#i had to look up side effects of being sun burnt and they were actually scarier than i thought 😨

[fatuismooches]

ok im going to talk about dottore with a lover who hates wearing sunblock but is also pale because guess what (poses) also brought to you by the tiny sunburn on my shoulder (im korean so it's not as bad and i just tan but i also got the vampire genes) (aka: pale and looks young forever)

Dottore who has to sneak aloe or sunblock into lotion for his lover because they will just Not Wear Sunblock

In the deserts of sumeru and they're wearing clothes that show skin because its Fucking Hot? Refuse, absolutely not

"You're going to get burnt."

"If the sun decides it is my time it is my time"

"Absolutely not."

Dottore's lover who will whine and complain about having to wear sunblock because "it feels weird" as if getting sunburnt is any better

Dottore who KNOWS his lover knows why they should wear sunscreen but it's always a boss battle when he tries to get them to wear it.

One day, Dottore doesn't make them, figuring they'll learn their lesson, cue his lover covered in sunburns.. do they complain? no. do they learn from their mistakes? ALSO NO?? he's so confused and i think that's funny

It gets to the point where Dottore just makes his lover carry an umbrella because, then at least they're both somewhat happy

- 🎈 who spent too long at a water park, slipped and hurt their ankle, then caught air when on a water slide

🎈 ANON?? ARE YOU OKAY ??? I hope your ankle is okay!! 😭 Though i hope you had fun at the water park, that sounds fun ❤️

Anyway... 🎈 anon would you be alarmed if i said i like. never wear sunscreen... 💀 I don't think I've ever gotten really sunburnt though? Dottore will probably have to introduce me to sunscreen because I honestly forget it exists sometimes 😅

Regardless, this idea is so funny to me because he's going out of his way to care for you and you're just going to... deny his kind act? Who do you think you are? You're wearing this sunscreen, whether you like it or not. He will not hear of it when you start complaining of your skin hurting and cracking and will leave you to fend for yourself! (You never ended up complaining for some odd reason, but anyway, he begrudgingly applied some soothing cream on you while he just went on about how you need to listen to him otherwise this wouldn't have happened!! + insult insult insult) (he is still worried for you) (this has happened more than once) (for once he is unsure what to do and thinks you're a weirdo, affectionately though)

Reader is the kind of person to use the guise of the heat to pull Zandik under the umbrella with them, so they have an excuse to be close to him (too bad this isn't a perfect romantic novel rainy-day situation, Zandik doesn't fall for it because he wears sunscreen unlike someone else, he scowls)

Good thing in Snezhnaya sunscreen isn't needed anymore! You still keep the umbrella for memories though, it has probably gone through many trials but you love it anyway <3

[spaceprincessem]

For the soft-ish dialogue prompts. 31. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got the prettiest eyes in the world?” for buddie

31. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got the prettiest eyes in the world?”

Eddie takes another slow sip from his beer as a smile, soft and lazy curls in the corner of his mouth. He’s pleasantly buzzed, well on the way to being the right level of drunk where he can order junk food through Buck’s doordash app and only be slightly hungover in the morning. The bar is one of their favorites, a request from Ravi to celebrate his probationary completion. Eddie watches as Ravi shamelessly, tipsily, flirts with the cute bartender that’s been sneaking him free drinks all night in congratulations.

“Do you think Ravi noticed the bartender slipped him his number yet?” Buck asks as he pulls up next to Eddie, tipping a little sideways and unsteady, but smiling nonetheless. 

Eddie reaches out, gripping his shoulder until he’s righted himself. He’s still pressed into Eddie’s side, a blistering heat that makes something pool in Eddie’s gut. They watch Ravi clumsily grab the cocktail napkin they both know has a name and number scribbled on it, shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans unceremoniously.

“Definitely,” Eddie grins, turning slightly to look at Buck.

Buck looks, quite simply, beautiful in the dim lighting of the bar. His cheeks are a rosy pink, a side effect from losing spectacularly at pool with Hen, and his curls are a little loose around his ears where the gel has sweat out for the evening. He’s dressed in one of those burnt orange shirts that Eddie never knew could look so good on someone until he saw Buck wearing it and his lips are a little kiss swollen from where they had snuck off to make out by the bathrooms when no one was looking. Buck is already looking at Eddie, baby blues wide and a little glazed over from the alcohol.

“Anyone ever tell you you’ve got the prettiest eyes in the world?”

Eddie nearly shoots out beer through his nose as he laughs, tipping into Buck’s chest. Buck looks mildly offended that Eddie would laugh at such a thing, but his gaze is mostly warm and fond. 

“Yeah?” Eddie asks after he regains his composure. “I don’t think anyone ever has, actually.”

He’s always thought brown eyes were kind of dull. Nothing sharp or bright like Buck’s glacier lake eyes or Shannon’s stunningly blue-green ocean eyes. Something he could catch even from across the room, something he could sink down into and float away without the constant pressure of the outside world caving in on him.

“Well, they should.” Buck hums, slipping a hand around Eddie’s waist. “Because they are the prettiest. Like bark on pine trees or bottle honey in the sun.”

Eddie doesn’t blush. He doesn’t.

“Those big does eyes make me weak at the knees,” Buck continues, dramatically shaking his legs like he’s about to faint like a Victorian damsel.

“Sure,” Eddie laughs, cupping Buck’s face.

“Eddie,” Buck says, “would I ever lie?”

“Never.” Eddie leans in and kisses Buck softly.

“It’s my favorite color,” Buck murmurs against Eddie’s lips.

And Eddie can’t be blamed if he and Buck dip out a little early so he can press Buck into their bed and kiss him like there’s no tomorrow.

Send me prompts from some soft-ish dialogue prompts (will do buddie, dickkory, and rk1k)

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— frozen hearts: day two —

Warnings: strong language, fluff, angst, past abusive relationship, sexual themes, jealous!Bucky, implications to PTSD

Word Count: ~5.2k

A/N: So, here’s what happened: I save this as a draft thinking I scheduled it knowing that I might not have wifi for a few days at home and then realize I never posted it and now finally get a chance to post it because of some family situations. Anyway… Enjoy the fluff while it lasts! Hehehe

Series Masterlist

When you awoke, the sun was kissing the horizon and colouring your room in hues of yellow. You shivered when cold air hit your neck, snuggling into the warm blanket and humming in content. The arms around your waist tightened, making you look up in realisation. Bucky was fast asleep, a peaceful expression on his face that made him look young and innocent. You were about to push him away and then tease him for not being able to stay away, but the door whipping open made you freeze. 

“Aunt Y/N!” Nate yelled, jumping onto your bed and waking Bucky up in the process. Bucky groaned and buried his face into the crook of your neck, his arms pulling you close. Nate laughed at Bucky’s antics, laying on Bucky, and said, “Daddy does that too!” 

“But mommy pushes him away,” Dan added, clambering onto the bed slowly next to you. You made an attempt to push Bucky away, but he didn’t budge, arms holding you in place. 

“‘M too strong, doll,” Bucky mumbled, his voice sending vibrations through your body. A warm feeling blossomed in your chest at his voice. 

You faked an offended gasp at that, eyes finding Nate’s. Dan gently climbed over your legs and pointed to Bucky’s side, making a tickling motion with his fingers. You nodded with a grin, watching as the twins dug their fingers into Bucky’s side. Bucky jumped and let go of you, grabbing the twins easily and laying them between the two of you. He narrowed his eyes at the twins, watching them as they giggled and glanced at you. 

“That was our secret guys,” Bucky said, feigning a pout.

“Aunt Y/N knew that you were ticklish,” Nate protested, looking at you for backup. 

You giggled and threw an arm over Dan, nodding. “I knew,” you agreed. “Steve told me because James wouldn’t.” 

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he sighed, “That punk.” He shook his head, a smile on his lips. 

“Nate! Dan!” Tania called, causing the twins to shoot up and run out the door before you could blink.

“When did he tell you?” Bucky asked when you sat up in bed, rubbing away the sleep in your eyes. 

“Remember that party Tony threw?”

“You have to do better than that, doll.”

You rolled your eyes. “The party when he finally asked Pepper to marry him.” 

“Yeah.” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows. “A little.”

“Sounds about right.” You got up and started to rummage through your suitcase for clothes. “You were completely wasted in three hours. I had to help you stand up right and Steve mentioned you were ticklish.” You picked out a pair of grey soft sweatpants and a black mock neck shirt. 

“Why do you remember that?” 

You glanced up at Bucky with a mischievous smile and replied, “Because it was hilarious to watch you fall off the seat with just a poke.” 

“You! You’re the reason why I had a bruise on my ass!”

———

“How did mom trust you with the kitchen, Y/N?” Matthew sat down at the island, a teasing smirk set on his face. 

Your lips turn into the same smirk. “You don’t get pancakes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, effectively getting immediate protests from him.

“Hey! Hey! That’s not fair! Mom!” The twins stifled their giggles at their father’s childish antics. Your mom only rolled her eyes, knowing that you wouldn’t actually leave Matthew starving, and continued feeding Ariel. You placed some pancakes onto a plate and put them in front of a now grinning Matthew. “Thanks dude.”

“No problemo.” You turned back to the stove flipping the pancake on the pan. A kiss was planted on your hair and a hand touched your waist lightly. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t burnt the kitchen,” Bucky commented, eyeing the pancakes. 

“What’s wrong with my cooking?” You defended, turning and crossing your arms over your torso. You narrowed your eyes on Matthew and Bucky. Matthew shrugged, saying something with his mouth. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” 

“You burnt the mac’n’cheese last time,” Bucky replied, shrugging and placing a few pancakes on his plate as you both remembered the time Natasha left you in charge of the macaroni and you forgot about it, leaving it burnt. He gave you a boyish grin and took his plate to sit on the last spot at the island. 

