of an unamused Yoongi wrestling with a quartet of multicolor leashes, each one connected to the torso of a hyperactive dongsaeng, and Seokjin's disapproving pursed lips, overwhelm your senses. 

"And in the meantime? You have a whole twenty-four hours before things return to normal. How do you want to spend it?"

Namjoon answers your question with the brush of his lips against your own. He takes his time claiming your mouth, his lips startlingly hot in contrast to his sweet and minty tongue.

Namjoon's fingers weave slanted tendrils down over the bare flesh of your pelvis as soon as you part, summoning a film of goosebumps to the surface of your sun-soaked skin. 

You shudder helplessly as you ride out the residual sensation of such an earth-moving kiss. 

"Mmm… Well, I hope you're happy, Mister. That kiss just wasted a good five minutes of free time."

Your boyfriend's teeth pull a fluorescent pinstripe across his bottom lip, seemingly lighting his way as he begins his slow descent down your exposed stomach and between your thighs as they give without much instruction.

"If you call kissing you until you're weak a 'waste of time' then you're really gonna hate this next part, Princess."

The tip of his nose skims past your naval, crafting a pathway for himself in the stipple of airbrushed freckles which blossom on your skin. And yet, you are quick to catch the nape of his neck with your fingers, maintaining a barely-there hold of his hair to prevent him from creeping any lower.

"Hold up there, Handsome. How about we nail two birds with one stone? There's a hot, soapy untimed shower with your name on it. And I'd be more than willing to help you scrub any… hard to reach places~"

Namjoon tilts his head back inside your loose grasp, the pads of your fingertips pushing through his silvery-blonde strands to rest almost tauntingly against his scalp. He purses his lips in thought.

"Well, I'd be a fool to refuse such a titillating offer." He presses a large open-mouthed kiss to the underside of your naval. "And I'm no fool."

You are plucked from the barely-there drape of your duvet before you can reasonably react, Namjoon's arms imprisoning your midsection and hefting you skyward before carrying you into the cool porcelain of your bathroom.

-

The water which had cascaded down from your shower faucet was luxuriously light, a sprinkling of powdered sugar across your sleep-eased muscles. And yet the petting was nothing short of heavy. 

Namjoon had taken his time working sweet-smelling suds into your skin until you gleamed with sparkling iridescence; scents of lavender and violet mingling with the sharp musk of your boyfriend's shampoo. 

He had kissed you until your lips ached, buttering you up with an overdose of affection even as you stepped out of the shower and into the baked afternoon sunlight.

After a brief rendezvous in your closet, one which had taken longer than necessary to navigate thanks to Namjoon's wandering hands and greedy lips, you both finally settled on outfits which would compliment such a rare day off. 

He now sits across from you, grinning from ear to ear as he indulges himself in a

verifiable cloud of scrambled eggs and generously buttered toast; the first home-cooked meal he has had the pleasure of tasting in far too long. Even Seokjin's schedule has become so saturated that he can no longer find the time to finesse his way around their dormitory kitchen. 

Who would have thought a group of seven growing boys could survive on a consistent diet of frequented takeaway restaurants and prepackaged vending machine snacks?

He always looks so beautiful like this, dressed in nothing but a pair of faded jeans and a simple t-shirt. His hair, still damp from your shared shower and lacking any product, hangs limply around his handsome face in a fashion not too dissimilar from the signature whistle necklace draped across his chest. 

"I swear, babe, this is amazing." Namjoon croons, using a napkin to stipple away the loose crumbs which have gathered in the crevice of his ever-present smile. "What's your secret?"

Pushing your fingertips through the damp sheen of his hair, you take a seat beside him and indulge in a long, contemplative sip of your orange juice.

"A whole lot of love for my boyfriend and an unreasonably long night's sleep."

Namjoon's grin is so vast that his eyes momentarily disappear into little crescents. 

"That's fair."

He wraps an arm securely around your shoulders, tucking you into his hip where he feeds you small prisms of toast and watches as the amaranth horizon dances across your cheekbones.

You feel the cold, wet compress of a soft puppy nose brushing against your calf when RapMon darts wildly between your ankles. He yips musically, vibrating with an overdose of unexpected energy as though he himself had also indulged in a deliciously long slumber and was now reaping the rewards of his pent-up energy. 

Namjoon can't help but to laugh, the sound reverberating in tandem with the small bell looped onto Moni's technicolored collar. 

"I think our Puppy is ready to hit the road. Don't you, Princess?"

"It would certainly appear so."

You watch as Namjoon cross-hatches his thumb across an array of emails on the screen of his business cell phone, organising them into their designated folders, before he opts to switch off the device all together.

Following his lead, you gather up the empty breakfast plates and place them in the sink; deciding rather quickly that all dishwashing tasks are a problem for a future you. You take a bottle of chilled water from the fridge and grab Moni's collapsible bowl as well as his monogrammed leash, clipping it in place upon his collar and earning some gentle puppy-dog kisses in response.

You run your fingers through Moni's soft fur, giving special attention to his pointed ears and muzzle. Placing an affectionate kiss to his snout, you rise to your feet once more and turn towards your boyfriend.

Namjoon rattles his house-keys with a grin.

"Ready to get some sunshine?"

"With you? Always!"

-

The scarlet-hot skyline reflects prettily upon the shimmering silver swingset where you perch, your toes dangling mere millimetres above the dew-slicked grass. Scents of fresh pine and spring flowers permeate the air, as well as the sugary sweetness of cotton candy being spun into cute little beehives by a nearby vendor. 

At the centre of the park, a small group of children are having a competition to see who can blow the largest bubble. Like confetti, the air is full of shiny little bubbles as they rise up to the sky. And darting after them with an open mouth and comically wagging tongue is a soap-spritzed Moni. 

The children shriek with laughter, running around in circles with Moni bouncing merrily behind them. 

Namjoon's fingertips brush over your shoulders as he pushes you gently on the swing. He traces plump cartoon hearts over the nape of your neck, erecting a small film of goosebumps with every stroke. 

"It's such a gorgeous day out." He muses, turning his head to place an unexpected kiss against your forehead.

"Yeah, we really lucked out. Summer sunshine allll day."

"I'd take thunderstorms and heavy rain in a heartbeat as long as I get to spend the day with you, baby."

Ever a poet, Namjoon's words leave your insides tingling akin to sticky sherbet and fizzing pop rocks.  

"Dork~" You chastise in a soft voice full of mirth. 

You can feel his infatuated grin press into the back of your neck, his fingertips twirling around the stray strands of hair which ribbon over your noon-warmed cheeks.

"Only on my days off."

When Namjoon's digits begin to sway across your collarbones, you concertina them gently between your fingertips. You bring his hand to your lips, kissing across his skin with an audible smack. The pad of his thumb skims over your cheekbone as though he were an artist buffing paint across a canvas.

"You're so beautiful, Princess." He muses.

His words take on an illustrative quality; as though he were scribbling his infatuation across clean journal pages. And yet, before you can respond, he's dipping down just out of view to clasp a fistful of lawn.

"What're you doing, Joonie?"

"Just wait and see - It's a surprise."

Behind you, you can feel Namjoon's fingers work with fast needle-sharp precision. The rounded edge of his nail pierces through stem after stem as he braids several dainty daisies together into a makeshift crown. 

"Now, what is it that every princess needs, baby?"

"Her Prince Charming? Or Prince Destroys-Everything-He-Touches, whatever works."

"This is true." Wiping away the residual pollen on the leg of his pants, Namjoon takes a step closer toward you. He carefully places the crown on top of your head. "But she also needs her very own tiara!"

Grinning maniacally, you bring a hand up toward your head to stroke over the small stack of downy-soft petals which frame your forehead. 

"You're so cute, you know that?" You shriek, gasping when Namjoon presses a stream of rapid open-mouthed kisses against your glowing cheek. 

"Yeah, it's a special gift of mine. Come here, gorgeous."

With his hand outstretched in front of you, Namjoon holds his phone poised on both of your grinning faces. He snaps picture after picture, selca after selca, honing in on the kaleidoscopic shimmer of your eyes and the iridescent glow of lip balm which has transferred from your lips onto Namjoon's.

You stay like that for what feels like an eternity; dissolving into a world where your boyfriend's palms leave semi-permanent prints upon your hips from how tightly he embraces you and his laughter resonates deep within the crevices of your soul. 

Namjoon's cellphone feels positively heavy with the weight of all the memories you have captured together. From the soft and tender lip-locks, to the poorly performed rendition of Magic Shop, to the footage you filmed of a hyperactive Moni playfully chasing a butterfly through a cluster of dandelions. 

You have squeezed an entire month's worth of desperately craved affection into a single afternoon. 

-

It is only once the air begins to develop the faintest tickle of frost that you finally decide to depart from the park.

Namjoon's jacket falls around your shoulders like a cloak of denim. His cologne overwhelms your senses, scents of crisp waters and juniper berry, and at your feet walks a very tired but exceptionally happy puppy.

After briefly stopping by your favourite local bookstore to purchase some light reading material, as well as picking up an order of strawberry croissants and freshly brewed coffee from the quaint little patisserie where you and Namjoon had your first date, you finally arrive home. 

You unclasp Moni's leash, prompting him to scurry enthusiastically over toward his pet bed for a well-deserved nap, and retreat back to your own bedroom in order to slip out of your dress and into something more comfortable. 

Namjoon's old sweatpants drape around your hips like an elasticated hula-hoop, just barely held in place by fraying cord and sheer willpower. The sweater you have liberated from the back of your closet was once a Christmas staple before the gaudy crimson bows fell off, leaving a simple doe in its place. There are pinhole sized holes all over the elbow and sleeve, as well as a fraying hem, and yet you always find your greatest comfort when dressed in those faded and pilling fibres.

Once you have changed into your lounge wear, you return back to your living room to find Namjoon staring purse-lipped at the carpet beneath his toes. He has his business cell phone tucked in against his ear.

"So there's no major emergency then, Guk? Because this is supposed to be my day off."

You can just barely make out the airbrushed whistle of Jeongguk's voice tittering apologetically on the other end of the phone. 

"Yes, she's here." Namjoon glances up at you, smiling fondly as you throw yourself down on a nearby couch. "We're about to settle in for the evening actually, so - I… yep, okay. I'll tell her. Mhm. I will. You too, Kookie. Aight, bye."

"That sounded like fun~" You tease, wedging your spine backwards into a mismatched eruption of multicolored pillows. "Are all six members present and accounted for?"

"So far. JK sends his regards."

Rubbing away the small pearls of tension which had accumulated in his temples during the duration of his phone call, Namjoon places his cellphone down on the coffee table. He passes over your coffee order as well as a beautiful ooey-gooey strawberry croissant and folds his large limbs over the criss-cross of your own.

His lips are a scarlet compress of sugar-syrup kisses against your cheek as he presses small puffs of laminated pastry into your open mouth. 

"Now, what are we watching, Princess?"

-

It is surprisingly easy to dissolve into a rarely-negotiated routine with your billion dollar boyfriend. 

With old Friends reruns playing quietly in the background, interrupted only by the occasional snore from Moni as he navigates his way through a puppy dreamland, and the balanced warmth of Namjoon's large fingertips weaving aimless patterns across your scalp, your afternoon bleeds well into the evening before Namjoon's ravenous stomach alerts you to the passage of time.

Your fingertips have been fragranced by the scent of persistently thumbed pages, and you have just reached the point in your novel where the fair maiden must choose between the handsome but tender farm-hand or the rugged but passionate business executive.

You spare a glance toward your own leading man. With his deep-set dimples and a smile which could thaw the Arctic, you conclude that you have your own fairytale ending right in front of your very eyes.

"Hey, seeing as I'm in such a good mood, why don't we start on dinner? We can attempt that spaghetti recipe again!"

You can't help but to tut at the notion. "You mean the spaghetti recipe which nearly burned our entire kitchen down?"

"That was an accident. It could've happened to anyone!"

"You tried to cook the pasta without any water, Namjoon-ah."

"In my defence, I followed the instructions carefully. 'Cook the noodles in a pan.' I did that."

"Oh, they were cooked alright." 

You giggle in response to Namjoon's petulant pout, smothering the blush of his bottom lip in a brief but affectionate kiss. 

"How about instead of turning our kitchen into a living charcoal exhibit we order takeout from that Italian place you love?"

Namjoon's stomach rumbles with ravenous hunger as though in response to your proposal and you can't help but to laugh as you reach for the phone, having already committed your boyfriend's usual order to memory.

-

It is less than an hour later, once your stomachs have been sufficiently plied by copious quantities of rich, herby sauces and ribbons of silken (and most definitely not cremated) pasta, that Namjoon is curling back into your hip with a well-worn notebook in hand. 

You have both settled on a film for the evening, opting to delve headfirst into the technicolor vibrancy of San Fransokyo with Moni settled comfortably upon your lap and the fuzziest blanket imaginable draped around your shoulders. 

Namjoon's breath is deliciously warm where it unfurls across your throat, dripping like molten honey into your collarbones and stippling a light film of goosebumps across your skin. You can't help but to shudder as his lips find your temple, your cheek, flowing freely across the ridge of your jawline until he finally settles against the upturned curl of your lips.

"I love you so much, Princess." He sighs, inundated with adoration for his girl. 

"Not as much as I love you."

As the movie plays quietly in the background Namjoon's fingertips are ever-moving. The light scrape of his pen nib darting across clean paper provides a percussive soundtrack  to Baymax's bumbling antics, the edge of his palm stained by faded charcoal ink from touching the page before his words have sufficiently dried.

Out of the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the curl of Namjoon's haphazardly jotted Hangul, piecing together the sentences he has written in your honor.

'...Your eyes are a sunrise which blanch my skin and leave me burning all night long.'

'... Your smile, sweeter than candy, paints syrup in my veins with every glance.'

'... When you say you love me I can feel it resonate skin-deep, stacking promises like petals in my ribcage.'

Namjoon's lyrics are picturesque and beautiful. Even without the accompaniment of instruments and production you can practically feel a cococonphy of emotional ARMYs singing along passionately to each word; as though wearing your boyfriend's carefully scribed poetry like a badge of honor.

To be the inspiration behind so many awe-inspiring songs, whose lyrics act like a beacon of hope for many individuals scattered throughout the universe, well… it's quite the undertaking. 

Fortunately, Namjoon makes it all worth it. He's handsome and expressive and capable of leading an entire ARMY into a head space of pure gold. 

And as he pulls your body a fraction closer to his own, the tip of his nose nestling against your pulse point to emboss an asymmetric heart on your honeydew skin, you realise you couldn't possibly love him any more.

-

As the credits for Big Hero 6 begin to roll across your television screen, stark and loud and full of celebratory fanfare, Namjoon is quick to locate the television remote underneath his saturated notebook pages in order to hit mute. 

Beside him your eyelids have fallen to a close, lips parted to release several soft snores which fall in almost perfect tandem with Moni's fitful exhales. Your lashes flutter delicately, poured like strips of raven lace across your cheekbones, and your fingers curl instinctively in your lap as you clutch onto whatever adorable projection your mind has chosen to supply.

Placing his notebook and pen aside, Namjoon is careful to shoo RapMon away from your lap so that he does not disturb you. He half-attempts to fold the blanket which had cocooned your shoulders, opting instead to toss it onto the nearby recliner out of harm's way.

Your body is feather-light when he lifts you into his embrace. He is careful to rest your cheek against his chest, hooking your legs over his forearm to make it easier to transport you to the safe haven of your bed. 

After navigating your hallway with a surprising degree of sufficiency, having knocked over little more than a plastic vase containing decorative pebbles and perhaps skewing a photo frame or three, Namjoon carefully places you upon your bed. 

Your mattress seems to eagerly welcome the barely-there compress of your body, your satin sheets lapping up against your limbs like terracotta waves frothing upon the shore.

Once he has dimmed the lights, Namjoon places his cellphone down onto his bedside table and connects his charging cable once he is certain that he has reinstated his god-forsaken alarm.

He kicks off his jeans, opting to remain in his t-shirt and boxers for tonight, and carefully removes his whistle necklace so that he can slide comfortably in bed beside you.

Your perfume lingers upon the collar of his shirt, fragrant and floral and enhanced considerably by the catalyst of Seoul's delicious summertime air. And on his lips burns the faintest smother of the strawberry lip balm you so generously applied after your post-dinner teeth cleaning; the very same lip balm that Namjoon had been so eager to kiss off of you.

In your sleep, you turn comfortably onto your side, bowing your spine backwards until you reach the solidity of your boyfriend's elongated torso. Namjoon is quick to bracket his calf around your ankles, pressing a stream of steady kisses down your jugular and over the swell of your clavicle.

"Sweet dreams, my Princess." He sighs softly. Contentedly. 

His lashes soon begin to droop as though laden with lead, influenced in no small part by an entire day's worth of carefree relaxation and indulging without consequence. 

No meetings. 

No leadership.

No band mates. 

Just his beautiful dog, his beautiful girlfriend and a beautiful twenty four hours.

[complexion-me]

Interview : Dr Will Kirby, Dermatologist

Dr Will Kirby is a board-certified dermatologist and the Chief Medical Officer for the nation's leading aesthetic dermatology group, LaserAway.

1) Who/what inspired you to become a dermatologist?

From a very early age I was attracted to science because, for as long as I can remember, I’ve had a lifelong love affair with nature. But I was a late bloomer in the field of medicine and didn’t become a dermatologist until later in life. See, I wanted a career that allowed me to work with my hands as well as my brain and it took me a while for me to realize that specialization in dermatology would allow me to be both technical and cerebral. To wit, I’ve always incorporated artistry into everything I’ve ever done so I’m very fortunate that my life journey has led me to the field of aesthetic dermatology specifically. But there is a misconception that when someone is considered an expert in his or her field, their rise was preceded by a bolt of inspiration but that is just not always the case; While some passions are erupt spontaneously through an inspirational moment, others just evolve slowly and grow over time…and the latter was certainly true for me.

2) Laseraway is the biggest aesthetic dermatology group in the nation. Could you tell us what someone who visits a Laseraway clinic can expect?

You don’t became the nation’s leader in aesthetic dermatology by accident. We take a tremendous amount of pride in customer service and offer only the highest quality, cutting-edge technology. With 13 board certified dermatologists and more than 450 allied health care professionals, our medical acumen is unparalleled and when you add in a commitment to patient safety, you having the winning recipe for the highest level of patient satisfaction. To answer the question, from the time a patient enters a LaserAway clinic until the time they leave, they can expect the absolute best care in the aesthetic dermatology industry.

3) Tell us a bit about the selection process when you’re thinking about offering a particular procedure at your clinics?

It is important to note that aesthetic dermatology is a nuanced business and that with injectable aesthetic treatment and energy-based device procedure hyperbole is ubiquitous while quality, reproduceable results are rare. As such, our vetting process is detailed and thorough. That said, we leave no stone unturned meaning we try absolutely everything but LaserAway never offers fad treatments, trendy procedures, or jumps on the bandwagon. Any patient visiting us rests assured that they are getting gold-standard treatments from the best injectables and devices available.

4) Your skin looks amazing! Could you walk us through your skincare routine?

I detect no lies - my Skin does look amazing and I fully acknowledge that fact! LOL. But you, or anyone else reading this interview, can have amazing skin too! There isn’t some sort of special potion that I have that's unavailable to the population! I just use good quality products very, very consistently and I supplement them with energy-based device treatments at LaserAway!

So allow me to lay out my simple skincare routine:

In the evening I wash my face with a gentle wash and warm water. It really doesn’t matter what wash you choose and anyone who tell you differently is misleading you. Washes just simply don’t matter much as they aren’t in contact with your skin long.

After letting my face air dry or after drying it with a hair dryer on the cool setting I apply a pearl sized amount of My Hero. It's a retinol serum that increases surface cell turnover. See, human adult skin cell turn over takes, on average, one to two months to completely replenish itself and retinols speed this process up but I still remind everyone that you have to use retinol products for a minimum of eight weeks before you start seeing a result. If you are consistent then your skin will eventually look smoother, softer, and more supple with the use of a nightly retinol.

Each morning I gently cleanse my skin with either cleansing wipe or again with a wash.

I then apply a sun protection product with a minimum of an SPF 30 rating. If I’m going to the beach then I use an outdoor product  like a SunScreen Stick from SkinBetter but if I’m just going to work I use something like Alastin HydraTint. 

And now please allow me please loudly emphasize two points:

A) Most people use way too many products! So, If you haven’t used a product that you in own in the past six months them you should discard it! Only purchase products you need and love and don’t purchase every single thing you see!

B) You can spend a lot of money on good products or a small amount of money on good products! So, don’t think you have to break the bank to get the right products in your bathroom!

5) You’ve recently launched your very own line of skincare. What made you formulate your own range and how does it differ to what’s currently available in the market?

Like many dermatology practices, we used to curate products from a variety of different skincare companies and offer them for sale to our patients. But that was a source of extreme frustration for us because while we really, really liked many of the products, we simply didn't love any of them for our patient population. See, we listened to our patients: We recognized that they were our best advocates and that their number one priority when selecting products to purchase and take home was the ability to maintain their excellent in-clinic treatments results longer. As the leading aesthetic dermatology group we eventually acknowledged that we needed to carve out the time and money to create a skincare line that was formulated with the goal of complementing our in-clinic services. And thus, after many years of patient focus groups, skincare research and laborious testing, LaserAway Beauty was born!  So, to answer to more concisely answer your question, there are many, many great skincare products available in the market but laserAway Beauty Products the single best choice for patients already receiving energy-based device delivered aesthetic dermatology treatments… and that's the differentiator in this saturated skincare market!

6) What are some of the in-office treatments you get on a frequent basis?

I am the least hypocritical dermatologist you’ll ever meet! See, I practice what I preach and in the interest of full transparency, I get an IPL (intense puled light) treatment every six months and I typically get a Clear + Brilliant every two months and alternate with a Fire & Ice Laser Facial every two months as well.

7) What kind of patients do you turn away, if any?

The bane of any aesthetic dermatology practice is the patient with unrealistic expectations. Any reasonable person recognizes improving skin fitness it takes time, energy, emotion, and a commitment. But we live in a society of instant gratification and the truth is that some patients aren’t going to be satisfied because they want impossible results. When we realize someone isn’t going to be a good fit we provide them with appropriate education and polity, but quickly, turn them away.

8) In regards to the future of dermatology, what are you most excited about?

If you ask me to predict the future, I’ll politely ask you to review the past. See, the word ‘doctor’ is derived from the Latin word ‘docēre’ which means “to teach”. So, while I am a board certified dermatologist, I’m more importantly a teacher and my job is to educate. Mentoring is a time-honoured tradition that many in the field of aesthetic dermatology seem to have forgotten but I strongly suspect that the future of dermatology will see a return to the placing a premium on education and that's why I train not only dermatology residents, but registered nurses, physicians assistants, and nurse practitioners. To get more granular, I’m of course predicting that our field will continue to evolve from a technical standpoint but I also strongly believe that we’ll also see a return to mentorship so future clinicians will have a well-balanced, more individualized aesthetic educational foundation upon which they can grow personally and professionally.

9) For someone who’s on a budget, what are your tips for great skin?

If you were trying to improve your athletic fitness level, you wouldn't start off by buying the most expensive athletic shoes, immediately running a marathon, and then expect to wake up the day after with the perfect body. Well, the same analogy applies to skin fitness. See, improving your skin or maintaining already great skin doesn't have to be expensive but it does take a commitment and patience. I always implement a hierarchal approach utilizing the least expensive and most effective options coupled with education and encouragement. We know that UV exposure is awful for your skin so start by immediately committing to strict  sun avoidance on the face via a wide-brimmed hat, sun glasses, and a daily SPF product. At night simply start using a retinol product. It really is that simple. Start with those two easy, inexpensive concepts and then slowly educate yourself and expand to more exotic offerings from there!

10) Can you leave us with some words of wisdom? What else should we know?

I’d be remiss if I didn’t bow down to my teammates. While our clinicians are the best in the business, our legal, human resources, service/tech, marketing, patient outreach, sales, and executive teams all kick ass too. LaserAway makes this look real, real easy but our company is the amalgamation of the best individuals in the dermatology industry and you will not find a group of more intelligent, ethical, hardworking, dynamic individuals. Life is too short to work with people you don’t love and I’m of the strong opinion that the main reason that LaserAway is supremely successful is because of our corporate culture! I jump out of bed every morning excited to see what Team LaserAway will accomplish!

Credits

https://www.laseraway.com/

https://www.instagram.com/LaserAway

https://www.instagram.com/drwillkirby1

https://twitter.com/DrWillKirby

[tangledcassandra]

I Know the Truth

Title: I Know the Truth

Description: When Cassandra has a not-so-innocent dream, it opens up a whole flood of feelings.

[Read on AO3]

Cassandra wakes to find herself immobile. Arms, legs, torso, hands, ankles, all bound to an uncomfortable wooden chair.

"Who are you?" A voice rings out, and Cassandra looks up from trying to determine what she's been restrained with. It's not rope, that's for certain.

"My name is Cassandra. I've come to rescue the lost princess," she says, with as much authority as she can muster. She doesn't exactly have the upper hand, and appeasing her captor is probably her best bet. Still, seeming timid is not her strong suit.

"I'm the lost princess," the mysterious captor steps out of the shadows, revealing herself to the guard.

It's then that Cassandra realizes what's restricting her. It's hair. Long, golden locks spring from the head of the princess, swirling in random patterns on the ground and culminating around her and the furniture. An unorthodox but effective tactic, she notes.

"All of Corona has been searching for you, your highness," she squirms under her confines, but she's tied up tight.

"And now you've found me," she slinks across the room, coming to stand in front of Cassandra. She reaches a hand down to cup her chin, pulling her face upwards. The guard gets a good look at those sparkling green eyes, before the princess descends and envelopes her in a deep kiss. She doesn't protest, leaning into the intimate touch. She's dreamed of this moment many times before.

Rapunzel straddles her legs as the kiss becomes more passionate. Cassandra fights against her restraints, wanting desperately to touch her, but not being allowed. Rapunzel rolls her hips, sliding against Cassandra's lap, and she can barely suppress a whine as she feels a wave of heat rise up her body.

"You kept me waiting a long time," the princess says breathily.

"My apologies, princess," Cassandra leans forward as the princess pulls back, aching for her touch again.

"Since I had to wait so long for my freedom, now you'll have to earn yours," she dips down again, and her soft lips meet Cassandra's with renewed fervor.

As the guard melts into the kiss, so too does the princess, and soon Cassandra finds her hands roaming the delicate hips of the woman occupying her lap. One hand trails up, gloved fingers making contact with the flawless skin of the princess's neck. She shudders beneath the touch, which compels Cassandra to grab a fistful of that blonde hair and pull her head back. Their lips part, but Cassandra keeps hers busy with the exposed neck and collar of the princess.

"Cassandra…" the breathy whisper of her name makes her pause, looking up at her romantic companion. Eyes closed, lips parted, chest rising and falling as she allows herself to be absorbed in the moment. Cassandra carries on with her nipping and suckling, teeth and tongue playing along the perfect untouched skin. She certainly doesn't want to disappoint her princess.

"Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra!" Rapunzel's voice rises in pitch as she carries on. It encourages her to be bolder, sliding a hand down to lift the purple dress. She hears her name being called again, this time louder, more pronounced, less breathy. More urgent, almost.

Cassandra wakes to see Rapunzel standing over her. Looking up and taking stock of her surroundings, she determines she's inside the caravan. Still on the journey to follow the Black Rocks. She blinks, pushing down the last traces of a wonderful dream, sighing groggily as she sits up on the edge of the bed.

"Raps? What is it?"

"You were breathing heavily and squirming a lot. I thought you might be having a nightmare."

Cassandra can feel a blush rise from her shoulders all the way to her face, and she quickly turns away. "Nightmare. Yeah. Right. I need some air."

She stands and makes her way to the door, opening the top half and letting in daylight. She leans out, surveying the trees around them, trying to judge what time it is by the location of the sun. Her frequent night watches have made for a lot of day naps, altering her perception of time and the passing of days. She yawns, the fog of sleep lifting, although her mind keeps replaying the events of her most recent dream.

Rapunzel appearing by her side does not make it easy. "You know, when I had nightmares back at the castle, it helped if I talked about them. You've always been there to listen to me. I want you to know that I'm here for you too," she reaches for Cassandra's hand, but the lady-in-waiting senses the touch before they meet, and preemptively pulls away.

"Thanks, Raps, but I'm fine. I'm good," she smiles wanly, taking in a deep breath of fresh air, hoping to scatter any remaining indecent thoughts. This isn't the first time she's had a dream like this, and with Rapunzel standing next to her, hair glowing in the sun, eyes sparkling in the light, she knows it won't be the last. Daydreams and night dreams of the princess have filled her head ever since the day they met. She thought they might subside after a while, but they've only gotten worse. Now, they're cooped up together in the small room they share in the caravan, and every day it gets harder to hide her feelings.