You shook your head and flipped a pancake onto the large pile. Once you flipped it onto the stack of pancakes, you poured the final bit of batter onto the pan. You moved to grab the batter-caked bowl and placed it in the sink. You moved to grab the other utensils and place them in the sink. You let the last pancake cook and flipped it onto the stack. You were about to start the water to wash the dishes when Bucky spoke up. 

“Did you eat, doll?” You shook your head, tossing the spatula into the dish pile. His body heat invaded your back, hand coming around to place his plate in the sink and then grab your hand to drag you over to the stool he occupied moments ago. “Eat. We’ll do the dishes after.” 

“I wish your dad would do that for me,” your mom quipped, eyeing your dad, making Bucky chuckle as he grabbed a plate and put pancakes on it. Your dad, who sat on the table, typing away on his laptop, groaned and threw his head back. 

“Bucky, you young man, are putting my thirty-one-year marriage at risk,” he accused, looking at Bucky with a deadpan expression. Bucky only smiled and put the plate in front of you. Your dad looked at him with a proud smile, but Bucky failed to see it. 

You dug in, occasionally giving your own comments in the constant chatters and small arguments. Ariel babbled on in her own language, exchanging a few words of heat with your mom when she tried to feed her mashed raspberries. You had to suppress your laughter at that. Bucky had fallen into a trap planted by your dad, having to sit with your dad and talk about business. Bucky kept glancing nervously at you while your dad told him about how he had opened his company and watched it grow. You only smirked at him to say you brought this on yourself. He rolled his eyes at that carefully so as to not let anyone else see. 

Once you and the others finished eating, Matthew insisted that he would do the dishes when Tania started to gather the twins’ plates. Tania snickered when you muttered out a whipped and Matthew shot you and her a glare. The couple started to wash the dishes while your mom pushed the rest of you into the living room, using some extra force on your dad who insisted on doing his work on the dining table. 

“Hi, baby,” you cooed, taking Ariel from your mom’s arms. She giggled and threw her head back laughing harder. You felt a chin rest on your shoulder as Ariel stared on with tears in her eyes from laughing so much. You looked at your side to see Bucky making faces at her. When Ariel pushed against your hand with her full body to fall back, Bucky swooped forward to kiss her forehead. 

“Peek-a-boo,” he said, moving away and taking a seat next to Dan and Nate. They were holding up small figurines of superheroes and creating sound effects as they made the figurines fight. Ariel’s giggles died down and she started to watch Bucky attentively. You knew what was going to happen before it happened. 

“Buhy!” She screeched, catching everyone’s attention. Bucky grinned at you smugly and stayed seated to make her screech more. “Buhy! Buhy!” She jumped in your arms, falling in the direction that she wanted you to go. You rolled your eyes and made your way to where Bucky sat, flopping down next to him with a huff. Ariel turned in your arms to face Bucky and pushed on his biceps with her hands to get attention. 

“Yes, princess?” Bucky let Ariel take hold of his flesh hand—the one that he wasn’t wearing a glove on—and she inspected it as if it was a diamond. He held back his chuckle at the serious look on her face. 

“Aw good,” she noted, placing a kiss onto it and setting it down. She made grabby hands at the other one, but you noticed Bucky’s immediate discomfort and distracted her with your bracelet, shaking it so that the light hit it and caught her eyes. “Pweety.” 

Bucky relaxed back into the couch, Ariel’s attention being drifted away from his metal hand. He saw your concerned expression thrown at him, but he ignored the looks. He didn’t want you to see the pure adoration he held for you when you did something so simple. According to Steve, Bucky gave you ‘lovey-dovey’ looks when you weren’t looking. Steve was the only one who had noticed Bucky’s attraction to you. After a quick talk with him, Steve had promised to keep Bucky’s secret. At the moment, he realised that maybe this was Steve’s plan all along. 

“Where did you two go for the first date again?” Your mom asked, looking between you and Bucky. 

“Coney Island,” he answered for the two of you. Your mom hummed and nodded slowly. 

“Why?”

“What’d you mean, Ma?” You bit the inside of your cheek and exchanged a glance with Bucky. Bucky blinked twice as your mom went to explain what she meant.

“I mean there’s probably a reason why you two chose Coney Island, right? Like your dad took me on a picnic because he knew I hated all the fancy-smancy food.” Your mom looked over at your dad and upon seeing his smug grin, shook her head comically. 

“Not much of a reason,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I guess I really like her in that dress of hers, the white one with blue flowers.” Your eyes widened a fraction and you turned to look at him, searching for just a small hint of a lie. You knew which dress he was talking about. It had a sleeveless bodice with a bateau neckline. There were pierced embroidery trims around the arm openings and waist, giving glimpses of your skin underneath. The embroidery continued on the handkerchief hem of the midi skirt. You didn't know he remembered it. 

“Oh! I love that one, too,” Tania said, walking to sit on one of the couches. You could see her mind turning gears when she opened her mouth again. “Why’d you wear that though? I mean, you guys did go on rides, no?”

“It was a hot day,” Bucky replied smoothly with a shrug. “Plus we didn’t plan on going on a lot.”

“What about the dizzy ones?” Matthew asked, taking up his chance to tease you. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Real mature.” You made a face at him, narrowing your eyes and sticking your tongue out for just a second. 

“Boy, aren’t you so mature,” Matthew quipped, raising an eyebrow. You ignored him as Bucky chuckled. 

“I tried my best,” Bucky sighed, turning his head to face you before tilting his head to a side, “but she’s not the one to budge.” You fake smiled at that, muttering under breath about how your brother had someone to make fun of you with now. You knew Bucky caught onto it, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he grinned and gave you a look that made your chest spread with warmth. It was his gaze; it was full of the warmth that had never been aimed at you. 

You turned away before you could feed yourself lies. “When does Ariel go to sleep?” 

Tania shrugged and answered, “Depends on when she woke up. I think maybe around twelve-ish she’ll be fussy.” Tania raised an eyebrow as Ariel leaned her head against your shoulder, yawning in a very cute way that made you aw out loud. “Maybe right now? She’s quiet when she wakes up so we have no clue when she woke up.”

“Y/N was like that when she was Ariel’s age too,” your mom put in, gasping just a bit for dramatic effects when she turned to look at your dad. “Remember when we thought she wasn’t able to talk, D/N? We were scared that she was mute because of how late she started to speak.” 

“Mom,” you deadpanned, not wanting to hear the story all over again. You knew you were a late speaker and had never seen the problem with it, but you weren’t going to allow Bucky to find another thing to tease you about. 

“Oh, you know it’s not a bad thing. We were just worried and took her to the doctor,” your mom continued, not getting your subtle hint at ending the conversation. “The doctor told us that she should be able to talk and directed us to do some speaking exercises. It took a couple of months, but she started talking a few days before her second birthday.”

“This never gets old,” Matthew muttered, earning a glare from you as he shrugged. “Not my fault you’re late to everything.” 

“Who was in diapers the longest, mom?” You asked, knowing the answer.

“Matthew was four,” your mom responded easily, glancing at Tania who started cracking up and Bucky who had placed a hand over his grin. 

“Mom!” Matthew shouted and smacked his thigh. 

“I’m not going to lie, Matty.” Your mom leaned back into the sofa, holding her ground as Matthew continued to fume. “You were starting kindergarten when you let it go.” Your dad threw his arm across the back of the sofa, massaging your mom’s shoulder. You smiled triumphantly and rubbed the back of Ariel’s back to soothe her to sleep. 

“Kindergarten?” Tania went to confirm, getting a nod from each of your parents. “You told me it was pre-school.” She turned to Matthew who looked a bit guilty at the accusation. 

“Does it matter? I’m not in diapers now.” 

———

The rest of the day passed by with more bickering and some flirtatious remarks from Bucky in front of your family. Matthew had had to take Dan and Nate out to the lake when they found hockey sticks in the garage and begged for him to play. Bucky had joined them and left with a quick kiss to your cheek. Your parents had taken Ariel with them to the mall, leaving you and Tania to talk freely about the things you two couldn’t share with them around. By the time everyone was back, it was almost six in the evening and your mom was getting ready to make her special lasagna for dinner. Bucky and the other boys arrived a few minutes later when you were grabbing the three bags that had been left behind. 

“Hey guys,” you said, smiling and accepting the tackle of hugs around your waist. You giggled and lifted the bags as the twins backed up, wondering why you hadn't hugged them back. “Sorry. My arms are full.” 

“I can help with that, doll,” Bucky declared, taking the bags from you before you could protest. You wrinkled your nose at his chivalry, but let him carry them to the kitchen while the twins asked for hugs. 

Once the twins were satisfied, you pulled away and said, “I think all of you need a shower.” The twins instantly groaned, but you started to push them gently towards the stairs where Matthew and Bucky stood, talking lightly as Bucky would talk with Steve or Sam. It was new for you to see him so carefree around people he had only known for a day. He tended to be closed off and curt with strangers—you knew that from experience. Seeing him like this was relieving, like an invisible weight was lifted from around him. 

“I don’t wanna shower,” Nate groaned, headbutting Matthew’s leg. You stifled your laughter at his behaviour, reminding yourself that he was a child and could easily get offended. Bucky leaned over to ruffle his hair, chuckling lightly. 

“Come on,” he started, grabbing Nate from around the waist and hoisting him up. “We stink, bud, and I’m sure your Aunt Y/N knows that too.” 

“Don’t bring me into this, Barnes,” you warned and held onto Dan’s hand. 

“Who’s Barnes?” Dan asked as you followed Matthew up the stairs, Bucky and Nate behind you two. 

“It’s James’ last name, honey,” you replied, sparing a glance at him. 

“Why did you call him that?” 

“Uh—”

“She calls me Barnes when she’s trying to get me to listen. Also when she’s mad or annoyed, champ,” Bucky answered for you, getting a quiet oh from Dan. Matthew took the boys at the landing, carrying them when they started to protest. You and Bucky shared a laugh at that, staring at Matthew’s tried expression. Bucky then turned on his heels, grabbing you by your elbow to lead you to your room. When you turned around, stumbling a bit with how fast Bucky was walking, and opened your mouth. 