"Are you sure?" her voice is layered with concern, and it makes Cass's heart ache when she thinks of all the things she's hiding. "You won't tell me about your dream?"

"You really want to know?" Maybe she's too tired to think clearly, or maybe the heat of the day is getting to her. Whatever the reason, Cassandra decides opening up is better than dealing with inquisitive glances from Rapunzel for the rest of the day. When she decides she wants something, she doesn't let up, and the lady-in-waiting can tell she's overtly curious about the dream.

"Yes, of course I want to know! I get that you want to be seen as this fearless warrior. But it's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. I won't tell anyone," This time, she reaches for Cass's shoulder, and makes contact. Her affectionate smile is always so tender, it melts Cassandra's heart right into a puddle on the floor. It's always so hard to say no, and this time, that soft look wins out.

"It wasn't a nightmare. It was-" she's trying to determine the best way to explain her salacious sleep scenario, and decides it's best to just jump right in and let the consequences happen as they may. "I find you in the tower. Before Eugene ever arrived. You've tied me up with your hair, but you're not threatening me. You're not even scared of me. You make your way across the room and sit on my lap, and then you start to kiss me. Before I know it, I'm free, and my hands are on your hips and you like what's happening. I like what's happening. I kiss your neck and run my hands through your hair and along your body, and just when I go to slide my hand up your leg- well, you woke me up," she's staring out at nature, not wanting to meet Rapunzel's eyes, but when she's silent for several moments, she has to.

She's met with wide eyes, some sort of shocked, and her heart plummets as she recognizes this was a mistake. "Look, Rapunzel, I'm sorry. Forget about it, okay? It doesn't mean anything," She hasn't bolted or thrown Cassandra out, which is frankly confusing considering the expression on her face.

But her features relax as she asks, "Do you have a lot of dreams about-" Cass sees her mouth something, more quiet than a whisper, before she seems to rethink what she was going to say and finishes with, "-involving girls?"

"No," Not anymore, anyway, "Just you, Raps."

"I didn't know girls could do that."

It suddenly hits Cassandra like a ton of bricks that Rapunzel might not understand her predisposition towards women. Of course. She'd been locked in a tower most of her life. Her exposure to persons with a preference for the same gender would have been minimal, if not completely non-existent. "I guess you wouldn't, huh? Well, they can."

"And that's allowed?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know, I guess- I've never met someone who…" she trails off. She's known Cassandra for nearly two years, so actually, she has met someone, and now she's rethinking every interaction they've ever had that she may have misinterpreted.

"You've probably met more than you think, Raps. It's not a big deal. We're just regular people."

"No, of course you are, I just-" Her thoughts are scattered in all directions. Rapunzel wants to ask Cassandra some personal and prodding questions, some of which are related to certain personal moments the two have shared, but all that comes out is, "So you like girls like I like Eugene?"

Cassandra hates the comparison, but she supposes it's the closest example to her personal inclination that Raps has to work with."I guess? Probably."

She nods like she understands, but looks like she wants to say more. Cassandra can see the cogs in her head turning, trying to piece together her thoughts. Usually new situations or experiences have her bubbling with questions and curiosity, but this time, she looks like she's concentrating very hard on processing this new information.

"Raps?" Cassandra ventures. Maybe she needs a little encouragement to say what's on her mind.

"So, if you have dreams about me, does that mean you like me?" she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, her query sounding innocent.

Cassandra's face heats up, and she realizes disclosing her dream has now landed her in hot water. Face-to-face with Rapunzel, she can't exactly lie her way out of this, and anyway, she's been truthful for the rest of this conversation, so why stop now? "I've always liked you, Raps. I mean, just, you know, as a friend likes another friend," she settles on a thin half-truth.

"But as more than a friend, too?" Rapunzel prods.

It’s been so long, Cassandra was sure Raps would never catch on to her crush, and anyway, she has Eugene, so it would never work. Maybe she’s being so honest now because that fact finally settled in and she’s ready to move on. Now that she knows Raps had never really been rejecting her advances and was more naive than she thought possible, things started to shift. Her heart thrummed in her chest, her confession finally out in the open, at least partly.

She swallows, knowing it's too late to turn back now. She may as well get this over with. "Yeah, Raps. But like I said, it's no big deal. You're with Eugene, and that's okay. I'm okay with that. I don't fight with him because I'm trying to break you two apart or anything. He's just seriously annoying," Cass can only hope Raps believes the last part, because it is true.

"Right, of course, Cass! You'd never do something like that to hurt me. Right?"

"Right. I lo- like you too much," she pauses, letting more words spill as she decides to get everything off her chest here and now, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to find out this way."

Rapunzel is quiet for awhile. The sound of chirping birds and rustling leaves fills the empty air between them. It's peaceful out here. Maybe it's the freedom from the hustle and bustle of the city that's finally given Cass the clarity to say what she needs. Maybe, out here, she can't distract herself from her feelings, because there's no giant castle to get lost in and no training grounds to take out her frustrations on.

"How long?"

"Huh?"

"How long have you known about your feelings?"

That's an easy one. "Since the day we met."

"You knew right away?"

"Yeah, Raps. I think I kind of knew before then, too."

"But I've known you almost as long as I've been at the castle. How could you?" she sounds confused, and Cass can understand why. Rapunzel doesn't fully realize that the entire city of Corona spent nearly two decades waiting for her to come home. All of her subjects have known about her long before she even knew about her royal heritage.

"You didn't know me. But I knew you. I grew up hearing stories about the lost princess. When I was a little girl, I dreamed of being the one to rescue you. I imagined all sorts of dangers I would have to face to free you. A lot of the citizens of Corona gave up hope. Some assumed you were dead. But somehow, I knew. I hoped, anyway. I hoped I'd be the one to find you, and then I would be your hero, and maybe-" she's rambling, and shuts her mouth before she reveals too much. The more she says, the more she feels like she's trying to win Rapunzel over, when the last thing she wants to do is come between her and Eugene.

"Maybe?"

Yep, she's said too much. Cass runs a hand down her face, and opens the bottom half of the door so she can step out. Raps follows close behind. "-maybe we'd live happily ever after," she finishes, reluctantly. All the walls she's worked to build over the past several months have all crumbled down in one spectacular heap.

"I'm going to go forage for some supplies," she's almost ready to bolt into the woods and never come back.

"Cass-"

She can feel Rapunzel's eyes on her as she disappears into the undergrowth, but she can't bear to look back. She doesn't even know what kind of supplies they need; all she knows is she needs some time to clear her head and get some space. Maybe, if she's lucky, Raps will let this all go by the time she gets back. Maybe, if she's not so lucky, Raps will have even more questions. Well, she's got time to figure out how she's going to dodge a potential interrogation about her feelings. She's always managed before.

* * * * *

It's been hours, and Cass has let herself get lost once or twice, just for the fun of it. Well, not the fun of it, so much as she is avoiding going back to camp. She's never been one for wasting time, but today, she's making an exception. She knows that wherever she roams, Owl can help her find her way to the others. At least, she hopes so. If not, well, she guesses she'll just live here now.

But somehow, she finds her way back before dark. Her satchel's full of herbal and some more rare plants, that the group can use or barter for other goods. Food is easier to come by, so she hasn't wasted her time on it. With her training, she's pretty much the only one of them who can tell the different types of flora they come across, and its uses. They'd probably all have died or turned back without her, honestly. So she has to come back.

"Cassandra!"

She nearly turns around and heads right back into the forest. But the sound of her name on Rapunzel's lips tugs at her heartstrings, and she feels almost forced to look at her. There's Raps, standing outside the caravan, looking distressed. Her fists are clenched, one over the other, pressing against her chest. Cass wants to run to her, to hold her tight and tell her everything will be okay, like she always does, but she knows that for once she's the cause for her being distraught.

"I was worried about you."

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you. is what she wants to say. She wants to take Rapunzel in her arms, kiss her gently on the forehead, and hold her close, telling her everything is okay now. They're together again.

But that's not the life she's living, so it's not what she says.

"Raps, I can take care of myself," she rolls her eyes and smiles. She doesn't want her sudden disappearance earlier to become some big thing right now. She tries to pass Rapunzel so she can sort through her findings inside the caravan, but a hand on her shoulder stops her.

"You can't just go off alone!"

"I can, and I did."

"You're always telling me not to wander off."

"That's different. You can't track your way back. You can't forage and live off the land for days on end. Do you even know how to set up a temporary shelter? Or build a fire? I know you can hold your own in a fight, but surviving in the woods is a lot more difficult. I worry about you. You don't get to worry about me," she pushes past, setting her bag down on a table inside.

Rapunzel follows, and Cassandra can tell from her demeanor that their conversation from earlier is far from over. Cass settles into a chair, and Rapunzel takes the one on the other side of the table. She sighs, looking anywhere but at the princess, hoping if she ignores her maybe she'll go away. She isn't usually this cold toward Raps, and a pang of guilt has started to wind its way through her stomach. She's not good with feelings, she knows, which is a polar opposite to her best friend.

Finally, the silence stretches too long between them, and Rapunzel bursts out, "I do worry about you, Cass! I've been beside myself all day waiting for you to get back. I didn't even know if you were coming back at all! You didn't tell me anything when you left. I was afraid you were mad and you were going to do something reckless. I don't know how I can live without you! How I could make it to the end of this journey without you. I can't possibly comprehend how much you sacrificed to be here with me. Putting your life on hold, leaving behind the only family you know, being away from home for who knows how long. Cass, I never fully understood why you did all that for me, until today.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Rapunzel's voice is pitched, like she's trying to hold back tears. Cass has always been there to comfort her when she's upset, and it pains her that she can't do that now. Here they are, on the road, with who knows how long a journey ahead of them, and she just had to open the Pandora's box of her heart.

"Because it wouldn't have mattered," Cassandra replies, plainly. She shrugs for emphasis, trying to play off this whole conversation like it isn't affecting her. Trying to brush this all off so Rapunzel lets it go. Trying, in her own way, to make the problem go away by ignoring it.

"What do you mean it wouldn't have mattered?! You had a dream! Your hopes and dreams matter to me, Cass. Why is it so hard for you to accept that I care about you?"

Cassandra doesn't know how to respond to that. She's spent her whole life pushing others away, focusing on the here and now, concentrating on meeting her goals and not letting anything or anyone stand in her way. Having a social life was a waste of time, in her opinion, but more and more she's learning that perhaps skipping the crucial life step of having friends made it much more difficult to talk about herself now. She leans back in her chair, blowing stray hair out of her eyes.

"Raps, it's silly."

Rapunzel taps her fingers on the flat surface. She drove Cass away earlier, and she's not prepared to go through all the panic and worry of losing her best friend again. But this is important, for the both of them, to get this out in the open.

"Tell me, please. Tell me everything. No more secrets. I've never been afraid to confide in you, Cass," she reaches across to place her hand over Cassandra's, then thinks better of it and returns it to her lap, "Please, trust me too. Tell me what I can do to earn your trust."

"Raps, it's not about that," Cass sighs. She feels like every word she says is driving a wedge between Rapunzel and Eugene, but every word she doesn't say is driving a wedge between Rapunzel and her. Maybe Rapsl is right. Maybe trusting her is the right thing to do. Trusting her, not just with her private personal thoughts, but trusting her with the ability to be able to continue to love Eugene and ignore her feelings, just as she has for months.

"Okay, so there's this whole thing I made up like, one time. I'm riding into Corona with the lost princess. Everyone's cheering and celebrating, but none of that matters because you're right there with me. You feel safe in my arms, leaning back against my armor, a little frightened by all the attention, but you know I'll protect you so it's okay. We arrive at the castle and the king and queen are overjoyed to have you back. That evening, there's a whole banquet in your honor, and I get the privilege of sitting next to you.

"After that, I get offered any position in the royal guard that I want. I choose to be your personal bodyguard. Keeping you safe from all dangers, showing you around Corona, helping you adjust to your new life. Opening doors for you, sliding out your chair when you sit down, lifting you over puddles so your feet don't get wet. Staying by your side every moment you're awake, and making sure you're taken care of.

"One evening, when I've brought you back to your room for bed, you tell me how nice it is having me around, and how lucky you are that I found you. You invite me into your room for a moment, away from the door guards. You hold my hands in yours and confess that you think you're falling in love with me. You're nervous about it, but I think it's cute how flustered you are. Then, I tell you I've been in love with you for a long time.

"You're so relieved that you lay your head on my shoulder and wrap your arms around me. It's all so warm and comforting, and the only thing that makes it all the more perfect is when you step back and look into my eyes, smiling. I can tell you want to say something from the way you keep fidgeting and looking away, but instead of speaking, you practically leap forward and plant your lips against mine. It's surprising, at first, but I can't deny I've wanted this for a long time. So I give in, letting my hand tangle in some of your hair, the other hand resting against your hip. It doesn't last long, but afterwards I bid you goodnight and leave quickly.

"After that, our evening talks become longer and more frequent, until one night I stay until morning, holding you in my arms. We decide we have to tell the king and queen, your parents, if we really want to stay together. King Frederic takes some coaxing before he comes around, but Queen Arianna helps convince him. She's suspected for awhile that something has been going on between us, mostly thanks to the other guards who can't keep their mouths shut. But she's supportive, and that's what matters. Eventually, the king comes around too."

"For something you say is silly, that was a very elaborate description," the way Rapunzel says it sounds like she doesn't really mind hearing Cassandra go on and on about her imaginary scenarios. "Is that why you trained so hard all your life? So you could be ready to take care of me?"

"No! Of course not. I trained to- because-" Cass swears under her breath. The question catches her off guard. "Obviously, to impress my father."

"Obviously," Rapunzel echoes, but she doesn't sound convinced.

"Look, it was a whole big fantasy when I was younger, but that was all way before I met you. Besides, I never really believed any of it would come true. Dreams are just that, dreams. They're not reality. That's why I focus on the here and now, like my dad taught me. All that's important is what's right in front of me."

"I'm right in front of you," Rapunzel points out, even though it's not entirely accurate. It seems like the right thing to say, in the moment.

"Yeah," Cass says, softly, turning to meet Rapunzel's gaze. "You are. And you're what's most important to me."

Rapunzel pauses at that, and Cassandra knows it's because she can't reciprocate. She has Eugene, and he is and should be the most important person in her life. And if not him, than her parents. Either way, Cassandra is down a ways on Raps' list of important people. She knows she's important to the princess, in some way, but not the most important. She's always been aware of that reality.

"That's not fair," Raps says with a scowl.

"You're right. It's not," Cassandra counters, as a smile pricks at the corners of her mouth for some reason, like it's funny Rapunzel somehow thinks things are unfair from her point of view. The princess, with the boyfriend and the biological parents and the servants and the inheritance. Her life is really unfair.