“Why am I coming with you?” You asked when Bucky opened the door and dragged you along with him. He let go of you, kicking the door close and turning to face you with an expressionless face. 

“I think we both talked to Matthew and Tania about our relationship,” he said simply, walking past you to get his clothes from his suitcase on the floor. You and him had both procrastinated on putting them into the closet to avoid wrinkles. “We need to match our stories up, doll, or they’re gonna figure out that we’re not dating for real.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t thought about that while you talked to Tania. In fact, she didn’t press any questions on you like those. She had only asked how your first date went and if you two had had sex yet—which you heated up at and stuttered out a no. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted him to know that or not. 

“Look,” Bucky said, throwing his towel over his shoulder, “I know you and Tania definitely talked about us and I’m not gonna lie and say Matthew didn’t ask anything. So we’ll talk in five-ten minutes, until then just…” he ended up stopping there, not knowing what to tell you to do in the meantime. 

“I’ll put away my clothes,” you offered, moving to your suitcase while he nodded and headed into the bathroom. You ended up straightening up at the sound of the door and looked at it. You stared at the door as if it was the most interesting thing in the room. You snapped out of your trance when the shower turned on and you shook your head clear of the thought of Bucky in the steamy shower. 

You started pulling out your undergarments first, knowing you would die of embarrassment if Bucky walked out and caught sight of your laced bras and panties. Especially the lingerie you had thrown in prior to the fake dating plan. You stashed them into the closet drawers installed in the wall, hoping that you could tell Bucky where to put his stuff before he opened it. You then brought out the clothes that needed to be hung, like the jeans and dresses. After that, you were refolding all of your hoodies and sweatpants and putting them on the shelf of the closet. Bucky happened to walk out the bathroom at that moment, catching a glimpse of you heading into the closet. 

“You done?” Bucky asked, walking into the closet as well. The closet was big, but not big enough for the two of you to stand with a good distance between you. You were a bit startled by his sudden appearance, one of your hoodies falling from your hands. Bucky caught it before it could fall to the floor. The hoodie had come undone of its folding, showing off the Trouble Man writing across it with smaller words spelling out Marvin Gaye. He recognized it to be Sam’s customised hoodie. 

“Could you be any quieter?” You hissed, putting the rest of the hoodies away and turning to face him. 

“Is this Sam’s?” Bucky asked, ignoring your remark. His question caught you a bit off-guard, but you responded with a yes while reaching out for the hoodie. “Why do you have it?” Everyone, including Bucky, knew that this hoodie was a special thing to Sam; he didn’t even let anyone touch it. 

“He gave it to me,” you said curtly, cocking your head to the side. “What’s with all the questions, James?” 

“‘S nothin’.” He handed the hoodie to you and backed out the closet, leaving you to your thoughts. You shook your head, already having more than enough things on your mind and put the hoodie with the rest. When you made your way into the room, the first thing that you noticed was his wet towel draped on the bed. Then it was the strong scent of his citrus soap. Your eyes immediately darted to Bucky who was sitting on the bed, pulling on a pair of socks. His hair was wet, dripping against his black henley he had chosen to wear. His buttons weren’t done and his dog tags were hanging out. It was quite the sight. 

“Pick up your towel and hang it inside,” you said, forcing your head to remember what you were annoyed about and pointing to the bathroom—in your defence, it was hard to function around him. Bucky picked up his towel when he placed his foot down and rubbed his hair, effectively doing and not doing what you had wanted him to. Rolling your eyes, you placed the now empty suitcase on the ground, shoving it underneath your bed. 

“Did you tell her anything?” Bucky asked, throwing the towel onto his suitcase—at least it wasn’t on the bed anymore. You sat down next to him, folding your legs and facing his side profile. His hair was longer than it had been two months ago, making the front strands graze over his ear. You had to admit he had a great jawline and face in general, but there was something about the way he clenched his jaw that made you feel warm. 

“Yeah,” you breathed out, snapping back to the question he asked when he looked at you. His blue eyes became saturated with the light that emitted from the lamp next to you, making them seem a grey colour. “She asked about details of our first date so I told her the things we did when Nat and Steve dragged me, you, and Sam to Coney Island.”

Bucky hummed and asked, “Anything else?”

“She wanted to know if we’ve had sex yet.” Bucky looked away and visibly tensed at that and your stomach dropped. Of course he would think that having sex with you would be disgusting. With the fake relationship, you had almost started thinking of him as a friend. Why else would he help you? Now you were starting to close off again, not wanting him to see the slight tremble to your lip at his reaction. 

“What’d you say?” Bucky asked, wringing his hands together and leaning forward to place his elbows on his knees. He couldn’t look at you after that. It was hard as it was with your body pressed up against him last night. Even before that, the little blue dress you had worn to one of Tony’s party’s made his heart jump and forced him to control his breathing. Hell, at this moment, he was having a hard time not to notice your jeans snug against your legs and your tight shirt clinging to every curve and dip. 

“No,” you whispered. He glanced up at you to see your guards up and nodded slowly. 

“Anything—” 

“No.” You shifted slightly, making Bucky want to move as well. He started to mimic your position, but left his right foot planted on the ground. “What about Matthew?”

“Asked about PDA. Why—why we don’t,” Bucky stuttered out, waving his hand around before you grabbed it and held it down so that he didn’t hit himself or you in the face. He licked his lips and added, “Said that you weren’t into it after Brock—” your hands fell loose around his and threatened to leave his so he held on, dropping his voice to a whisper— “and I knew wasn’t a complete lie.” 

You inhaled sharply, hands jerking in his hold. “How—How did you—” know that, you wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. 

“You flinched when we tried to touch you that day. You kept your distance from us before you started crumplin’,” he mumbled, the silent pact of never speaking about that day breaking in just a second. Your eyes glossed over, tears building up faster than he could have anticipated which tugged strings in his heart. He pulled your hands up and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “He was a real shithole, from Steve—ever the gentleman. A dickhead, from Sam. An asshole, from Natasha who literally went ahead and tried to punch the daylights outta him in front of the cops. A complete fuckwad that didn’t even deserve you, from your friends.” 

You sniffled and chuckled at his statement, nodding twice. “I get it and, for your information, I remember you telling him that he was a dickbag, fucktard, asshat, douchebag, bonehead, itchy sweater, easy bake oven, and a wet sock. The last three were the best by the way.” 

Bucky nodded, his hand itching to reach out and wipe the few tears that were staining your cheeks. You quickly relieved him of that desire and wiped your tears with the back of your hand that you had managed to release from his grasp. He let go of your other hand too, not wanting to overstep a boundary. He watched your hand come up and wipe the last of your tears, your scleras pink from the tears. 

“He asked a few questions so I’ll just tell you the answers,” Bucky said, waiting for your nod. “We’ve cancelled fancy restaurant reservations and stayed home and watched a movie three times. You’ve chosen one of the Harry Potter movies two times because I lost at rock, paper, scissors and I chose one of the Lord of the Rings one for the one time I won. I asked you on a date when I was drunk so you didn’t trust me, but I ended up asking you the next day at a cafe we ran into each other at. And, uh, he asked about the arm.”

“Oh.” Your eyes naturally went to his left arm, trailing down to see the black vibranium with gold lining on his exposed hand. “What’d you answer?” 

“I told him about the army, not too much. Couldn’t bring myself to talk ‘bout in front of the twins.” Bucky looked down, his ears bright red and a bright pink blush on his face. “He’s gonna ask again, isn’t he?” 

“Yeah,” you replied, “but you don’t need to answer him if you don’t want to or can’t.” Your smile was warm and he felt the corners of his lips twitch. 

“I won’t, but it was just the twins I didn’t want to traumatise.” He shrugged at your concerned look. “Matthew ain’t as bad as you.”

“Low fucking blow, Barnes,” you said curtly, raising an eyebrow. Bucky shrugged and got up with a smile on his face. 

“We should go before they have other ideas.”

———

“Did you enjoy the lasagna, dear?” Your mom asked Bucky who grinned at her and put his dishes beside the sink. 

“‘Course I did. The best I’ve ever had,” he answered truthfully. He felt his heart skip a beat when she cleaned her hands with a dish towel and put one on his left arm—he usually remembered to stand on a person’s left to avoid situations like this. But he found himself attentively listening to her speak instead of focusing on her hand on his arm. 

“You make her really happy, Bucky. I’ve only seen her like that around her family and Natasha. Maybe Steve as well. I know she makes you happy too, but I think you know that already. I see the way you look at her; that’s exactly how D/N and I look at each other or Matthew and Tania.” Bucky resisted the urge to clench his jaw at your mom’s words. “I don’t think I need to say this, but I know D/N didn’t say it. Please don’t break her heart on purpose.” 

Bucky nodded, his own heart breaking. 

———

“What’re you doing?” Bucky had finished up in the bathroom and walked out to see you sitting criss-cross on the floor, facing the wall that held the TV. You looked at him over your shoulder, giving him a once over���his black shirt and grey sweatpants were hardly a sight in his own opinion—that was free of judgement. 

“I found a nightlight in my closet,” you explained, turning to the side slightly without giving it much thought. You held up the star covered nightlight and waved around a little. “The lamp was bright and I couldn’t sleep quickly ‘cause of it. I had this when I was younger so it should be fine.” 

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at your confession, but it quickly dissipated when you plugged in the nightlight and it turned on. You grinned and got up, picking up the packet of bulbs and placing them on the table underneath the TV. 

“Scared of the dark too?” Bucky went back to his teasing, seeing that you were getting too used to his soft side. The side that he wanted to show everyday, but shouldn’t. 

“Being alone in the dark,” you whispered, so quietly that Bucky almost missed. “We should go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Bucky walked the distance to his side of the bed flopping down and laid down quickly. 

“You have any plans to cuddle again, Barnes?” You joked as you sat down on the bed, taking off the fluffy socks you had put on and placing them a bit under the bed. You turned to look at him and shimmied down to lay facing him with a grin. He knew you were teasing him and not expecting an answer, but he couldn’t help but smile smugly. His heart was beating loudly in his chest because you hadn’t complained. Teased, sure, but you hadn’t complained even once. 

“Don’t lie, doll. You loved it.” 

You rolled your eyes with a soft smile playing on your lips. “In your dreams, Barney.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.” You blindly reached back and turned the knob to turn off your lamp. Bucky turned to turn it off, not having the action known by heart yet. 

“Goodnight, Y/S.”

“Goodnight, Barney.” 

Bucky sighed while you giggled. He realised, on the brink of sleep, that he still had eight more days left of this agonising torture of sleeping with you. 

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Alchemy of Souls: Connection between the Legend of Chang'E and the Story of the Ice Stone

The legend of Chang'E (hint hint ... looks like "change" ) starts out like this. Back when the Earth was still young there were 10 suns. There was no such thing as night, it was super hot all the time. The people and their crops suffered greatly because of this extreme heat.

One day there was a skilled archer, Hou Yi, who decided he would end this extreme heat by shooting down 9 of the 10 suns. And so it was that only 1 sun remained.

The people no longer suffered anymore because now there was the cooling effects of the night, rain, and water.

For Hou Yi's heroic act, the goddess Xiwangmu, rewarded him with the elixir of immortality.

Though Hou Yi was grateful for the goddess's gift, he was conflicted because there was only enough elixir for one person. Hou Yi did not wish to be immortal if it meant his wife, Chang'e, could not remain by his side forever. He decided it was better to hide the elixir of immortality from Chang'e and remain mortal. In this way, they could be together until both of their mortal lives had ended.

As fate would have it, Chang'e found out about her husband's gift and decided to steal the elixir of immortality for herself.

She drank every drop of the elixir and became an immortal goddess of the moon. Due to her selfishness, both she and Hou Yi could never be reunited.

Connection To AOS

Now let's look at the characters in AOS. Which characters do you think is similar to Chang'e and Hou Yi? I would say would say Chang'e is Seo Gyeong and Hou Yi is Jin Seol Ran.

This is how I think events 200 years ago unfolded. Seo Gyeong had the elixir of immortality (Ice Stone) and wanted to share it with Jin Seol Ran, but she said no. Either because she did not want to live forever with him or she believed using the Ice Stone to live forever was inherently wrong. Remember that in AOS, you could essentially live forever by swapping your soul into different bodies multiple times.

Jin Seol Ran likely lived out her life and died of old age. Seo Gyeong however did not die. No my fellow readers, I'm pretty sure he's currently alive right now. Identities can be easily created when you have the ability to soul shift. You can change your face/body, create a new name, and backstory with a snap of a finger! Therefore, I'm pretty sure Master Lee's soul is actually Seo Gyeong's soul.

Master Lee on the outside looks pretty young even though his soul is like 100+ years old. Also keep in mind that no one living now really knows what Seo Gyeong originally looked like because they hadn't even been born yet (i.e Park Jin and Heo Yeom). The only person who supposedly knew him was his pupil, Master Lee. However, the whole Master Lee identity is actually something Seo Gyeong created himself.

Think about it. It puts a lot of things into perspective. Seo Gyeong/Master Lee drinks chaste tea so that he doesn't look at women and catch feelings. Why wouldn't he want to do that? Because his ass got butt hurt 200 years ago when Jin Seol Ran rejected him and his offer of immortality. He didn't ever want to feel those things again. He didn't want to look at women, fall in love, and get hurt all over again. In his mind, being burnt once was so traumatizing that it was better for him to drink his feelings away quite literally.

Just like Chang'e, Seo Gyeong/Master Lee chose immortality/power over love. Seo Gyeong/Master Lee believed it was better to choose power over love because love is fickle and can hurt like hell. If you think about the kind of pupils Seo Gyeong/Master Lee wants, you will see he only wants the ones who are willing to give up love for more power just like him.

The whole letter love clue was also another dead giveaway that Master Lee is actually Seo Gyeong. He only knew that it was a love letter not because he was Seo Gyeong's pupil, it's because he is Seo Gyeong.

Other Thoughts

In my previous post, I was wondering why Master Lee/Seo Gyeong is so interested in Jang Uk. I think I've finally figured out why. Master/Seo Gyeong has been testing Jang Uk to see if he can resist power. Why? Because in order to destroy the Ice Stone, you must not only be powerful, but also must be able to resist the power of the Ice Stone. This was something Seo Gyeong/Master Lee was unable to do some 200 years ago. He could not destroy the Ice Stone because he could not resist its power. Those who cannot resist its power will only be able to sealed it, but never fully destroy it. Anyone else getting the One Ring vibe from Lord of the Rings?

Anyways, love doesn't make one weak. It can actually make one quite powerful. Even more powerful than the Ice Stone. Jang Uk during his conversations with Master Lee/Seo Gyeong has already proven himself he would gladly choose love over power any day, this ironically is what makes him more powerful than even Master Lee/Seo Gyeong. Naksu/Jin Bu Yeon on the other hand will eventually come around to choosing love over power. Once these two stop being so extra, they can become one hella powerful couple.

So after both Naksu/Jin Bu Yeon and Jang Uk have literally become a power couple, they can simply destroy the Ice Stone right? No I don't think so. One must not only be powerful and able to resist the allure of the Ice Stone, but one must also be willing to do the opposite of what the Ice Stone offers. The Ice Stone offers immortality. Opposite is mortality. The ultimate cost for destroying the Ice Stone is that one must be willing to give up one's immortality aka one's soul aka dieeeeeeeeee.

Both Jang Uk and Naksu/Jin Bu Yeon are willing to die for the other. That's been well established. However, I feel like Jang Uk would not be willing to destroy the Ice Stone if it meant both of them could live. He would most likely say to just seal it instead. On the other hand, Jin Bu Yeon/Naksu had already seen the results of what happens when one simply seals the stone. She knows perfectly well there will come a day when another person comes around to unseal it again. Combine that with the guilt she felt from killing all those people in the past as Naksu, Jin Bu Yeon will probably end up making the ultimate sacrifice because she was a pure soul that had no malice.

Other Harry Potter and AOS Similarties

Love is most the powerful thing, it can defeat anything or anyone

What made Harry Potter more powerful than Voldemort is because he had love in his life

2. Finding the Ice Stone/Philosopher's Stone

Both Jin Bu Yeon and Harry Potter were able to find the Ice Stone and Philosopher's Stone respectively because they were pure souls. Both had only wanted to find the stones so that they could destroy it.

Ice Stone=Philosopher's Stone=Elixir of Immortality

[killmebythebeach]

A bunch of head cannons (Maybe too much). Also in talking about the characters.

I think Dream is that one design where his skin is just the static tv screen. He just constantly emits that fuzzy noise, Sam crafted him the smile mask that he can see through so he doesn't scare people.

George is just kind of the server itself. He's the same species as Hannah, but a mushroom and more powerful. If he stays awake too long, the server just kind of freezes. This is also a reason XD keeps him sleeping, it's his way of talking to George and he thinks the server is like his soap opera of mortals.

Callahan is sort of like the person who makes sure George doesn't get killed or dies while asleep, making sure he's surrounded by mushrooms and such. Deer hybrid <3

Alyssa joined the server because she knew all her friends were idiots and didn't want them to die immediately. But once the elections rolled around, she felt the pressure of choosing sides and ran away to the desert, only keeping contact with Ponk. She actually lives just a couple miles from Foolish's summer home. Her communicator actually died after a couple months and she had no way of charging it, so she lost contact with everyone.

Sapnap is a magma cube hybrid and can jump higher than most, his natural temperature runs hotter, and is fire proof. Bad found him in the nether when he was maybe 10-15 years old.

Sam was actually a normal creeper, but gained player like sentience from being struck by lightning. Instead of becoming charged, he gained intelligence and met the others on the server. Callahan taught him some Redstone, but from there he figured out a lot on his own. He's also a creeper centaur.

Ponk is actually a descendant of a fairy, a lemon tree. Their mask was also a gift from Sam because after the second or third time their tree was burnt, their immune system was weakened a considerable amount. Alyssa also wore her mask for them.

Bad is a size shifting demon from the nether, more specifically soul sand desert. He uses soul fire to gain strength, so because the egg died when near it, he was just a little weaker than normal. Because he's a demon he needs a tie to the overworld to stay there, he tied his soul and lives to Skeppy.

Tommy was grown in a lab to be a hero, project: THESEUS. The lab gave him small enhancements, like slightly stronger and just a bit more resilient, to make the Above Average Boy (TM). He then ran away to meet Wilbur. When Dream asked Wilbur if he wanted to come to the server, he asked if Tommy could go first to see what it was like. He also actually really likes gardening and making up funny songs to Wilbur playing guitar. He also made funny lyrics for his discs, but he's still a bit scared to take them out of his ender chest. Other than bringing attachment, Dream also exiled Tommy to see what his lab enhancements could do.

Tubbo is an adaptive hybrid! His hair was blond, shifting to brown when Wilbur found him, getting blue eyes from Tommy, growing small horns under Schlatt, parts of his skin being static when Dream was "helping" him with his presidency, and parts of his scars tinging black and green from Ranboo and Micheal. Tubbo also helped Wilbur write part of the anthem. He likes living in the snow because the Manberg flag had magma blocks on it, casting a heatwave over the country, and after L'Manburg blew up it got really hot from the exposed stone in direct sun.

Fundy can actually hold his breath for a very long time and swim very well because of Sally teaching him and his salmon genes. The yellow things on his hat are actually shells, and the stripes on his jacket are trans colors. Also with his dreams, he saw Eret was going to betray them but didn't think it was real, or didn't want to. He also saw Wilbur blow up L'Manburg but chose not to believe it, thinking his father could still be saved. He actually saw pretty much everything, but didn't quite understand what they were until after doomsday.