"What about your dad?"

"He's great, and I appreciate everything he's done for me, but… our relationship is complicated," he was a good man, a strict father, and he fed and clothed her for the majority of her adolescent life. But when it came to affection, he was lacking in that area, and in later years it made their relationship strained. Maybe that factor contributed to Cassandra's own inability to communicate her feelings. Coupled with his determination to hold her back from becoming an official royal guard, and well, he wasn't always her favorite person.

"You don't think this is complicated?!"

"I've been trying to avoid it being complicated for months, so yeah, now it's complicated. You wanted honesty, you got honesty," Cassandra reconsidered spending a night in the woods.

Rapunzel takes a deep breath, letting her exasperation subside. "Well, I'm glad you told me. I don't like when we keep secrets. Especially when they're about something so significant. You mean a lot to me, Cass. And since we're being honest, until today I never thought of you as more than a friend. I didn't realize I could. So I need some time to think about that. About us. Nothing has to change between us right now. I don't want it to. I like what I have with you, and the friendship we've built since I first met you. I hope all of this honesty helps bring us together, instead of driving us apart."

"I hope so too, Raps," she smiles, wistfully, knowing things will never fully be back to the way they were, when Rapunzel was naive to her feelings. "But what we need to focus on is the mission ahead. We can't afford to get distracted. It won't do either of us any good to dwell on what might have been," it's the same thing she tells herself every day, even if it fails to help her feel better about her situation.

"Right. You're right, Cass," she reaches across the table and offers her hand, and her best friend takes it tentatively. It's not the first time they've held hands, but this time, it feels more intimate. Cassandra trusted her with her whole heart, and in return, she asked for focus. Confessing her feelings must not have been easy, but Rapunzel is grateful everything is finally out in the open. It's been a long time coming.

They still have each other, as friends. Rapunzel thought that was all they needed, but now, she's not so sure. She suspects Cassandra dwells on what might have been, a lot, despite her insistence such frivolous thoughts are pointless. Her animosity towards Eugene makes more sense now, too. Whether or not she admits it, she's secretly jealous of him. Jealous of him living her dream.

Maybe this journey will give her the time she needs to sort through her newfound knowledge of Cassandra's inner struggle, and her own budding feelings for her best friend. There's still so much about the world she has to learn, and this revelation from Cass has opened up a whole new aspect of relationships she's never considered. Maybe Cassandra's dream doesn't have to stay a dream. Maybe, when they get back, there's a way to make this work.

They have time. There's always later.

Support this and other stories! https://ko-fi.com/gemology

[misterghostfrog]

The raven

A short story because I read a short story involving fae and thought ‘this is cute but it could be gayer and have more trans people in it’

---

I awoke as a raven.

It was certainly a new development, seeing as I was not originally a raven, or any sort of bird. And I was rather shocked I think, since people don’t usually fall asleep after a long days work and wake up with feathers and a beak

I tried to get someone's attention at first, perhaps one of the other ‘prentices would know how to handle a surprise bird curse. In the end I was chased out of the shop with a broom, which was hardly fair of course. Even if I had been a real bird, how would I have known not to go in the shop?

I cawed at the smith, who shooed me away. I yelled at the baker, who threw me some bread, a lovely fellow, that baker, even if it wasn’t any help. I tried the guards, who threw rocks at me and laughed, the bastards. And the tavern keeper, who hardly gave me a glance.

I poked at windows. Pecked at doors, and all in all tried very hard to get myself recognized as one who was not a raven.

In the end, I was deemed a regular feathered nuisance. And the tavern cook set about trying to catch me for a stew. He set a rather elaborate trap, which might have worked on a normal raven, but since I wasn’t one, I took one look at flew off. It was certainly something to hear the cursing behind me, i’d never known him to have such a foul mouth.

After that, I deemed them all too much trouble, and took to the woods.

I’d never been one to leave town before, content enough with my home and my work. Once i’d taken a rather arduous trip with the tailor to gather supplies in owlhaven. And it had very much put me off traveling for an awfully long time.

But now I was low enough on options that it was apparently my only recourse, which I found to be a shame. I did love Berk, despite its quirks, it's quite a lovely place.

I didn’t make a very good raven at first, it turns out they speak to each other in a rather complex language that for the life of me i couldn’t figure out. Not to mention I was terrible at flying, having grown up with arms and legs instead of wings.

The other ravens were surprisingly sympathetic to my plight, some having learned to speak our language long ago. Their words were halting and confused, but it was better than nothing.

I learned to fly from scratch, alongside the fledglings. Which I think the others found quite funny. Though with me flapping about like a madman, i'm sure anyone would.

It was two months before I realized i’d forgotten to wonder how it had happened at all.

I asked the ravens, but they had no clue. They’d met some like me, but they’d usually angered a witch, perhaps thrown a rock at her familiar. I myself was never one for throwing rocks at birds, so that wasn’t it.

I wandered to to the edge of town, I tried to ask the crone, but she could not understand me. I was a raven after all. And a ravens words tend to be rather bungled. Though she did give me some scraps, which was nice.

I tried the dogs, but they did not understand. I tried the cats, but they wished me harm. I tried the livestock, and they did not know.

In the end, I returned to the ravens quite lost. I told them I had asked everyone I could know to ask, and still I knew no reason I would become a raven.

One of the older ravens, most fluent in my language. Hopped closer, she peered at me. And gave me some advice.

“Deep in the forest, past the dark trees, there is a well. Old and overgrown. If one throws in a coin, they will find one who may answer their questions and grant their wishes. For a price.” ,the price is steep, she warns me. But perhaps he will take pity on a poor cursed child.

I did not ask about how she knew the being would be a man, or tell her I was no child. I thanked her, and was on my way.

The coin was arguably the hardest part, I had to pick a pocket, and while I can be sneaky. I was far clumsier as a bird, and my beak wasn’t that conducive to cutting purses. Not that I knew how to do that beforehand, of course.

In the end, I went for one of the guards. Drunk and nasty, wandering the streets. He wouldn’t miss a few coins, likely assume he’d had a bad night at gambling. And if I took more than I needed and replaced some with a few rocks? Well, who am I to say what he might have thought.

My prize in my beak and the rest stashed away, I ventured into the forest.

The journey was arduous. It was a long way from the ravens nests to my destination, and the coin was heavy in my beak. I stopped to rest frequently. And by the time I arrived at the well the moon was long since risen.

I’d perched on the edge of the well, long dried up, there was no water at the bottom. Only dirt and stones.

I dropped my prize, watching it clink down, down, down, into the well.

And then I waited.

I did not wait long.

“Now what strange little guest has dearest fate brought to me doorstep today” Said a voice from behind me.

I did not squawk, regardless of what you may have heard. I turned, with dignity, to the voice.

A handsome man, stood before me, tall and slim. His skin was dark and his hair pulled back. His ears, pointed, and his eyes shimmering with unnatural light.

A fae, then. I’d thought to myself, perhaps I should have known better than to trust a raven on magical matters. The fae do not steal ravens eggs out of nests, like they do human children, after all.

“I see” he’d said, after i’d failed to speak “Are you here to have me break your curse then? I wouldn’t worry too much about speech, I’ll understand you well enough”

I’d shaken my head, and I’d asked him my question. The question I had asked the ravens, the crone, the dogs, the cats, and the livestock.

Why was I a raven?

I did not anger a witch, I did not throw stones at birds, I made no deals, magical or otherwise, and I spent no time around strange stones with unknown powers.

He’d seemed surprised, at first. And then he’d laughed. “I cannot tell you where your curse came from, funny bird.” He’d said, voice full of mirth “Are you sure you don’t wish to return to your original form? It seems you have gone through a great deal of effort to simply ask a question” He’d leaned down to my level at that, his eyes met mine

I told him I had little reason too, I did not mind being a raven so much. I was never fond of my form before. He’d hummed, thoughtful.

“I’m sorry, I do not know why you bear this curse. And therefore I cannot help you” He’d said, and I had looked down, crestfallen. He’d help up a finger, tutting gently “But I may know someone who will.” He’d finished, and I had peered up once more. He smiled “But do understand, I do not do this for free. I must charge a price.”

I’d asked him what he’d wish for from me, a mere bird. And he’d laughed again

“Such a small thing, asking someone something. So for now I will only ask something small in return. I want one of your feathers” he’d said, gesturing to my wings. I was hesitant of course. But in the end, I accepted. Plucking out one of my own feathers, I held it out to him.

“Thank you, little bird. I shall be off now” He’d said, straightening up, tucking my feather away “I shall be back soon”

So I waited.

And I waited

And then he returned.

He approached easily from the trees in front of me, and crouched to my eye level once more,

“She said if you’re a firstborn, then perhaps your parents may know something” he’d said simply

I asked if that was it, and he shrugged

“A simple thing for simple payment, little bird” The fae said, smiling

I would have liked to say I was content with such an answer, but it’s hardly right to lie to a fae. He had laughed again

“It is all I have for you now, little bird. You should be on your way now, for the sun rises soon and your flock will begin to fuss if you don’t return soon.” He’d spoken softly, but the message was clear.

I took my leave.

I returned to my flock, as the fae had called them. And told them what i’d heard. They did not all understand, but those who did were disappointed with me.

I resolved to discover my parentage, and perhaps the answer to my question. So that evening, I took to the town again.

I asked the orphan keeper, who did not know what I said. I asked the oldest dog, who could not remember. And I asked the crone, less for for answers, since she could not understand, but more for the scraps. Which she gave freely.

And then once more, I went to the well.

The journey was easier this time, my wings were steadier. And though the coin weighed me down, I understood more of the balance.

Once more, I dropped the coin into the well, and once more. I waited.

And waited.

“Back so soon, little bird?” He’d asked as he’d emerged from the woods, his tone light. It had occurred to me at that moment how silly a nickname that was, for while I was a bird, i was hardly little. I was even considered big amongst the other Ravens. That hardly mattered in the moment though.

So I asked him if he could help me find my past, for it had been long missing.

“Straight to the point then I see” He’d said, looking almost amused. “Perhaps I could find it for you, but what would you give me in return?” He’d said, sitting down beside me “This is more than a feathers worth you know” His eyes had shone in the moonlight, reflecting like glittering stones. “Perhaps some memories would do? It seems fitting enough for the request”

I told him I did not wish to lose my memories, for I was not sure who I would be without them

“I would not keep them forever you know, I only wish to see.” He’d said, “Give me a day, a day with you memories. And then I will find the answer you seek”

I’d agreed. It seemed a good price to pay after all.

And then I forgot.

Not everything, of course, but enough.

I remembered many things. I remembered the ravens, of course. And the kindly old crone. I remembered the nasty guards and the cook who wished to make me up into a stew. I remembered the dogs who didn’t understand me and the cats who wished me harm.

But I had forgotten the tailors shop. The other prentices who were kind despite the fact that they often didn’t know what to do with me. The orphan keeper who’d been kind enough to get me a place there, since I was always fiddling with my clothes, enough she’d thought it an interest of mine.

I’d forgotten the time i’d spent with the other children, the plays we’d put on, where i’d always play a boy, no matter the game.

I’d forgotten my questions, though not their answers.

And with all that I’d forgotten, I admit I wasn’t much myself.

So I spent the day as a raven.

I dropped stones on the cook, when he went to check his trap. Which even then I knew better than to trespass near.

I swooped at the guards, who cursed and threw stones as I laughed and flew off. Cursing them right back.

I left presents for the crone a few pretty rocks and a coin from my stash, and I’d brought a coin to the baker, who’d called me a smart bird and given me a slice of bread.

I flew with the ravens, and could not remember why I did not understand them. I chased the squirrels, who tried to climb my favourite tree. And cawed at travelers on the road, just for fun.

Eventually, the sun began to set. And I made my way back to the well. For I did not remember much, but I remembered the fae. I remembered I had been made a promise, and I intended to collect my dues.

When I arrived at the well, the Fae was already waiting for me. He held out a hand, which I landed on easily.

“Hello, pretty bird” He’d said. There was something off about his voice, i’d thought. Though I knew not what. For I did not remember how to know.

“Back for your memories?” He’d asked. I did not answer. For I did not knoe how,

And then I remembered.

It was disorienting, to have spent a day as nothing more than a bird, only to remember I was once human. It took me a moment to reorient myself.

“Now,” he said, once i was fully myself again “would you like your half of the deal?” His face fell somewhat “I must warn you, the start of your tale is not a pretty one”

I’d told him I didn’t mind. For this was something I must know.

He’d nodded. And I learned my story.

It was not kind.

“Are you alright, little bird?” He’d asked, after I had sat for a good while.

I told him I wasn’t sure. Perhaps not. And he’d nodded.

“It's understandable. Regardless, did you at least find your answer in it?” He’d tilted his head as he’d asked, which I thought rather funny.

I told him I had.

“What will you do now?” He’d asked.

I told him I did not know.

“I’m sorry” He’d said. Which I think I appreciated.

I flew home soon after.

I visited the well often, after that. The fae was usually there. We would chat until the sun set, and then I would return to my flock.

I don’t think he’d expected it, the day i’d told him I did not want to be a raven anymore.

He’d asked me why, though I think he knew.

“A curse like that, the price will by steep, my little bird” He’d said gently, with me perched on his shoulder. “Are you truly sure?”

I told him I was, and I asked his price.

“Your name, I think.” He’d said.

I told him the name I had grown up with. And he’d paused

“That isn’t your name, my little bird” He’d sounded almost surprised.

I told him I knew no other names

“Then you do not know your own name” I’d watched his cheeks dimple with amusement, he was trying not to laugh. “How funny”

I’d pecked at him, telling him to focus. For if I did not know my name how could I be human again?

“I have a friend, who may be able to help” He’d said

He’d told me to hold tight, for the fae travel differently than most beings. It can be disorienting for one who’s never traveled with them before. So I dug my talons into his shirt, and off we went.

He brought me to a small cottage. Deep in the woods. It was lovely, well tended and homey. He took me to the front door, and knocked.

A small woman answered the door, dressed very neatly in a brightly colored dress. I’d heard of witches before, they were usually featured in stories as little hags in dark clothes in decrepit houses. She fit none of those criteria, though she gave off the air of most certainly being a witch.

“Back again so soon? I’d almost think you missed my company sir fairy” She’d said briskly, looking him over, after a moment she saw me “And you brought a friend? I see, do come in the both of you- i’ll put on some tea”

We were quickly ushered inside, and before I knew it we were sitting in a rather sweet looking kitchen. Each of us with a cup of tea. I explained my situation and the woman nodded along. Staring at me rather intensly the whole time.