The necklace Punz wears is one of those picture lockets, but he lost the picture and can't remember what it was. The first time Dream paid him was when Dream asked for help and Punz made an off hand joke about getting money, and then Dream thought he was being serious. Him, Dream, and Sapnap were like brothers, and Punz got sadder every time he saw Dream pushing people away and diving deeper into darkness.

Purpled is an aliensent to see if the planet was colonizable, but then crashed and was stranded, all his communications down and his ship barely able to hover fifty feet off the ground. When Quackity blew it up, he essentially got rid of his chance of ever going home. Purpled's species can shapeshift, so he turned himself into the first person he saw, Punz. Eventually before trying to communicate with the native life forms, he edited his form a little so they weren't identical, keeping purple eyes and antennae, changing the colors slightly, and changing the voice up. When he moves away from the main SMP, Ponk makes sure to check up on him and that he has a way to check his communicator.

Wilbur came a month after sending Tommy. His father being a patron of life and his mother the goddess of death, he met in the middle being born as a human. The only reason Ghostbur was as active and present as he was was because he was so connected to both life and death. Since his corpse was decaying for as long as it was, Wilbur is now super weak, his flesh is thin and his eyes are rotted and gone. Much like Ghostbur, Wilbur in limbo saw what people said about him, and Ghostbur could hear that from the back of his head. Now Wilbur can hear what people say about Ghostbur and he hates it, not wanting to be connected to what he thinks like a shell of himself.

Schlatt is a ram (duh) and actually does the fainting goat thing. So when he died of a heart attack, no one knew at first if he was actually dead or not. His alcoholism stems from the revive book, as the possibility of tampering with death made him existential and scared, so to cope he drank. There are also a ton of other stuff other than revival in the book, but it's in galactic.

Skeppy was just a normal human, but after making the pact with Bad, Bad put a spell on him. Parts of him turned into diamond, protecting both his and Bad's lives. He however, is unaware of this. With the egg, he would just sit on it, the diamonds chipping away to make room for the vines.

Eret was cursed by the Wither Cult, giving them white eyes and a slowly deteriorating memory. Not sure what to do, Foolish dropped them off at the SMP. Sometimes they would dream about old memories from before the curse, but it was just glimpses so he could never tell what they meant. Once they were king, they made the Herobrine shrine subconsciously, not really sure what it was after. They also had a strange affinity of beacons and resurrection, some of their memories resurfacing when they tried to help Phil and Ghostbur revive Wilbur after doomsday. The reason people are more scared of their eyes than any other wierd eyes was because he generally looks like a normal human, but the wither along with their Herobrine origins creates an uncanny valley that people are shocked by.

Jack had red and blue irises before crawling out of hell, but after coming back the whites of his eyes also turned red and blue. He always wears 3d glasses so no one noticed, but he just thought no one cared enough to mention it. He also has a bunch of scars and burn marks that no one but him can see, therefore no one asks about them or thinks something is wrong, cementing the idea that no one cares about him.

Niki is a blaze hybrid (stole this from @/420technoblazeit) whose fire hair color changes based on strong emotion, something she bond with Tubbo for as a fellow shifter. A soft yellow in L'Manburg, brighter orange in Manburg, hot pink on Doomsday, a soul fire blue with the syndicate (which Techno hates), and a dead grey when she found out Wilbur was alive. She was also old child hood friends with Ranboo and Eret, leaving Ranboo for the SMP. Ranboo, unfortunatly, doesn't remember much more than her name. She also knows galactic from Ranboo, so she talks about her troubles to Shy the Enderman. She doesn't really know how to talk to Puffy anymore after Doomsday or finding out how she wants to protect Tommy.

Quackity can perfectly replicate someone's voice and, with a lot of effort, can completely change his form to another player. He also has very small yellow wings, too small to fly, so he almost always hides them. He used to constantly change his voice for jokes with Karl, Sapnap, and George, but he doesn't like doing it now in Las Nevadas, as he sees it as unprofessional. However, sometimes he uses when he visits Dream, changing his voice to people like George and Sapnap to make torture more effective.

In the In Between and Other Side, Karl actually looks like his old skin, or his natural state (the big purple one that inspired his sweater). But most of the time in the normal world, he looks human. With effort he can bring out the interdemential being thing, something only Quackity and Sapnap know about. The more he time travels, the easier it becomes to change, and he's even started defaulting to the other form.

HBomb is actually just a normal news reporter, sent to interview and record what's going on in the server, his first big story being the election. Upon Doomsday, the stress of seeing everyone alone, fighting, and disconnected, he ran away from the world, essentially becoming a cat lady. His undercover reporter persona is actually the cat maid. He eventually came back to the server to see how he could help after Doomsday, befriending Niki again and living with her in the underground city.

Techno is a piglin, so he's scared of soul fire. He forgot to tell Phil before he decorated the syndicate room, so he just suffers in silence. He also does better when around a lot of gold, like in the nether, and he feels drained and slightly weaker without it. Instead of just putting gold around the area (it would ruin his property value), he just hibernates. He has an emerald earing, like all of the syndicate, but his is a locket that unfolds into pictures of the syndicate.

Ant always wears a red hoodie, now ruined by the egg, that used to be Red's. On Red's death anniversary, him, Bad, Skeppy, and Sam would make cake and put flowers on his grave. He missed the last one because it was during the egg, but for a brief moment after Puffy killed him he saw Red. Red then promptly and bluntly told him to stop being a pussy (haha, cat) and that he shouldn't do all this just to get him back, one of Ant's motivators to make amends with the people he hurt while with the egg. Ant is also a shapeshifter, but can only turn into a cat.

Phil actually used to work under Foolish as a patron of life but then he had a son with the goddess of death, so his title was removed so he could be with her and he became an Angel of Death. Kristin noticed how sad he was after being released, so she gifted him wings. They were however, destroyed on November 16th. His chat also serves as messenger pigeons, which were used to send letters to Wilbur.

Connor is actually just a hedgehog who somehow befriended Schlatt. Even before the haunted mansion, Karl vented to him about his time travel troubles, not knowing he was a sentient player. As a hedgehog, no one really cares where he goes, so he goes outside the server limits to meet his friends from the haunted mansion.

Puffy is a distant relative of Schlatt, but instead of politics she went into piracy. With her mom, she went travelling the seas. One say, a storm came and wiped out her ship, her crew, her mom, everything but her. The reason she survived was because Foolish saw her and saved her. Unfortunately, Puffy hit hee head in the crash and doesn't remember anything.

Vikkstar is the equivalent of a big time celebrity, so of course his endorsement of POG2020 was a big deal.

Lazarbeam is literally just a ginger bread cookie.

Ranboo has actually met a lot of the smp before actually joining. He's met Niki, Fundy, Eret, Punz, and Dream at least. He also sees the inverted colors Enderman see. His suit was actually a gift from Eret before they forgot how to tailor. He got the crown from Techno after joining the syndicate, claiming he didn't want any syndicate members to look like trash.

Foolish came to the server most recently to check up on Eret, but he couldn't bring himself to leave again. When Puffy adopts him, he can't say no because he remembers saving her. His initial goal was to kill an ender dragon to claim the XD title and become a full god like DreamXD, but after realising someone already killed it he went into his totem if death phase. Upon meeting Eret, he got over it and they went on some silly adventures, Foolish now taking a more peaceful route.

Hannah is essentially a weaker George, as her power is tied to the plants themselves and not the entire server. She however has a lot more physical power because rose dryads like to fight because they have thorns. Since roses can be taken out a lot easier, she is essentially a glass canon. Also when around any plant, she can make it grow faster than normal.

Any guest on the server? Corpse, Pokimane, Lil Nas? They were all Slimecicle. That's how he knows where everyone is from, even outside of Las Nevadas. No one else knows this. He's also ancient, if he met Phil they would probably recognise eachother. There was an actual Charlie Slimecicle who was not a slime, but after being launched into orbit this Slimecicle decided to impersonate him.

Michael Mcchill is a sort of bounty hunter. He came to the server after hearing of all the crime, assuming there'd be a lot of bounties to collect. However, he soon learned that no one really cares if you commit a crime. He then took to reading news articles made by HBomb to see if there were any past open bounties. But after reading for a while about the server's wronguns, mostly Dream, he began to sympathise with them. And he's also a speedrunner, so maybe he could help with some bounties across other servers!

This was a very long post and i apologize, but it was so fun to finally write all these thoughts down! I hope you liked them! I can't even fit all the tags I want.

[your-highnessmarvel]

From Bleak to Bright Part Four

All other parts on on my masterlist, link provided below.

AN: OOOOH the development of this story makes me so excited for the rest!!! Loki is def in this part babies;)

Warnings: angst, language

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MASTERLIST

PART FOUR

The evening sun bore down onto the horizon, coloring the sky a myriad of blue and yellow and pink. Like vagabond brushstrokes upon the canvas of the sky. A few, wandering birds called from a distance, lazily gliding in the wind. 

The door behind you opened and closed. You turned away from the darkening horizon and saw your brother offering two cups of steaming chamomile tea. 

“Steve says they might have a point of entry for you,” he said, but his tone wasn’t into it, as if the week’s dealings bore on his shoulders alone. 

When Tony had announced your role as the bait, Bruce had thrown himself at your side. No one would hurt his baby sister, he’d said.

“I don’t think he’s going to fall for it,” you said halfhearted. 

Bruce sighed, handing you the cup. You wrapped your hands around the burning warmth. “I think you still don’t fully understand the soulmate bond,” your brother said.

“Huh?”

He sipped on his tea, clearing his throat. “At least for men, it’s not really about how you feel towards that person, albeit that yes, there’s passion.” He scratched the back of his neck, awkwardly coughing. “It’s more the protection you want to have on this person. Their wellbeing is of utmost importance. It’s hard, sometimes, to differentiate between protection and possession.”