“I see” She’d said when I was finished “Are you truly sure about this? Your name is not something to give away lightly”

I told her I was sure, and she’d nodded

“Alright then. I would like to have a private chat with our friend fae before we do this” She’d said, giving him a pointed look.

I’d agreed, and she’d sent me off to her study to wait.

I do not know what they talked about, only that when they finally made their way to the study, he looked rather like a child who’s recently been chastised.

“So” the witch had said, rubbing her hands together “You want to learn your name, a rather simple endeavor I think. For I have a very good idea of what's wrong”

She’d ushered me over to a table. Placing a very large book in front of me, opening it to the middle. I’d peered at the words, and then i’d looked up at her, confused.

“Read.” She’d told me. So I did

It took me longer than it should have, I think, to understand.

Once I did though, I witch had whisked the book away.

“Now, I think perhaps you should stay for the night, to think on this.” She’d said. It sounded less like a suggestion, and more like a command. So I had conceded.

The night was long. And I spent a great deal of it thinking instead of sleeping. Peering out the window into the witches garden. The fae had left some odd hours ago, and the witch had gone to bed almost immediately.

The next morning, the witch arose with the sunrise, fed me breakfast. And asked me a question

“Have you made your decision?”

I told her I had.

She sent me off then, and I flew home. I did not realize I knew the way, but I found myself back at the roost before I knew it.

I told the ravens of my plan, and they voiced their dislike. I would miss the roost, i thought.

I bade farewell to the crone, and the baker. I threw rocks at the cook, for old times sakes. And harassed the guards once more. I said goodbye to the dogs, who did not understand, and the cats, who wished me harm.

And then I went to the well.

I carried a coin in my beak, for that is how it is to be done.

The fae was not there when I arrived, which I had expected.

I dropped the coin in the well, and I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He emerged from the woods after what I thought to be far too long. I had told him as much, and he’d laughed.

“My apologies, my dear little bird. I had something I needed to prepare” He’d said, holding out a hand, which I landed on easily “I think, perhaps, I have found a better solution to your problem.”

I asked him what that might be.

And he told me.

I agreed immediately of course, for I could hardly say no to such an offer. And he’d smiled wide and bright.

“Do you know your name now then, my lovely bird?”

I told him I did. I was rather fond of it too, having chosen it myself.

Few people really know how a fae marriage works, its actually a rather simple thing. It involves an exchange of names, similar to how one might exchange rings. Although names are far more meaningful in my opinion. as it is giving a part of you to your love instead of just a simple metal band.

I awoke as a man.

It was a rather disorienting change, as i’d been a bird for long enough to have forgotten how most humans move about.

My husband was there, grinning as he held out a hand

“I think you’ll find I made a few small changes, that I thought you might appreciate” He’d said, as he’d pulled me to my feet, and I found that standing as a man is very different than standing as a bird. My husband had caught me, and he’d laughed.

I’d laughed too, and we stood there like fools together. Laughing until we were both out of breath.

“Are you ready to go then?” He’d asked, and i’d nodded, having yet to have properly found my voice.

And together we walked into the forest.

And we have lived together quite happily since.

END

[singlebecauseofthechocobros]

Reunion Chapter 7

<<Chapter 6

Word Count: 1,378

Lianna couldn’t remember a time in recent months when she wasn’t afflicted with nightmares. Couldn’t remember dreaming wonderful things rather than the moment she watched her home burn to the ground. She hadn’t slept through the night since the fall of Insomnia. She would wake up, her heart pounding and beads of sweat lining her forehead as she stared at the ceiling unable to move.

But now was different. Now she either dreamed good things or nothing at all, waking up without fear and most of the time with Gladio’s arms wrapped around her. It was a refreshing sense to feel. No pain, no sorrow; just him.

She was always the first to wake and how she managed to finagle her way out of his hold without waking him amazed herself. He could sleep through anything, which was all they did: sleep, both relying on the other for the company and comfort from their violent dreams.

It had only been a few weeks since the trip to Meldacio and Lianna had not felt as good as she did in a long time. There was a change in the shield as well; not so uptight and ridged, rather more go with the flow as she had remembered him to be.

Rising before him she dressed and showered then proceeded to her apartment’s kitchen to brew some coffee. She was normally always gone before he arose and that was perfectly fine by her. He needed the rest and it was best she didn’t have a reason to stay in all day.

Heading out and locking the door behind her, the princess left her abode and made her way to Dave’s weapons truck. When she arrived Jenica and a few other glaives were already there waiting for her. These meet ups had become almost like clockwork: same time, same place every morning.  Normally the sun would have been about halfway up in the sky under normal circumstances, but the darkness overtaking Lucis wasn’t normal. And with daemons morphing all across the land, the hunters had never been so busy.

So she and the others would go out, extinguish some daemons and were normally back a little past one, leaving Lianna time to work with Ignis on his post war efforts with Ravus. After insisting on helping, Ignis gladly took the princess up on her offer. Within the two weeks since she had been reunited with everyone, Lianna had made frequent trips to Meldacio to meet with the advisor. Although he offered to come to her, she always negated the idea in order for her own personal gain; that being she could see her friends.

For the most part it was as if everything was going well. Everything was falling into place and Lianna was comfortable. The only thing still bothering her was that she had yet to hear from her sister, Selene. Ignis talked about his communications with Ravus but never mentioned much of the Tenebrean queen.

So one afternoon, after discussing reconnaissance affairs Lianna announced her desire to travel to Tenebrae; the announcement bringing a bit of confusion to Ignis, Gladio, and Eve.

“Pardon,” Ignis asked, his eyebrows raising up in surprise.

“I think it would be beneficial to the cause to let the people know that the lineage of the Lucian throne is trying to help. Plus I would really like to see Selene.”  Looking to Gladio, he watched Li with a face full of concern.

“We all want to see her Li,” Eve spoke, “But the trip to Tenebrae is easier said than done. We would have to drive across Lucis only then to take a boat once at the sea and we don’t even know if there are any boats along the coast there for us to use. Or even if they are working.”

“Well then we can fly,” the princess countered, “We can take an airship and make it in half the time.”

“The ships we have here wouldn’t make the long travel,” Ignis replied shaking his head, “And even if they did we don’t have the fuel.”

“We can modify the fuel to run on meteor shards,” she answered.

“They still aren’t large or reinforced enough for the journey Li,” Gladio interjected.

Lianna scrunched her brows together and stood up, walking back and forth.  She needed to get the Tenebrae. She needed to see her sister and to take action in order to gain supporters for Noct’s return.  Suddenly she thought of something.

“What about an old Nif base?”

“What about it,” Gladio questioned.

“One of them would have to have an airship right?”

“It’s possible but not guaranteed,” Ignis thought, “From my interactions with the bases, most were just for large machinery and ammunition.”

“Yeah not much there when it came to aircraft,” Gladio added, remembering his and Ignis’s many run in’s with the forts.

“But there’s a chance,” Lianna inquired.

“Possibly,” Ignis answered, “But we would have to go out and check and that alone will be very dangerous.”

“Well then I’ll go alone,” Lianna decided.

“Absolutely not,” the three spoke in unison.

“We cannot risk your life,” Eve bluntly replied.

“If it’s just reconnaissance, then let me go and if I find anything well know! No need to put others on the line for me.”

“Li we aren’t going to allow that,” Gladio stated in a firmer tone.

“Putting yourself on the line is selfish,” Ignis spoke matter of factly, “If something happens to you what happens to the people who have already began to believe in this? To believe in the Lucian throne?”

Lianna pursed her lips together, hating that he was right. She sat back down, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest, “Well selfish or not we need to get over there too. I don’t see why this is more dangerous than a typical hunting mission.”

“It’s further than when you and your team go out and the closet base to you is a few hours’ drive,” Ignis responded, “If this was to be done it would require planning and a team of people more than capable of taking care of themselves.”

“Well we know plenty capable of such a thing,” the princess grinned, feeling a bit of optimism about the topic.  

“And they would go without you,” Gladio added.

“Absolutely not,” Lianna shot back, “I won’t ask people to do this on my behalf.”

“Well then consider this conversation over,” Ignis concluded, standing up, “We’re sorry Li, but we cannot afford to lose you too.”

Giving her an apologetic expression, the advisor turned and exited the room. Gladio leaned and gave the princess a kiss atop her head, and squeezed her hand before rising and following after his friend.  Lianna could feel her blood boiling insider her, anger over taking her as Eve sat watching the princess’s face turn red with rage.

“This is bull shit,” Lianna shouted, standing up and kicking over a small coffee table. The papers and things spread across the tabletop went flying as she watched the mess she made. How easy it had been for her to cause the structure and miscellaneous things to come tumbling down by her actions. Perhaps this is what Ignis meant. She played a significant role. One false move on her part could ruin everything Ignis had been building.  Taking a deep breath, the princess bent down and turned the piece of furniture back upright and began collecting the articles scattered across the floor.

Bending down with her, Eve began helping the princess clean up her mess.

“I can do this myself Eve,” Lianna sighed, “I’m not completely incapable.”

“No one thinks you’re incapable of anything Li,” the former bodyguard spoke, “Everyone just needs this to work, Ignis more than anyone. We want you to be safe.”

“I get it but I need to see her,” Lianna pleaded, “I know it’s selfish but up until recently I thought I lost all of my family. And now that I know that isn’t true I just need to see her. She’s my baby sister.”

Eve closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep breath, “They’re going to kill me if they find out.”

“Find out what?”

“That I’m going to help you.”

OC’s Mentioned:

Eve Leonis by @glaive-eve

Selene Lucis Caelum by @lucianhuntress

The Crew: @bleucommelhiver @sherniwrites @owldearest @promptoastandjam plus the two above lol

Chapter 8 WIP >

[youmakemebacon]

Saudade

Drabble Requests: “Marry fucking me” + “Just shut up and kiss me” || for anon and everybody

Characters: you x Jimin

Words: 4.3k 

While this can be a standalone, these events are primarily related to Facade (and Catharsis). Please check them out! 

He wakes up.

His head is pounding, and his body is both sore and lethargic. A small buzz at the back of his mind urges him to wake up and get moving – he does have a busy day ahead of him after all – however, he can barely lift a finger.

Surrendering to a simple state of lying here and breathing while his phone alarm dies out in the background, his mind wanders as the sun continues to rise.

There had been lots of flashing lights last night. That in itself had been coupled with loud music and so many voices; all of which had been speaking and exerting control over him. Then the drinks.

At the snowballing recollection of the overabundance in both colourfully mixed concoctions, and one too many shots, Jimin groans. He remembers exactly what had happened last night.

His friends had collected him after work yesterday and had suggested that they go clubbing.

“You’ve got to relax and take a break from ‘adulting’ sometimes!” they had urged him.

His tolerance was well known – or rather his lack of it – and true to his speculations, he had started to feel quite the buzz after his second shot. However, his friends, being the great friends they are, continued to nudge and offer glass after glass. That had been the first bad decision of that night.

The second came when he had been left alone at the table while everybody had gone off either to grab new drinks for him or themselves. His own glass had been left on the table in empty loneliness. He stared it with unfocused eyes for a while, then had stood up because he was unable to bear just how alone the glass looked. It was then that he heard it.

“Marry fucking me!”

He swiveled his head to the side and watched as a young man knelt on a table with his arms raised above his body. His comical pose reminded Jimin of Rafiki from The Lion King when he offered up baby Simba above Pride Rock; this causes him to giggle hysterically.

Jimin catches his breath in time to see that the man had yelled the three words again towards a similarly young-looking woman who had tried to cover her face in embarrassment. He can barely make out the couple as the two had gathered an audience, and the crowd hollered in unison enthusiastically for the woman to give an answer.

Jimin couldn’t recall whether he had heard her reply, as he had at that moment suddenly been hit with an overwhelming sense of guilt and longing. By the time he is clear headed enough to actually think through his decision, he had already taken out his phone and pressed the only number on speed dial. Waiting patiently, he had dared not to speak until there had been an answer.

Doubt clouded his mind. However, when the person had picked up, he gushed out immediately, “I love you.”

There had been a small pause before he heard the response of “Thank you. But Park Jimin, you’re drunk.” Then, a long monotonous flat buzz had filled his ears.

He groans at that last memory; his fist clenching under the covers as his eyes finally open for him to stare at the ceiling. That certainly had not been the response he would have wanted after a confession like so. Nevertheless, he convinces himself it is understandable considering just how out of it he had been last night. Beside him on the table, his phone alarm rings. This time he promptly picks up the device and turns it off.

The feelings of guilt from last night resurface, and he does his best to push them out and away.

6:45am – he had fifteen minutes to prepare for work before his chauffeur would arrive to pick him up.

As he gets up from the bed, the right side of his body shivers from being out of his warm sheets. The left side, however, reacts as if there had been no difference in temperature at all. He is not surprised as when he looks down, he sees sheets that are straight and made beside where he had lain all last night.

With a long sigh, he trudges away from his bed while thinking about the empty space where you should have been.

“Good morning, Sir,” his chauffer greets him the moment he steps outside his building.

Jimin nods and gives a small smile as his own sign of greeting.

The man holds the door open for Jimin as he gets in. “Aspirin and a bottle of water have been provided for you like you had requested,” he says.

“Thank you,” Jimin responds and then closes the door.

The car ride to work is quiet.

One, due to the fact that his headache had yet to subside so he avoided any type of loud noises including conversation. Two, Jimin is deep in thought.

Perhaps he should call you again this morning. It would be irresponsible of him to make a call to you last night in such a manner, and then not do anything about it afterwards. He feels as if you are owed at least some type of explanation. With a grimace, he brings a hand to his temples and rubs it. He can’t conclude if the alcohol had been a good push of confidence or rather detrimental to the relationship he had with you. He makes slow progress regarding this conflict the entire time he is sitting at the back of the vehicle.

“Sir, we have arrived.”

Jimin has his thoughts interrupted.

“One moment,” he says after a pause.

Taking his phone out, he presses the speed dial. You pick up after a long while of ringing on his end.

“What do you want, Park Jimin?” you ask, fatigue unconcealed in your voice.

He hates when you use his full name like so. It puts so much distance between the two of you.

“I’m wondering if you had time to meet up today. Lunch, perhaps?” he suggests.

“Lunch?”

“Yes. Lunch. I finish my meeting around 1pm today. Shall I come and – ”

“I’m busy,” you cut into his question.

He clears his throat nervously and is mute in thought. You are more irritated than usual and he doesn’t understand why. Did his words from last night impact you in some way? For some reason, this thought ignites a small flame of hope within him.

“How about earlier then? We could go even go for brunch! Let’s say… at that place across from the park with all the statues. You’ve always said you wanted to try their eggs benedict and salmon. I could try and get out of my meeting earlier, and then I’ll – ”

“No,” is the word spoken curtly into the receiver against his ear.

There is a long silence before he speaks again, “Okay. No that’s – I mean – Yes. Alright. I understand.”

He hears the slightest sigh on your end.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice different from before; quieter and more controlled, “But if that’s what you called me for, I’ll have to hang up now. Like I said, I’m busy.”

You don’t give him enough time to say his own goodbyes before he hears the familiar tone of emptiness on your end.

Jimin ends the call as well, but he does it with a heavy heart and disappointment. He can tell that you are frustrated with him, however, he cannot understand fully why. Things between the two of you had started to look better these past few months, but then you had suddenly started distancing yourself away from him. Right when you had begun to return to him; right when he had brushed you with his fingertips; you had disappeared...again.

Stepping out of the car, bile rises within his throat and he can barely choke it back down. The sun is shining bright and hot above him, scorching his back in his black suit. Glass windows of his building reflect harsh beams into his eyes, and there is the humid, lung-compressing smell that filters in the air around him after last night’s thunderstorm.

“Sir, are you okay?” his chauffer peers from behind his darkened lens while extending his hand.

He holds out his own, indicating that he does not need other support. His body sways without his control. He takes a deep inhale and slowly allows the air escape.

“I’m not okay, but let’s go. We’ve got a long day.”

You leave the building feeling more nauseous even though you had already thrown up twice inside. Your back carries a dull ache, and now you understand why none of your shoes had seemed to fit this morning when you left the house. While you shuffle to the taxi stop, you pass by a street vendor that you often frequent.

“Y/N!” the owner yells, “How are you doing?”

You give her a smile and a slight wave. However, when the wind carries over the scent of grilling sausages and other meats, you immediately bring your hand over your mouth and gag.

“Y/N?” the owner runs over and offers an arm.

Placing a hand over it to support yourself, you swallow deeply with pressed eyes. The nausea passes, and you weakly pat her arm.

“I’m fine,” you try to reassure her, but even you can tell that there is something very off with your voice. You look up to see a taxi pull up to the curb. “I need to catch my ride. I’ll see you again.” Without another word, you get into the taxi.

After giving the driver your address, alongside requesting that he drive a little slower than usual due to your frequent bouts of phantom vomiting, you settle down into your seat. You clench your purse securely over your stomach and press it firmly against your body.

You are still unable to wrap your mind around the entire situation. They had said that the chances had been less than 20%. You had not even bothered to try and harbour any type of hope when the idea was first suggested. But now… Now that idea is no longer simply something that had been conjured up in the mind; it has become your reality.

While you know you are supposed to feel ecstatic and completely over the moon, you also feel a sense of foreboding dread. How are you supposed to reveal the news? Should you even do it?

“Hey miss, you’re looking a little pale. Do you need me to pull over so you can throw up or something?” the driver asks from the front.

“No, you don’t need to. I’m just... confused, that’s all,” you share without meaning to.

“Confused?” he repeats.

“It’s nothing,” you say, trying to brush the subject off.

“Oh, don’t be like that. We’ve still got a few minutes until we arrive and it’s not good to keep things bottled up inside,” he pushes. He seems to have sensed your hesitance as he quickly ushers an apology followed by a bottle of water.

There is silence in the car again when you take a sip. The liquid is cold and soothes your heated body. You know it’s not good to keep things bottled up, but there are not a lot of people you would feel comfortable sharing this with. Then again, perhaps this driver is the right person – you don’t know anything about him and he clearly doesn’t know you either.

Clearing your throat, you speak, “Say you have some important news, would you share it with your parents?”

The driver ponders. “Depending on its importance, yes.”

“Okay, um, how about if you’re planning to switch jobs?”

“No, too many questions.”

“You’ve been promoted.”

“Also no, because even more questions.” Pause. “Wait, yes. Then they’ll finally be proud of me.”

His answer makes you slightly smile. “Then…the company has gone bankrupt.”

“Definitely not. In my opinion, I don’t like sharing with my parents about my job. I mean, it’s not like I’m the CEO of some large company y’know?”

The smile dims on your face.

“Something happen at work?” The car swerves around the corner and you recognize your neighbourhood.

“No.”

“Oh. Then why are you confused about telling your parents about things related to your job?”

“I’m not confused about that.” You produce a dry laugh. “That’s probably the one thing I’m never confused about. It’s something else.”

“I see. Well if it’s any consolation, there are a bunch of things I wouldn’t tell my parents. My wife, on the other hand, I wouldn’t hesitate to share,” he says.

“Really? Why?” it is your turn to ask.

“She’s seen me through my ups and downs so I know I can count on her to help me through whatever it is I’m struggling with. I trust her,” he replies. The car pulls to a stop in front of your house.

You reach into your wallet and hand him the correct amount of bills.

He hands you back one. “For a rather…thought-provoking conversation.”

Your hand covers his fingers and pushes it back towards him. “Then for being a patient and accountable listener,” you say with a kind upturn of your lips. He returns your smile and nods.

After you finish walking across your lawn with dotted flowers and well-kept topiary, you pause in front of the hulking mahogany doors. The driver calls from the cab.

“I hope you figure out whatever you’re confused about!” he hollers.

You give him a final wave and mouth your gratitude before he drives off. Then you are once again left to the distant chirpings of birds, the whisperings of the wind, and the envelope of your own thoughts.

The heavy doors close soundly behind him, and he sighs deeply at the return to home. His fingers linger over the buttons of his jacket as the events of the day continue to preoccupy his mind.

All the meetings ran well; he had secured a new client and the current projects are all proceeding without any problems. He had also received the good news of possibilities to extend the company’s business internationally.

To any other person, they would have entered their house with a large smile and celebratory spirits. Yet to him, he only feels extremely fatigued. This is all because of…

you.

You walk across in front of him, holding a large bowl of salad heading from the kitchen into the dining room. Whether you had noticed him at all, he cannot tell.

Nevertheless, you are here. You in your pink, airy blouse and loose-fitting shorts; you with the slightly damp hair piled on your head hastily; you smelling of shampoo and a hint of the magnolia cream you like to pat on your neck after your shower.

You: embodying the reason of his love and the completion of his purpose.

“What are you doing here?” he directs the question into the air when you exit the dining room.

You stop and raise an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed in my own house?” you inquire.

My own house. “I thought you were busy,” he dumbly follows.

“I am. But everybody still needs to eat so here I am. Take off your jacket; dinner will be ready soon,” you tell him, and whirl back into the kitchen.

His mind is empty as he fumbles with the buttons. You had been so angry with him. You had refused to see him at all; barely even wanting to talk. He had not expected you at all.

He hears a sigh of frustration.

As you mutter about his sluggish movements, your fingers pry off his so that you could push the buttons out from the holes. Reaching up, you take the collar in your hand to slide the jacket off from his shoulders.

He grips your hand.

Looking up, you are met with a set of intense ebony orbs that captivate your own. They tug and pull at you, succeeding when you find yourself too weak to resist. His rounded lips glisten and you hear the faintest increase of breathing when you take a step closer. He lowers your hands to your side and presses his forehead against yours.

The two of you breathe. 

“I’ve missed you” he whispers.

Yes, he is definitely breathing harder, and knowing this makes your own heart thud desperately and angrily in your chest.

“And I love you,” he continues in his soft voice, “with all of my heart, and soul, and being. I just want you to know that.”

The air that leaves his lips brush over your nose, leaving the area strangely sensitive. The house is quiet, as the two of you stand at the doorway. Thoughts create bubbles within your stomach while your mind struggles to form them into cohesive words and sentences. You struggle to break free of them mentally.

“Y/N?”

You close your eyes, and for a while you continue to press against him wordlessly. Then, you release your hands from his hold and move your body away to widen the distance from him.

He feels the slightest of trembles against his cheek when your fingers rest against his skin.

“I know,” you breathe out shakily, “I love you too.”

A multitude of emotions flit across his face, but then they settle and a small smile forms. It increases as you draw his face down towards your own, and press your lips delicately against his.

His hands press firmly on your hips as he makes the gap between the two of you disappear.

Your hands travel from his cheeks to the back of his head where they become entangled in his soft locks. Then they move to the collar of his jacket and this time he allows you to take it off, all the while still muttering sweet whispers of “I love you” between his kisses.

He grabs your thigh and loops them securely around his waist. With a hand against your back, he carries both himself and you to the couch where he lays you down. His lips momentarily leave yours to gently caress the area around your neck where he knows is your most sensitive.

You sigh shakily and tilt your head to the side while his fingers work busily on your shirt. Intertwining your ankles on his back, you draw him deeper onto your body. He finds his way back to your lips and bite them after hearing you say his name.

The last button is unfastened, giving him the chance to brush the material of your blouse away from you. Your body tremors while he looks at you from above, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow and his lips swollen from kissing you.

The familiar scent of his cologne wafts into your nose when he lowers himself again, and sends butterfly kisses that start from your collarbone to continue down. The sound of your uneven breathing prompts his confidence to transform the light marks to ones that are harsher and darker.

You feel your desire for him grow and so you grip his hair tighter within your palm. Your muscles are quivering in anticipation. It isn’t until you feel the pressure of his hands and lips on your lower abdomen that you jolt out of the sensual pleasure he is giving you. You are reminded of why you had been upset at him earlier in the day.

“Jimin,” you say.

He hums, not noticing the firm tone you say his name with, and places more kisses on the inside of your thighs.

“Jimin, stop,” you raise the volume of the two words.

He instantly does.

He looks up and sees that the previous lust has been replaced. You are not meeting his eyes and he feels a sense of turmoil from you.

Stuttering, he asks, “W-What is it? Did I do something wrong?”

You shake your head. The voice of the taxi driver returns as a passing gust against your ears.

He takes a seat beside you, and runs a hand through his hair. Now he is frustrated again.

Turning to him, you hold his eyes calmly to prepare him for the words you are about to say. You nearly cave in your decision to simply return to the thoughtless, passionate love-making from before when you see his opened shirt and flushed cheeks. However, you cannot.

He does not catch it the first time you say them.

“Sorry?” he comes closer.

“I’m…” you say, the second word swallowed by the large space of the room. Everything - the carpets, the furniture, the tables - in the room is suddenly much further than usual. They loom over you in comparison, and you feel swallowed like Jonah by the whale. 

“You’re…” he repeats. He sees that you are not making any movements so he reaches out and takes your hand.

There is so much warmth from the small action. 

I trust her. You trust him. 

“I’m pregnant.”

The sentence hangs in the air above the two of you.

He watches as tears start to glitter and bead the corner of your eyes.

“Jimin, there’s a baby growing inside of me. I’m going to become a mother…and you a father.”

He cannot comprehend the depth of the words as he remembers why you had been so angry this morning with him. Yesterday, he had been supposed to go with you to see the results at the baby center but then had had to cancel due to an over-running meeting. He had promised that the two of you would go instead the morning after, but he had completely forgotten. You had even given him a chance for redemption, however, he blew that and had stupidly asked you out for lunch at that time instead.

“We’re going to be parents,” he states.

You nod, laughing slightly at the dumb expression of shock on his face and the release from your previous bundle of nerves. “Yes, we are.”

Sitting back, he absent-mindedly runs the pad of his thumb over your hands on his lap. “They said the chances were so low. I didn’t… I didn’t expect anything at all,” he says his thoughts out loud.

“Me neither.” You squeeze his thigh.

“I’m so sorry!” he suddenly gushes. He turns to you. His hand hovers over the area of your belly, but he doesn’t touch you. It is as if he is suddenly afraid to do so.

“Why are you sorry?” you ask incredulously.

“I’m sorry! For staying out all night yesterday, and then forgetting about the appointment this morning. I’m sorry that you had to go there all by yourself and feel anxious while getting the results. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me!” he babbles.

“Jimin – ”

“What’s going to happen now? We’re going to be parents! We’ll need a bigger house for the baby. You should stop going to work. It will be too strenuous for you!”

"Honey, I’m still going to go to work; at least for a few more months. And this house is perfectly fine to raise a child in. It’s always been too big for the both of us.”

“Are you feeling okay right now? Do you need anything to drink or eat? Did I cause you any pain from earlier? I know you’re going to have morning sickness, and even though it’s the evening, do you feel like vomiting at all? How about food? Should I go and – ”

“Jimin, breathe,” you interrupt him, “You’re panicking.”

He clamps his mouth close and listens to you.

“We can deal with all of that later when the time comes. Right now, there is only one thing you can do for me,” you say.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Just shut up, and kiss me.”

A large pizza box lies half open on the floor beside the bed. The strong, aromatic smell of greasy cheese and meats fill the air of the room as the two of you lie side by side. His palm rests against your belly while his chest supports your head. One of your hands is placed on top of his on your stomach, and the other has its fingers threaded through his. A light breeze blows through the windows and caresses your bare shoulders; serene peace washes over your body as you feel the heat of his skin against yours. You snuggle deeper against him, satiated and satisfied.

“The pizza was a good choice, wasn’t it?” The question more of a statement than anything.

“How did you know I’d want it?” you return back.

“You always want pizza,” he teases you.

“No I don’t!” you sit up and protest, thinking he is already joking about food cravings. You then realize that he is not referring to your pregnancy but another reason.

You stick out your tongue before settling back into your previous position, colour rising to your cheeks.

Taking his hand out from beneath yours (the one on your belly never moves), he slips it beneath his head to prop himself up. There, he looks warmly down at you. “What should we name the baby?” he asks.

You shrug.

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

You shrug again. “What would you like?”

“A boy,” he replies, “Imagine a mini-me.”

Chuckling you say, “What a handful. I can barely handle one of you.”

He also laughs. “But another one of you? That’s also too much.” He kisses the top of your head before you can get up and glare at him.

The two of you sit in silence. Jimin experiences the overwhelmingly strong emotions of guilt and longing from last night again. However, this time other emotions also fill him. He feels so grateful that you are beside him, and that you are as happy as he is to start a family together with him. All the worries about the company and his family are trifle next to the need to keep you and the baby you carry safe and healthy. Nothing else matters besides having you next to him, forever like this. He never wants to sleep without you by his side.

Oh, how he loves you.

“This is all too good to be true,” he exhales in disbelief after a moment, “All of this. You lying here with me… Our baby… Us… What did I do to deserve all of it?”

“Nothing,” you murmur softly beneath him, “And you’re right. This is all too good to be true.”

Jimin stiffens. He removes himself to regard you fully. You look back at him with sad eyes and an empty smile.

“This is all too good to be true,” you repeat wistfully.

Jimin shakes his head, but there is not much he can do besides that as the sun rises and you disappear.