A lump formed in your throat. Possession?

“And knowing Loki,” Bruce went on. “Knowing his nature of envy and greed, he’s for sure feeling the effects of the bond as just that - possession. He feels like you belong to him.”

Astonished, you turned away from your brother, both to hide your flaming cheeks and the awkwardness forming between you. 

“Has he made anymore...” you hesitated, “demands?”

Bruce shook his head. “No.” Then he looked at the horizon. “But he’s looking for you. He went to your apartment. Your daytime job. Even the school you used to go to part-time in the summer.”

That seemed like so far behind. Like someone else. Not you. That life you’d had barely more than two weeks ago, when you’d accepted to help Bruce. That girl, living alone in a somewhat nice apartment, going to work on public transport, and studying in the summer - that girl seemed like a stranger now. The girl who used to see in black and white.

“So what happens when he finds me?” you asked tentatively. 

“We swoop in,” Bruce answered. “We get him. We hand him over to Thor, and he brings him back to Asgard and makes sure he never comes back.”

That word. Never. It rung like a Cong inside your brain. The prospect of never seeing Loki ever again, never talking to him, stroke a cord in you that you wished you could ignore. 

During this whole week of scheming, no one had asked you how you felt about all this. He was your soulmate after all. And the idea that, after all this time, you’d finally found him and he was bound for eternal life in prison made you want to scream.

Bruce put his hand on your upper back, as if sensing your discomfort. “Let’s go to bed,” he said soothingly. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

Yes, tomorrow was a big day.

***

You strolled through downtown New York, trying your hardest not to look over your shoulder. It had been a week since you’d been in a huge crowd, and returning to the crammed streets of the city made your belly buzz.

Nat sounded in your ear. “Make it look authentic,” she said. 

Right. Because luring a thousand-year-old demi-God into a quiet corner to trap him was the easiest thing in the world. Nat had tried to teach you a few things when they’d all cooped up at Tony’s secret forest getaway, but now, living it, you couldn’t remember how to act benign. 

You tried to pretend to be listening to music, the airpods in your ears actually being comms with the Quinjet hidden overhead. You stopped at Starbucks. You pretended to look through the windows of clothing stores. You stepped into a bookstore and bought a novel. 

It had been an hour that you were “baiting” and nothing. 

Not even a glimpse.

You sighed in defeat, pushing your hair behind your ears. The day’s heat was boring down on you, and you knew your nose was burnt. Your tank top was soaked, your jeans sticking to your legs. Totally uncomfortable would be an understatement.

You saw a glimpse of something gold in the Macy’s window and looked over your shoulder. 

“Y/N,” Bruce sounded in your ear. “Come in.”

You remained silent. The crowd before you changed, people walking past you in a hurry. You turned back to the window, muttering to your brother, “I’m fine.” 

“Get away from Macy’s, you have enough clothes,” your brother muttered back.

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“What’s funny?”

You jumped, yelping, staring up into Loki’s green gaze. Heart hammering, blood roaring in your ears, you tried to focus on calming yourself. Your hands were sweaty as you reached up to take out one airpod.

He smirked. Under the sun, he was glorious in an all-black ensemble, his raven locks freshly cut beneath his chin, pushed back behind his ears. 

“Fancy a stroll?”

You gulped, looking at the elbow he offered. Something shimmered there, around the edges of his forearm. As if he glowed.

He’s not really here. 

You remembered from your briefing on Loki, that Thor had said the jester loved his illusion tricks.

“I presume I have to pretend to hold your arm?” you answered, feeling the knot of anxiety dissolve in your belly at the sight of his grin.

“Clever.” He retreated his arm, looked around at the crowd swiftly moving past him. “May we talk somewhere private?” he asked. 

Nat had told you he’d say that, and your job was to not look too eager. He’d smell a trap before you’d even agree.

You forced yourself to frown. “You want to get me alone?”

He huffed, his lips pulling into a dashing smirk. God, he really was beautiful. The sun, so warm and overbearing to you, seemed to grace his entire being as if he’d been crafted by the hands of the gods themselves. 

“If I wanted to get you alone,” he said, dropping his voice to a lower octave, stepping closer to you, “I would have gotten you out of Tony’s little wayward cabin much sooner.”

He stood close, not close enough to smell him, but close enough that you had to tilt your head to keep eye contact. 

There was a quiet turmoil building inside you at his words, someone whispering “Shit” in your airpod. A slight tremor began at your core, echoing out into your limbs. He’d known where you were. He knew what you were doing.

At the sight of your face - you, who could barely hide your emotions - he grinned wildly. 

“I am the God of Mischief, or did you forget?” He tilted his head, squinted his eyes. 

Your mouth was dry when you answered. “That’s why you’re casting yourself as an illusion?”

“Clever,” he said, again. Then he licked his lips, erasing the comical expression on his features and replacing it with something akin to stone. “You’re mad if you think you can fool me.”

“Takes one to know one.”

He would have laid hands on you if he wasn’t incorporeal. His eyes darkened, chin dipping so that he stared at you along the length of his nose. 

“You’re a chipper little thing,” he said, voice laced with venom. The tone, his expression, the way his illusion made the edges of him tremble instead of glow, made your heart speed with fear. “I’m sure the Avengers trained you well. I’m sure your brother thinks he can save you.”

Bruce whispered in your ear, “Son of a bitch.”

Loki’s unmoving expression slipped enough for him to smirk maniacally. “In fact,” he said, “tell him right now that I’ll win. I’ll win this battle of wits. This fucking planet. And I’ll win his sister.”

And then he vanished, leaving you to hear nothing but your drumming heartbeat, like a sea of swarming insects. The only thing that lingered behind was the smell of pinewood.

I PROMISE PART FIVE WILL BE LONGER!!!!!!!!!!

Tags:  @subtlemalice @yallgotkik @buckyandlokirunmylife @kaz11283 @legolas-bromance @shylittlemountain @tofeartheunknown @feelmyfckngsoul @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @caffiend-queen @tomhollandsslilslut @lady-loki-ren @nathan-no @rosaline-black @abundanceofcarolines @my-own-oracle @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @marvelouslovely @drbaureid @bored-as-hell-666 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @theinfinitenerd @toe-vind-ek-jou @ink-and-starlight @blank-bakabane @sunshineonloki your tag doesn’t work bb

[trumpkinhotboy]

All in good time

Pairing: Jacob Black x f!reader

Type: Not requested

Genre: Kinda fluffy i'd say

Warnings: None!

Rating: g

Requests: Open (for Narnia and Twilight, maybe?😳)

A/n: Alright, alright, I know I said this blog was going to be centralized on Narnia stuff, but lately I've really gotten back in my Twilight phase🥴 Plus, I had a really shitty week and needed a pick me up. Jacob is one of my biggest comfort characters so I felt it was only suiting. I hope you'll enjoy it😬 I suggest reading this while listening to any kind of Twilight ambiance playlist.☺Also, I know my title sucks HAHA. Couldn't think of anything better so yea, I'm sorry, but this is what you get

Update: changed my title huhu!

* gif is not mine!!

There were days that just deeply and inherently... sucked. Days where everything seemed out of rhythm, where no matter how hard you tried, it all seemed wrong; it all fell apart.

Today was one of those days. When your dad jokingly said: "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed." you did not think it the tiniest of bit funny. When you opened one of the kitchen cabinets to get your favorite brand of cereals and found an empty box, you almost threw a full-on seven-year-old crying on the floor tantrum. Especially when you saw the half-emptied bowl sitting in the sink. Too bad, no breakfast for you this morning. Ridiculous, immature, and not changing anything? Yes, of course, but you still did it out of pure spite. As if that would punish anyone else than you.

Like any other day in Forks, it was raining, nothing awful here, if it was not for the fact that the window on the driver’s side hadn’t been properly closed. Your seat was by now totally drenched. With your pants completely soaked you rode to school, your knuckles turning white from angrily gripping the wheel. Once you arrived, it seemed that everyone was annoyingly happy and enthusiastic while you just couldn’t get out of your personal, unchangeable, black cloud. Not to help, your friends only kept making fun of your moody behavior. Could you not be taken seriously on one of your worst days?

In your least favorite class, you were horrified to see written in big letters on the board:

“20% exam!! Leave your personal effects in front of the class.”

You would have run away if it wasn’t for the flow of students coming in to push you further in the classroom. Convinced the exam was for the next week, you did not even open the pages of your manual concerning the subject. It is with panic and exasperation that you sat at your desk waiting for your doom. Did you need to add that along with all that bull crap of a day, the only person who could have made your day a little less annoying was, once again missing. No calls, no texts, no news, nothing. Probably on another mission with the rest of his mutant gang. You got to the Rez after school, hoping you would see him, but were only welcomed by Leah and Seth. It almost felt like they were waiting for you as they were sitting outside of Billy’s house. Why they were the only ones left here was a mystery for you. The pack usually always stayed together.

- “Where are the others?”

- “On some kind of mission around the lands.”

- “Is everything alright?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Then why are you two here?”

The answer Seth gave you while chewing loudly on yet, another snack, made you grith your teeth so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your mouth.

- “To protect you.”

- “I thought it was nothing, so why would I need protection?”.

- “You should talk about it with Black. He’s the one who ordered us to stay to watch over you or something.”

- “I am PERFECTLY capable of WATCHING OVER MYSELF.” you answered a little louder than expected, anger rumbling in your chest. That earned you some awkward looks from your two friends, but at this point, it didn’t even matter, you were seeing red.

Leah, never intimated by you, shrugged her shoulders. Seth looking a little bit more nervous still laughed at your display of anger. Jacob was the one assigning babysitters over you? Of course, you and he would have a little discussion, that mutt would not see it coming.

When you got back home, you called your father to warn him; there was no way you would be cooking dinner. With your luck, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you burnt the whole house down. Fortunately, he was in good mood (unfair) and answered there was no problem; he would get pizza. He got home with the box in hand and a “Hey sweet...heart”. One quick look at your rough appearance and frustrated expression and his mouth closed shut. He dropped politely, almost carefully, a plate with a slice of pizza before quickly leaving for the couch. You mostly played with the food, incapable of swallowing it down, looking at the forest many times, waiting, expecting to see a tall figure appear on its verge but nothing. Time passed, still no sign of life. There was no way that by now Leah or Seth didn’t give him your message. You had time to wash the dishes, do some homework, and get in your sweats. At 7:30 pm you gave up; he wasn’t coming. Your father was still watching TV, completely oblivious to your growing anger. You picked up his plate to put it in the sink but tripped and dropped it, the delicate plate exploded into a thousand pieces.

- “Y/n? Everything okay?”

- “Y..ea.. an accident. I’ll pick it up.”

There was a slight tremolo in your voice. That was it. Your day had been terrible with no sign of sun, and this broken plate would be your breaking point as ridiculous as it sounded. You leaned on the counter, head hanging low, feeling tears of frustration swelling up in your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you looked up; in a second you were out the back door.

- “Where you going?” you heard your father ask.

- “Getting the trash out.”

The figure backed in the woods as you rushed into them without hesitation. You smacked against something big and warm, warmer than it was normal to be, yet you had become quite accustomed to it.

- “You little piece of shit.” your index finger digging in his chest. “You weren’t even here today, and it was terrible, and you can’t do this. I do not need any PROTECTION. Oh my god, do you really think I am weak and helpless without you or Leah or Seth or ANY werewolf to protect me?!”

He didn’t interrupt your monologue, only looking at you spitting your anger out.

- “You are SO annoying. Honestly who- who do you think you- are?! I’m- I am not, I can DEFINITELY, I don’t ne-eed any-one.” Your speech was becoming less and less coherent, your emotions taking control of your mind.

Without waiting any longer for you to finish your incoherent thought, he pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.

- “You can’t do this to me I’m an-ang-angry...”.

- “Shhh, it’s okay.”

- “You-you weren’t there.” you gave up fighting him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

- “I’m sorry, Leah told me.”

- “Wh- why didn’t you come sooner?” you continued, sobbing.

- “Some wolf things, Paul got in trouble.“ you backed off, immediately lifting your head at the mention of one of your friends in trouble.

- “Is he okay?”

- “Of course, he is, but Sam was very upset this time.” he stroked the side of your face with a small smile. “Enough with the boys, tell me what's wrong.”

- “Everything. I left my car window opened my seat was drenched. At school, everyone was disgustingly happy and in a good mood. I did not know I had an exam, I didn’t even study the subject. And this morning, my dad half ate the rest of my favorites cereals, and then I didn’t eat anything else as a silent protest, I know that’s stupid, but”

- “You didn’t eat anything else?”

- “Yeah, but I…” you lifted your gaze to meet his disapproving one. “I mean, I must have eaten a snack at lunch today…”

- “Must have?” he looked angrier.

- “Y/n??? Where are you??”

The calling of your father interrupted your conversation; he looked in its direction.

- “You should go back inside before your dad comes out.”

- “What? No, please. Can’t you kidnap me for tonight?” he chuckled lightly.

- “Trust me, go back in, okay?”

You looked at him unsure, even though you knew he was worthy of your trust. You finally nodded before running back inside.

- “What took you so long?”

- “Oh, uh, I thought I saw something and got a little carried away.”

- “Mokay, I don’t like you being so close to the woods. We’ve still had a few complaints about some trekkers finding traces of big animals in the woods. I’d prefer you be careful, alright?” You held up a smile, thinking about your friend just outside.

- “Sure.”

You stayed in the middle of the living room, expecting, waiting to see Jacob’s next move. You expected something quick, but when ten minutes later, there were still no signs of him, you felt frustration rising again. Not sure what to do now, you sat next to your father, half paying attention to what was happening on the screen. If he just left you, he was going to pay for it. You needed him, and just like that, he was gone? Probably, got called away by Sam again. Maybe it wasn’t in his control? But if it was…

Knock. Knock.

You looked up, surprised. The door opened with a creaking sound.

- “Oh, Jacob. Hi, what are you doing here?”

- “Hi Charlie, I heard Y/n had a pretty bad day. Came to kidnap her, if that's okay?”

- “Bad day? That’s an understatement. I swear, at one point, I thought she was going to scream at me. I ate her last bowl of cereal this morning; the thing was disgusting, I only ate half of it. I don’t think that helped.” You heard your friend’s low chuckle. Your dad seemed to feel pretty guilty about his crime, which did make you feel a tad bit better. “But yeah sure. Y/n! You have a visitor.”

You walked to them, Jacob awkwardly fitting in your small house; he seemed so disproportionate with his imposing size. For once, he was wearing actual clothes, a shirt and a pair of jeans, a sign he wasn’t planning on having to transform tonight. A sign that he was planning on being entirely dedicated to you.

- “Ready to go? I’m kidnaping you.” He said that last part with a smirk, a hint to your previous request.

- “Sure.” You grabbed your coat, said goodbye to your dad, and left without waiting any longer.

First, he took you away to get some food in you. It wasn’t until your teeth were digging inside a delicious burger that you realized just how hungry you were. Jacob being the glutton that he is, ordered two cheeseburgers along with a pack of large fries. You went for a milkshake, the perfect dessert for a night like this, and took your victuals to the La Push beach. It was empty and peaceful; the sun was slowly going down, the wind just a whisper in the night. It wasn’t even that cold, but the excuse to snuggle into Jake’s wolfish warmth was too good to pass.

- “Feeling better?” he asked while wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

- “Yes. Thanks, Jake.”

- “Kidnapping mission was a success?”

- “Yes, it was.” You answered with a smile.

- “Alright.” He muttered under his breath, looking in the distance.

You stayed for a while in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence.

- “So, what were you saying about me not being there today, like that made your day worst?”

His question took you by surprise. A look at his cocky expression was all it took you to punch him in the ribs as hard as you could.

- “You wish idiot.”

He laughed at your attack, he probably didn't even feel a thing but leveled his face with yours in all seriousness.

- “You can avoid this conversation for now since you had a shit day and all, but keep in mind, it’s not over.”

- “And you keep in mind that our discussion about you ordering werewolves to stay behind to protect me, is not over. You won’t get away easily with that one Black.”

He laughed again, visibly amused with your threat. You laughed too but were slightly less amused. These two conversations were important ones, although one you apprehended way more. You looked at Jacob's happy expression and felt a fuzzy feeling warming your body. No, right now was not the time for such serious topics.

All in good time, right?

...

Tagging my two gals because they know how nervous I was😭...@imjustdreamingig @gonzalezyon I did it gals🥺 I hope you'll like it, thank you so much for your support💕💕

[reidecorating]

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift. 

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :) 

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding. 

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do. 

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it. 

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request. 

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door. 

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well. 

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake. 

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :) 

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

 ∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-” 

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far. 

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way. 

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist. 

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?” 

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally  drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him. 

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,” 

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders. 

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen  at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,” 

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing,  trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud. 

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come. 

[barzzal]

Barzy takes you skating for the first time & you’re really bad at it

“don’t you dare let go of me!” you exclaimed, voice high and increasingly on guard as mat holds you close to his side, his hand firmly holding onto yours, the other securing enough allowance on your waist.

your alarmed breathing and dilated irises were only met by mathew’s grave disregard of your already wobbling knees on the ice. it’s safe to say he even has the boldness to laugh at your predicament he finds rather amusing.

“mat, i’m not kidding.” you tell him, your hand gripping onto him tighter, inching your way to the center of the local rink he had booked for the day just so he could finally teach you how to skate.

“babe come on, i’m not letting go.” he assures you and adds, “just follow my lead, eh?”

hesitant and weary, you cautiously nod your head still in protest to another one of your boyfriend’s ridiculous ideas. to think you cancelled your book hunt for this just made the narrative worse because you’d rather spend the day scouting first edition of classic literature than spend it with the man you trust the least in his element.

mat starts at a pace he’s no longer used to. it was steady, yes, but slow doesn’t necessarily mean it’s accustomed to his liking. the ice have been a part of his life. this is his ocean— and at that moment, there’s nothing else he wanted to do but to swim.

of course, he couldn’t do that now. not when he’s lodging a squealing woman who’s likely to fall on her ass at any moment. a thought mat didn’t like for he knew he’d get into a giant mess if he lets you trip and fall on your face.

“you go like this— and then put your weight on your dominant foot so you can glide.” he instructs, showing you the basics of skating.

you have only skated a handful of times in your life and that was when you were still a kid. you never bothered learning how to skate on the ice all the way because you figured such skill won’t come in handy in the future. much to your surprise, even after years of avoiding the rink, you ended up dating a man who happened to skate for a living.

you follow mathew’s lead despite feeling agitated with every movement you make. rusty was an understatement. you guarantee that a baby bird can even fly higher and better than you could ever glide on the ice.

half an hour went by, albeit feeling as if the whole day has gone but the sun was far from setting and neither did you in your skating shoes. mat pushes himself in front of you, eyes darted on yours as if to test the waters. his irises looked soft— assuring you that no harm would come your way even after what he’s about to do next.

“baby, we’re getting off the ice with two skaters. that means you’re learning from here on out. d’you still remember what i thought you?” he asks, voice firm yet not so much so as to intimidate you.

you blink a couple of times and swallowed thickly before nodding your head yes. “don’t think about it too much, mkay?”

“okay.” you almost whisper, forcing a smile. however, that very same smile faded when mat lets go of your hand. you wanted to hold onto him longer but he was rather quick in pulling away and skating to the other side of the rink.