He wakes.

A/N: Thank you all for loving Facade and Catharsis so much! So many of you have left feedback regarding whether Y/N and Jimin could be together, have children, getting married again etc. I hope this satisfies your requests! As of now, I have no plans on writing any more for this series (but who knows!). In the meantime, stop by our masterlist!

MASTERLIST

[missingverse]

Missing Chapter Eleven

Notes for this chapter: As I am not from America and Hey Arnold is, a lot of research has gone into the next few chapters when puzzling out locations, but I will probably still get some details wrong. If you notice anything really off, please let me know in the comments.

Also, I have not seen the Jungle Movie yet but I'm hearing good things. Lovely.

…..

Three weeks until:

Waking up was a challenge; actually getting up once she was awake was even worse. The sun trickling through the curtains was stinging her eyes and she had slept with her shoulder at an odd angle, it ached.

Once Helga managed to lift her head off the pillow, she noticed that not only had she been drooling again, but the drool was foamy! Was that normal?

Her arms and legs were heavy, she rolled over with difficulty and picked up her cellphone.

Pheebs, I'm not coming in today.

Thank goodness for predictive text, her fingers wouldn't move the way she wanted them to.

Why not?      

I'm sick.

Again?You really need to see a doctor.

Yeah, with whose money?

Free clinic is two bus rides and

I can barely get out of bed.

Ask Patrick's mom to bring you. You know she would.

I can ask my mom when she gets home from work.

It's fine, I'll try and sleep it off

and see how it is later. It's probably

just the flu.

Flu doesn't last this long, Helga.

All right, I'll think about it and

call you later.

She dropped the phone and attempted to get up. She couldn't remember going to bed the night before; the last thing she remembered was getting halfway through her Social Studies report. She stumbled to the bathroom to wash the drool off her face.

Miriam wasn't up yet; Helga heard her thick snoring from what used to be Olga's room. Bob was definitely gone to work, the sink was clogged with shaving foam and stubble.

She leaned into the mirror and poked at the skin under her right eye. It was still marked from where she'd blackened it. Telling everyone it was a baseball injury was marginally less embarrassing than admitting she'd had a dizzy spell and fallen into a door (like anyone would believe that when it was known as the go-to excuse of beaten wives and battered kids).

She turned on the shower and made to get undressed, and then she realized just how bad she was; apparently she'd been so out of it she'd put on her nightgown back to front.

…..

Dawn was just tiptoeing up in the sky when Arnold was rather brutally woken up by a knee in his stomach. He opened his eyes to see Helga thrashing in her sleep, trying to push him away from her but just pushing herself closer to the wall. A small distressed whine was rising in her throat.

“Helga....Helga!” he groaned, still half asleep and a touch winded.

He shook her by the shoulder gently and she stilled, slowly blinking awake.

“You were having a nightmare,” he told her.

“Yes, I was,” she replied. She was damp with cold sweat.

Being this close, it was remarkable how human she looked for a ghost. He could count individual eyelashes, the faint freckles under her skin, the trembling of her lip that indicated she was still upset but trying to hide it.

“You wanna talk about it?” he pressed, scooting to the edge of the bed so she wouldn't feel trapped.

“Not really,” she mumbled, turning so she was lying on her back. “But I probably should, right?”

“Not if you don't want to.”

“There was something around my neck.”

Now cold sweat started beading on Arnold's skin under his t-shirt.

“What kind of something?” he asked cautiously. “A hand?”

“No, not a hand,” she murmured, stroking her throat thoughtfully. “It was cold. And heavy.”

That could be anything, but Arnold's mind helpfully supplied some images.

Jewelry.

A thick rope.

A chain.

Something sinkable if you tossed it in water.

Concrete.

“It's probably nothing,” Helga demurred, but she didn't sound convincing.

Arnold threw back the covers and got to his feet, booted up his computer.

“Maybe you should come with us to school today,” he suggested, pulling up the latest headlines. “Just a distraction. Things have been getting really heavy lately...”

“Maybe,” she agreed, but she had turned over in the bed, facing the wall. Away from him.

They had hit a dead end. They had where Helga had gone last and why she was there, but Officer Plaskett was certain Bob Pataki hadn't been involved in her disappearance.

He wouldn't have wanted to lose his only source of real income Arnold thought sourly.

But that left them with nothing else. Nowhere to go. Part of him was a little glad though, because it was just now occurring to him that if they discovered what happened to her, ghost Helga would have no reason to stay and he had grown very used to having her around.

“Wanna hear some news?” he asked.

“Sure, why not?” she replied, still facing the wall and a little muffled by the pillow.

“Lena Montclare has been slammed for inflammatory tweets about her fans,” he began.

“What kind of news is that?” she said, turning over to look at him. “Who's Lena Montclare?”

“Remember that Netflix movie you watched while I was out? She played the sister.”

“Oh. She was awful in that.”

“She's just awful in general.”

“What else is there?”

“Seven reasons JimBob Saves Christmas doesn't need a reboot....Massive shipment of Lego bricks runs aground on Kettle Beach.... Golden couple Ray Harkness and Mona Washington rocked by rumours of infidelity...Pocaselas cheer team make the nationals....”

Helga sat up suddenly.

“What was that last one?” she asked, a high note rising in her voice.

“What? Pocaselas cheer team....” he answered.

“Pocaselas. What is that?”

“Uh, it's a city two states over, I think.”

Pocaselas was barely a city, more like a halfway point for people on their way to somewhere better. It was full of motels, hotels and trans-state bus lines. Arnold had been stranded there once for seven hours when trying to get to Montana for a concert when he was thirteen. He hadn't even tried to go to a concert since.

“I know that place. I keep seeing the name,” she said, rubbing at her temple (just under her scar).

“Seeing it? Where?” Arnold asked, typing the word into Google.

“In my dreams. It's printed on something.”

“Like a newspaper or a street sign?”

“I don't know, it's hazy.”

Pocaselas was unremarkable; Google brought up basic info about annual rain fall, bus timetables, some mommy blogger's website....

….until about three entries down in the search and the only real reason anyone knew that Pocaselas even existed.

The Black Gulch Ripper.

…..

In the early nineties, Pocaselas became known as a hive for young runaways and working prostitutes, who were sometimes one and the same. For any young person looking to disappear, it was a good option. There were lots of short-term places to stay, lots of abandoned buildings to squat in when the money ran out, and plenty of truckers and blow-ins to keep the working girls in business.

When women began going missing, nobody thought much of it. People left Pocaselas all the time, especially runaways. There were a lot of cases where a john was robbed by a working girl who fled town on the first bus in any direction. So nobody could really pinpoint who the first victim was.

The first victim found, however, was 26-year-old Elisa Frank. She appeared in the Black Gulch on the edge of the city, discovered by a local fisherman, and was so bloated and disfigured it was near impossible to see what had been done to her. Her throat had been cut, and a good number of internal organs were missing.

A girl who had frequently worked the same stretch of highway as Elisa turned up next, not in the Gulch itself but just beside it. Sarah May Caldwell's throat had also been cut but only her heart and lungs were missing. Police arrested the girl's pimp for their murder but he was released without charge (and then picked up again and sent down for three years for soliciting.)

As many as a hundred girls had been reported missing; with the ones that hadn't been reported the number would have been closer to three hundred. Three more bodies were found in the Gulch in the same state as Elisa and Sarah May, but it was near impossible to tell who could be considered the culprit's next victim just looking at the missing reports.

By the time four more bodies appeared in the gulch, a pattern had emerged. They were all young women; the oldest was thirty-four and the youngest nineteen. They were blondes, mostly (Tegan Nicholls was biracial with curly dark hair and Annette Fischer was a redhead) and they were between five foot and five seven. Several of them were heroin addicts and three on some other narcotic, which the police theorized made them easier to capture, and most were prostitutes but two were mere runaways.

The newspapers gave the killer the nickname everyone used. He would go quiet for two to three year stretches and then come back with a new body, and there was a grim sense that the press had been waiting for him because it was the only kind of interesting news you got in a place like Pocaselas.

There had been theories that the Black Gulch Ripper was behind Helga Pataki's disappearance, but it was dismissed as nonsense. For one, Helga was much younger than the killer's usual M.O. He also concentrated his attacks in the Pocaselas general area, and the difference between that city and Hillwood was two states and a mess of highways and sideroads. The roads in and out of Hillwood had speed cameras that had picked up nothing beyond the usual traffic.

It was entirely possible to reach Pocaselas on foot through the forest that ran from Hillwood through the interim state to the edge of the city, but that was only if you managed to avoid swamps full of water moccasins, treacherous sinkholes and the occasional bear. It was said only a madman would attempt it.

…..

“You're not ready yet?” Phoebe said as he opened the bedroom door to her, still in his pyjamas.

“We might have got something,” he told her, ushering her in. “I'll tell you on the way to school, I just need to shower.”

Her attention wasn't on him though; she was looking in the general direction of Helga, sitting on his bed.

“I can kind of see her,” she said, a smile slowly growing. “The air is kind of blurry, like when there's gas in the air.”

“That's good,” he said.

“I have a new notebook for you,” Phoebe said, ignoring Arnold entirely. “I missed your last few birthdays, I owed you a new one.”

“Wow, thanks Pheebs,” Helga said, taking the notebook.

“Did you hear anything? She thanked you,” Arnold told her, and Phoebe's face fell.

“No,” she mumbled. “But it's okay, she can write to me with the notebook.”

Arnold left them there, and throughout his shower he could hear the low murmur of Phoebe talking and Helga answering, although he knew anyone else listening would just hear the sounds of a girl talking to herself. He got out, dressed and just as he was about to come back in, he heard something that made him linger outside.

“....has to know something, doesn't he? I mean, you ended up in his house...”

Helga muttered a reply he couldn't hear and through the crack in the door he saw her scribble out a response and hand over the notebook. Phoebe read it and rolled her eyes.

“If not now, then when?” she said. “Back then you told me you were over it, but you're obviously not.”

Helga scribbled out another response, and at this one Phoebe looked like she wanted to cry.

“What's the point?” she half-laughed. “You tell me! Maybe the reason you're back is nothing to do with how you died, you know? Maybe that's not the right kind of closure....”

They both lapsed into silence, and Arnold felt it was okay to come back inside. He watched Helga slam the new notebook shut when he came back in.

“You ready to go?” he asked.

…..

Helga ultimately decided not to join them, and for the first few minutes of the walk to school Phoebe was silent. Until....

“...why is she in your bed?”

“What?” Arnold sputtered.

“She's in your bed now,” Phoebe continued. “She was on the sofa and now she's not. Why?”

“I had to tell her about the memory stick,” Arnold said with a sigh. “She was pretty upset, and I was worried.”

“So she ended up in your bed because she was upset?”

“I can understand why you're worried, but nothing happened. At least until this morning.”

Phoebe stopped dead in the street and grabbed his arm, turned him around.

“What happened this morning?” she demanded, cheeks turning pink with anger.

“She had a nightmare,” Arnold explained.

The colour drained from Phoebe's face, and she looked abashed.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “I guess I'm still a bit peeved that you can see her and I can't, but I shouldn't take that out on you. How does she look to you?”

“Like herself, but older,” Arnold shrugged. “Speaking of....do you remember any kind of scars Helga had before she went missing?”

“Scars?” Phoebe questioned, thoughtful. “Um...she had one on her elbow from where she broke her arm and the bone went through skin. And she kept saying she had one under her eye from when she blackened it but I think she was just hyper-focused on it...”

“Wasn't that the one her Dad gave her?”

“That was just a rumour, Arnold,” Phoebe sighed. “She ran into a door because she was dizzy and she didn't want to tell anyone because someone would spread rumours. Which they did anyway.”

“Oh,” was all Arnold could think to say. He'd bought into that rumour, they all had.

“Why are you asking? Does she have different ones?”

“Yeah,” Arnold said, and took a deep breath before continuing. “She has a big one, on her head. Looks like she was hit with something big and heavy. There's one on the back of her leg too.”

Phoebe blanched even more.

“And there's one more, a really long one...it goes from her hip to her chest. It looks kind of deep too.”

“Her hip to her chest? How do you know about that one?” Phoebe asked.

“Come on, Phoebe...” Arnold groaned.

“How do you know about that one?” Phoebe growled.

“I looked, okay? She was asleep and I saw the edge of it from under her t-shirt so I took a look.”

“You goddamn perv-”

“There was nothing sexy about it if that's what you're worried about,” Arnold muttered. “I don;t know about you but looking at knife wounds doesn't get me hot under the collar.”

Once again, Phoebe's anger faded.

“Sorry,” she mumbled again. “She used to complain when boys paid attention to her... I guess I'm still a bit protective.”

“It's okay,” Arnold shrugged. “It's nice, actually. Nice to see you trying to look after her even after all of this.”

“Just repaying the debt. I would have been eaten alive at school if it wasn't for Helga.”

Phoebe had forgotten to ask what the new thing they had discovered was, and by the time they reached the school he had debated with himself over and over about telling her.

The Black Gulch Ripper flashed in his mind, over and over.

In the end, he decided it could wait.

[whydoiloveyouanyway-blog]

A rough continuum of affection

@pennyinheaven’s post teasing apart the different strands of how Ryuuzaki actually feels about Yashiro has inspired me to set out a rough, highly disputable, but at least organized continuum of how “Saezuru” characters feel towards Yashiro, from love all the way to hate. (What’s rough and highly disputable is not just the characterizations of people’s feelings, but also their ordering as closer to or further from paradigmatic love and hatred.)

Doumeki is in love with Yashiro, of course. With (unusually) extra helpings of both possessiveness and “I will not just do anything for you (protect you with my body, apologize to someone I think badly of and resent because he’s the closest you have to family and then ask him to visit you in the hospital because I think it might help you wake up), but also do anything you suggest, saunas in Ueno, porno called ‘The Impotent Cop Sets His Sights on Gaydom,’ whatever.”

Unnamed Hirata subordinate who wears dog-tags and at least one past subordinate of Yashiro’s at least thought that they were in love with Yashiro, though from what we can see it was a relatively shallow love in the former case at least.

Misumi loves Yashiro but has never been in love with him. He loves him in a way that has elements of paternal (“something like Yashiro’s foster parent”) and fraternal care and responsibility, residual sexual attraction and possessiveness (in a straight line from “I’m the one who owns you” to “I know everything about you” and “become mine once more, Yashiro”), a friendship of many years’ standing, and the peculiar pride a boss takes in his most capable subordinate in an extremely hierarchical, honor/face-based culture in which subordinates’ and bosses’ reputations reflect on each other (Japan but more particularly yakuza). He found Yashiro intriguing from the beginning, more so when he observed the sole exception to Yashiro’s deep “hatred of humanity”, and in the present considers himself useless when it comes to that troublesome guy, relating to him differently than to others because he is so charmed by Yashiro. Even when insulting him, he remembers and uses Yashiro’s favored term “pervert” rather than “okama” or “homo,” epithets which Yashiro had rejected. From the beginning he tries to help Yashiro get along with other people because he simply likes him as a person, even though he also despairs of him frequently – or more like constantly (“a cute guy with no ambition,” “don’t disappoint me,” “oh, you – that’s …” when Yashiro jokes about having been raped, “you should want people to understand you,” etc., etc.). And we now know that he thinks of him as something short, but not too far short, of his “other half.”

Kageyama thinks of Yashiro as a close but not equal friend – someone he has to take care of because Yashiro has no one else. Like Misumi calling himself “useless” when it comes to Yashiro, he describes himself as “soft on” Yashiro (“and I end up forgiving him everything”) or “helpless” to reject even though Yashiro irritates him (often with such transparent deliberateness that even Kage can see that he’s trying to get a rise out of him). Yashiro goes to Kageyama rather than a more suitable doctor and then haggles over money he can afford to pay in full, pushes him into the arms of his love (“don’t I just owe him even more now?” says Kage) but then bugs their bedroom, and generally doesn’t act much like a friend, but Kage still sees him as one.

Ryuuzaki has some features of being in love with Yashiro – he is fond of him, attracted to him, protective of him – but which don’t add up to loving or being in love with him. He also publicly treats him with contempt. A few things to add to @pennyinheaven’s account: If he isn’t interacting with Yashiro directly, Ryuuzaki treats him as a colleague who’s capable in business but provokes people unnecessarily, foolishly. When they were young, Ryuuzaki looked for Yashiro after Misumi had kicked him out into the snow naked and bruised, and missed him enough to ask after him when Yashiro stopped coming over to the Matsubara mahjong parlor. Ryuuzaki is obvious enough that at least sharp-eyed Misumi responds to Hirata’s attempt to camouflage his own responsibility and blame Ryuuzaki for the attack on Yashiro with utter incredulity, and with the memorable principle that “you don’t put out a hit on someone who usually teases you into a hard-on.”

Nanahara’s peeking fines are piling up.

Sugimoto seems to view Yashiro solely as a boss.

Sex friend cop doesn’t hate having to rely on Yashiro, but doesn’t particularly think of him as a human being, either.

Kuga is bloody sick of being kicked out of his apartment, manipulated, and spied on by someone who resentfully views him as a rival in a game that person gave up playing when Kuga was in lower school. He finds Yashiro’s care and shyness around Doumeki endearing, but that won’t stop him from harassing Yashiro via Doumeki. He flat-out disliked Yashiro before Yashiro did anything bad to him and he’s seen no reason to revise that view.

Shark and apparently many other people associated with Doushinkai just think Yashiro’s weird and no good. This is true even to some degree of Misumi’s stepson-cum-right-hand Amou, and probably much truer of members of other groups.

Inami (the brutal senpai of Yashiro’s sex friend) loathes yakuza in general and heaps additional manly scorn on Yashiro.

Hirata hates Yashiro, of course, but more than that he hates that he has to take Yashiro seriously enough to hate rather than simply scorning, looking down on him. Will the fire of a thousand suns that Hirata wants to direct towards Yashiro ever be quenched? PROBABLY NEVER. Why not? Well … that part’s gotten too long, so I’ll do a separate post about why Hirata hates Yashiro so much. Hint: it’s not just that there’s nothing more unmanageable than the envy and jealousy of men.

[angstgremlin]

Bang Bang

Pairing(s): McHanzo, Past McReaper

Rating: M for Violence

Summary: Jesse McCree is the king of getting himself into sticky situations. He’s also the king of getting out of them. This time though he might not succeed in weaseling his way out.

Read on Ao3

Author’s Note: So. Yeah. Been a while for this fic. I'm kinda in a strange state with it, to be honest. Not really satisfied in a way and not motivated to work on it. It's been an entire year since I've started this thing, and we've seen so much in the way of overwatch content it makes me question certain characterizations in the past two chapters. If I decide to go back and change things, I will.

Another reason I was hesitant to work on this was that a lot has occurred in my personal life that made working on this hard. I lost my uncle to brain cancer earlier this year, and shortly after I lost my grandfather as well. Considering a few things I have planned for the fic and the subsequent research I had to do which heavily involved the brain I frequently made myself upset and left this on the back burner for so long. I feel I'm in a little bit of a better place to work on this again, albeit slowly.

I can't imagine people having stuck around waiting for this to update, but if you have, I thank you for your incredible patience. There will be more, I promise. I can't say when, but know I will not let this fic stay unfinished.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three (here)

– – – – – – – – – –

Chapter Three: He didn't even say goodbye

The night they’d brought Jesse home from that mission had been one of the hardest nights since Overwatch had been reformed. Lena had scoured the alleys for Jesse’s hat until she had found it, had clung to it in the waiting room of the medbay as Angela worked on their fallen teammate. Hana had salvaged the serape, and had spent those long hours cleaning it up, getting it as dry as possible and cuddling in silence underneath it. Peacekeeper had been grimly retrieved by Soldier: 76, who’d cleaned the weapon and shoved it in a box. He’d then given the box to Hanzo, who had handed it off to Genji, who then disappeared to hide it away before returning to the waiting room.

Hanzo had been silent the entire time, had also been the last one to leave the waiting room after Lucio informed them that it would be a while yet while Angela worked tirelessly. It was a miracle in of itself that Jesse had managed to get this far, and the good doctor was currently in call with one of the best neurosurgeons she knew. The hard part was waiting on the news. Waiting for the confirmation that Jesse would survive the night.

Needless to say, Hanzo was a mess.

He couldn’t bring himself to return to his and Jesse’s room, nor did he wish to see anyone. If Hanzo allowed even one person to express concern over how he was doing, it would crumble his resolve in seconds. That was the last thing he desired at the moment. The only thing he actually desired was some time alone to process. Hanzo found that desired solitude on the cliffs near the Watchpoint, picked a perch that overlooked the sea and had been a spot he and Jesse snuck off to frequently simply to speak and be with each other. It had been the spot Jesse had confessed his attraction to Hanzo, where their relationship had began.

With his lover hidden away inside the base in the cliffs, fighting for his life in the medbay, this place felt like the closest Hanzo could get to Jesse at the moment.

Hanzo watched the stars, meditated for a while before he finally allowed himself to express his grief, burying his face in his hands. Hanzo curled in on himself, biting his own lip to muffle the first sob of many. Hanzo hated this. He hated feeling helpless, hated that what very well might have been the last moment he and Jesse had together was across an alley that might as well have been an ocean. Hanzo had always known, had anticipated that at any moment, he could lose Jesse and Jesse could lose him.

He just wished it hadn’t been so soon.

The sound of footsteps alerted him to the approach of Hana, and he hastily wiped the evidence of his tears away before he regarded her warily. She only offered him a grim smile, and stepped forward to place the serape in his arms. “Rein’ said I was being unfair.” Hana said softly, looking ashamed, “Out of all of us, you need it the most tonight.” She turned shiny, wide eyes up to him a moment later, “…You think… I mean, he’s going to make it. I have a good feeling. You can return it to McCree when he’s better!”

“I will.” Hanzo offered her a small, sad smile in return, “He’ll be happy to have it back.” Hana nodded, rocked on the balls of her feet awkwardly before she cast him another gentle look, “Hey, you know you can talk to me about this, yeah? I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now. I mean, we all like having McCree around but… you… and him…”

“I’ll keep your offer in mind, Hana. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone.”

His younger teammate nodded solemnly, giving a small wave before she retreated back the way she had come. The horizon was already beginning to lighten with the approach of dawn, and Hanzo wrapped himself up in the serape, holding it tight around him. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend Jesse was right there with him, arms slung around him and chin resting on top of Hanzo’s head.

“What ya cryin’ over me for?” Hanzo could practically hear his gunslinger say, feel the phantom touch of Jesse’s fingers tracing the tear tracks on his cheeks,“I ain’t left ya yet, Darlin’. I promised, didn’t I?”

“You did.” Hanzo wanted to reply to the spectre of this lover.

“But I’m scared that it’s a promise you cannot keep.”

Hanzo lost sense of time after that, the only thing to wake him from his reverie was the approach of his brother. Genji sat himself next to Hanzo, his visor and helm absent to reveal his scarred features and the remaining shock of his green hair. Before, when Hanzo had first come to the watchpoint, Genji approaching him at all would have made him turn heel and flee. But he’d since grown passed that, the rift between the two of them mending slowly over the time they spent becoming brothers again. Besides, if Genji had sought him out so purposefully, it likely meant Angela had come out of the medbay and had spoken with the others. He turned expectantly to his younger brother, trying to tramp down his fears.

“Is there news?” It was a small miracle Hanzo’s voice did not waver, but it did nothing to help when his heart thudded in his chest when Genji nodded.

Genji looked towards where the sun was peeking over the horizon, golden rays shimmering over the sea before he faced his brother and smiled sadly but gently, “Jesse is stable, for the moment.”

Hanzo’s sigh of relief tumbled out in a tremble before he could stop it, short lived as it was, “For the moment?”

Genji nodded, solemn, “He is lucky he has made it so far. But… the nature of his injuries…” the younger Shimada shook his head gently, “All we can hope now is that he wakes. And if he does, it will not be without hardships for him to overcome.”

It was Hanzo’s place now to nod solemnly, fists curled in the fabric of the serape hugging his form, “I suppose Angela would have more information for me, if I were to ask it.”

“She would. But she is sleeping right now. Last night has been hard on us all.”

“Then I will speak with her when she wakes.”

The brothers fell into silence again, watching as the sun continued to rise and cargo ships chugged slowly across the ocean. Hanzo felt the night prior creep up on him finally, slumping forewords heavily. It would be wise to sleep, after not only experiencing the rush of adrenaline from the battle but also the crushing worry over his lover’s wellbeing. But still, the thought of returning to his and Jesse’s shared space without the cowboy there to occupy it as well was something Hanzo did not wish to experience.

“Do you think… I could go see him?”

Genji hummed, thinking it over. “I don’t see why not.”

“Then I will go see him.”

Hanzo rose to his feet, ignoring Genji’s concern when he swayed unsteadily for a moment. Had Hanzo even eaten or drank since returning to the base? He couldn’t recall. Rest was also sounding better by the second, as his feet slowly made their way to the medbay. Before Hanzo reached it, he was nearly bowled over by Lena, who at least offered him an apologetic smile.

“I’ve been lookin’ all over for you.” She began, fiddling with an object in her hands. “Needed ta return this.”

Hanzo was then handed Jesse’s hat, which he took from Lena to fiddle with the brim of it himself. Sudden emotions welled in his throat and he fought just to swallow them back down to reply with a curt, “Thank you.”

“I… Just hadta make sure he got it back, y’know.” Lena rubbed her arm after that admission, gaze downcast, “Figured that he’d need it when he got better.”

“He will need it.” Hanzo answered, holding the hat even closer. “He will be grateful to see it returned. Thank you, Lena.”

Lena nodded, and lifted her face to offer a gentle smile, “If you need anything, you let me know, yeah? I couldn’t imagine going through something like this with Em.”

“I hope you and Emily never go through something like this.” the waver Hanzo had feared creeping into his voice was most definitely on its way, “It’s…”

“It’s tough.” Lena finished for him, expression kind and voice soft, “I should probably let you go see him. Tell him he’d better wake up, yeah? So we can scold him proper for scaring us all.”

Hanzo could only offer a watery chuckle in response and a nod. “I will pass the message on. Thank you, Lena.”

Lena gave him a nod and a kind smile before she disappeared in a flash of blue light. Hanzo stared at where she once stood, then at the hat in his hands. He had to swallow down his emotions once more, seeing this hat not in the possession of it’s owner was alien even to him. Jesse never went anywhere without it, had even made Hanzo turn around once during a two man recon mission they’d run together just to retrieve it after it got knocked off by a low hanging branch. That had been before they got together, and Hanzo had said many colourful things to Jesse that day.

If you knew what you know now, knew just how little time you might have with him, would you take every curse and spiteful phrase back?

Hanzo’s grip on the brim of the hat had turned his knuckles white, and he forced himself to breathe slowly. Moving forward also proved difficult as well, and Hanzo did not know if it was his exhaustion or fear of actually seeing Jesse’s state that kept him from advancing.

It would make this all too real, wouldn’t it?

I need to see him. He needs me. He’d do the same for me.

…I love him so much…

Hanzo stepped forwards slowly, the distance between himself and the medbay shortening with each footfall. It felt like crossing an ocean. The metal of the door was cold against his palm when he pressed against it, and he inched inside. It was dim in the medbay, and reeked of sterilization and strong chemicals. The only light was from Angela’s office itself, and as Hanzo passed by he could see the form of the doctor slumped over her desk. Someone had at least placed a pillow under her head for her, which she was currently snuggled against. Hanzo left her to her rest as he stepped further in.

Jesse wasn’t hard to locate, being in the only occupied bed. Angela had drawn the curtain around his prone form, and Hanzo suspects it’s because she expected him to come see Jesse as soon as possible and had offered them privacy this way. He’d thank her for her foresight later, right now he was preoccupied with taking in Jesse’s appearance.

Jesse looked terrible, was the nicest way to say it, the only way to say it. Thick bandages were wrapped around his head, obscuring the gunslinger’s eyes. Jesse’s prosthetic had been removed and his skin was ashen, but at the very least he was breathing, if shallowly. Hanzo felt his legs finally give way, and he sat heavily on the edge of Jesse’s bed. Hanzo let his head fall into his hands, and took a few shuddering breaths, only sitting back up straight to wipe away the tear tracks from his face.

Hanzo reached over to set Jesse’s hat on top of the gunslinger’s prosthetic that was resting on a little wheeled side table. The serape Hanzo kept around his shoulders as he worked the releases on his own prosthetics, hissing when he felt finally just how swollen his stumps were. Then, he settled against Jesse’s left side, cuddling into the space not occupied by Jesse after making sure he was not laying on anything important.

“I love you, Jesse.” Hanzo told his gunslinger softly, his voice cracking against his wishes, “I don’t want this… to be how we end, but if this is how we part…” the goodbye died in Hanzo’s throat the moment he thought of it, so he choked it back down and closed his eyes, “I love you.” he repeated to Jesse’s silent form, “I always will. Please wake up.”

Before sleep took him finally, Hanzo reached over to twine his and Jesse’s fingers.