“i told you not to let go, you dumbass!!” you yell, holding your body weight altogether to prevent yourself from slipping in less than a minute without mathew by your side.

mat places both of his hands on his hips, going on idle circles, evidently trying to show off. “you won’t learn unless you do it yourself.” he shouts back with a tone that’s only enough for you to hear.

“oh, you’re in so much trouble.” you warn him. to which mat only answered with a mocking shrug, “how am i in trouble? you can’t even move an inch. come on, baby.”

you roll your eyes, irked at how effective mathew’s teaching was. you knew he only meant well and he was right. there was no way you’ll learn this seemingly easy task if you always have him by your side.

you take a deep breath, the air visible when you exhaled. if you fall, you fall. you think to yourself as you finally move wearily away from the center of the rink.

you hear mat throw encouraging words your way but your mind was already somewhere else. you couldn’t think of anything other than not letting yourself face plant on the ice. the last thing you want was to hear mat bragging endlessly about how good of a driver and a skater he is more than you.

you take every advice mat has given you and did exactly what he told you along the way. your eyes were pinned hard on the ice with every glide you make. the sound of the blade on the ice filling your head, zoning you out of your own reach.

you were nowhere where you started, and mat had nothing but a proud smile on his face as he watches you work your way towards him.

you could’ve sworn that that was the longest time you’ve ever burnt in your life not until mat’s strong hands finally returned their grasp on your waist, making you realize that you’ve come far to the other side without falling.

mat’s eyes were glinting with so much glory and pride upon meeting his gaze, “you did it!” he marvels, letting you take in a goal that despite not being on your bucket list, still needed to be crossed out and celebrated.

you were still in shock about actually doing it that you needed a second to look back where you were just standing a while ago.

“oh my god— i didn’t fall!!” you cheered, looking back at mat who didn’t fail in reciprocating your glee.

“i told you you can do it!” he says, his embrace enough to leap your feet off the ice with so much euphoria.

mat couldn’t help himself from kissing you on the cheek, his smile bright as day and his cheeks a bit rosy from the cold.

“am i still in trouble?” he asks, feigned upon remembering your threat from a while back.

“a few more practices, you’ll be.” you say with a definitive tone. arching your brow as you maintain having your arms wrapped around his nape.

“a little bit cocky, don’t you think?”

“i only learn from the best.“

[darkdevasofdestruction]

When You Become A Fallen

(( This premise is about reader being one of the Seraphim, and she was/fell in love with one of the brothers, which made God shun her from the Celestial Realm, and thus, how each of the brothers helps her through her transformations to a Demon and her new lifestyle. ))

---

LUCIFER

Quite frankly, he took it the hardest, as he too was a Seraph back in the days, God’s most beloved angel, and the descend changed him a lot, even if he doesn’t want to admit.

When he saw your broken form on the ground, he cradled your body close to his chest, feeling fear and panic just as when Lilith almost died, so he went to plead to Diavolo to allow you permanent stay in the Devildom as well, saying that he’ll do anything for this favour, just like before.

Centuries passed since he descended, and while he still has nightmares of what happened, the pain and transformation were something that he forced himself to forget, at least for his own pride and ego, but seeing you in such excruciating pain was an even worse torture than before.

He knew there was little he or anyone else could do regarding all this, but he will be there by your side for the whole duration of it, no matter how long it took, be it days, weeks or months, he wouldn’t be pried away from you.

For the most of the day, Lucifer had you sit on his lap, both of you wearing light sleeping wear, so you could feel each other’s body heat, thinking it would help ease the pain, even by a little.

However, as soon as your 3 pairs of majestic, pure white wings started blankening, while one of the pairs also started burning, feather by feather, you became unreasonable, as you couldn’t even think or speak properly because of the agony surging through your every artery, vein, capillary and nerve in your body.

You were desperately clinging to him, scratching his back and arms, screeching for forgiveness, begging him to kill you already and end this pain, questioning what you did wrong, except have pure and unwavering  feelings of love for someone, and all Lucifer could do was hold you tightly, a had on the back of your head, putting your face on the crook of his neck, while the other was on your back, putting you glued to his chest, trying to keep you still and potentially causing yourself more damage.

“WHY, GOD, WHY?! WHAT HAVE I DONE SO WRONG TO FALL OUT OF YOUR GRACES?! IS IT REALLY FORBIDDEN TO FOLLOW YOUR HEART AND FEELINGS?! CURSE YOU! CURSE THE CELESTIAL REALM! CURSE ALL YOUR FUCKING ANGELS! YOU ARE A MONSTERS!” you kept crying out, cursing the skies, and Lucifer, in his head and heart, was yelling the same thing as you were.

His own heart was crying out in despair seeing his beloved like that, and for the first time since Lilith, he shed tears of pure sorrow, cursing God, the Celeastial Realm and all the angels there, and more, cursing himself for allowing both of them to become lovers back when they were angels, because his act of rebelling against God only brought you intense suffering.

There is nothing Lucifer wouldn’t do for you, no matter how impossible it seemed, but you are the only person he ever had such a connection with, so he treasures you as much as his own brothers.

He knows how difficult it was for him to completely accept he was a Demon and blend in to this new place, but he will be there for you to guide and teach you with every step you took, always holding you hand, always giving you genuine and tender smiles to help you feel more at ease, and of course, he will make sure you room with him so you won’t ever be alone and afraid again.

---

MAMMON

He freaks out so bad at first, questioning you out loud a thousand questions, while fidgeting from leg to leg and looking around for help.

Why were you here? Why were you injured? What happened? Are you alright?

Of course you weren’t alright, damn it! Stupid Mammon! Do something!

He picked you up and brought you to Lucifer, crying desperately and asking what the hell he was supposed to do, because he had no idea what the hell happened and why you were the way you are, and for the first time in ages, Lucifer didn’t yell at him, nor did he insult him - He actually helped him as much as he could, because he knew what was going on, and his heart broke at seeing his beloved little brother crying like that.

In his room, you wouldn’t stop crying and holding your head - You had migraines, your scalp was burning, your whole skin felt ablaze, you felt akin to a witch being burnt alive, and poor Mammon was crying along with you, not knowing if he should touch you, in fear of hurting you more, or holding you tightly and letting you cry away everything that hurt.

Mammon tried to kiss your tears away, put on music to help you keep your mind away from the pain, tried to tell you silly stories from his failed plans, or from his brothers to make you laugh, but in the end, nothing really helped, and he felt that the sky fell on him.

That is, until he turned away from you, gripping his hair in despair as he was running out of ideas to help you and his heart was being ripped apart more and more...But you gripped on his jacket and pulled him in a tight embrace from the back, resting your forehead on the blades of his shoulders, making him stop dead in his track, stiff as a board.

“Mammon, it hurts...Mammon, don’t leave me, please...Please keep on staying me me. Don’t leave me again. I missed you so much...So much that I didn’t even realise that the whole Celestial Realm knew I was in love with you ever since you were an angel...Everyone knew, except for me...But I missed you so much...And they said it’s forbidden. But I can’t live without you.” you sobbed, your fingers and nails digging into his chest as you confessed your sin and the reason you got in this position, which frankly, it made Mammon feel both guilty and even more head over heels with you.

Honestly, nobody ever expressed their feelings to him the way you did, unless it was Stupid Mammon left and right...But you...You were being so genuine and pure...You were real...You loved him...And now there was no barrier between you two...

He cursed himself for being happy with what happened, despite your agony, but he was a greedy man, and he craved your affection more than flowers need the Sun, so he continued to try to put a smile on your face and make the transformation easier to bear with.

Realising that your horns were beginning to grow, he transformed into his demon self and taking your hands in his gingerly, he put them over his own horns, reassuring you that everything will be okay, that they will grow pretty fast and all the agony will go away soon.

When the transformation was done, he was extremely overprotective of you becoming a student at RAD, dragging you with him everywhere, but he tried to be more responsible this time, as he had to take care of you and he couldn’t risk some angry witches or other demons attacking you to get to him.

--- LEVIATHAN

Kinda like Mammon, he was panicked beyond belief, not understanding how the hell did you get yourself in that position, but instead of freaking out, he kinda looked at you, stunned, unmoving, until he finally managed to snap out of it and carried you to his room, while calling Lucifer and telling him the gist of it.

Levi knew that his room was incredibly aesthetic and relaxing, having an aquatic theme, so hopefully, it will help you bear with the transformation and adaptation to this new life-style easier, and hopefully, not have any problems with blending in, especially since he will be there for you at every step you took.

And if that wasn’t enough, since Levi barely leaves the room, he would shelter you like a mother would her little baby, coddling you, wrapping his tail around you protectively, helping you take slightly cold baths to get rid of the burning and itching sensation of your horns and wings transforming, and showing you Henry 2.0 and promising you that he will be your best friend too.

However, the transformation for you wasn’t as bad as the spiraling and paranoia that seemed to completely engulf you, which made you quite hysterical for a while, and no amount of video games and anime could prepare Levi for this mess.

“Levi, what if they come after me? What if they aren’t happy with me being alive? What if they take me back and try to torture me to death? I don’t want back there again...Levi, I’m afraid, please protect me.” you clutched his blouse while sobbing in his shoulder, and all he could do was hold you tightly and promise you that everything will be okay and he would let nobody touch you again.

He would then start telling you about TSL and how The Lord of Shadows will always be there to protect his Henry, which is when you asked him if he would be your Lord of Shadows, and his face started blushing like crazy, and he vowed to himself that you, his most precious person, will never ever have to feel any kind of pain ever again, and he will be there for you no matter what.

Levi understands what’s like being afraid, nervous, anxious, which is something he often feels himself, and thus, the reason for preferring to take online classes rather than going physically to a classroom, which is something that he will ask for for you too, and thankfully, Lucifer approves of it, understanding the situation.

His hectic sleeping schedule is always messed up by his love for binge-watching and binge-playing, something you often partake into as a way to keep the intrusive thoughts away from your head, and it is rather effective.

However, on the occasions that you’re having a mental breakdown and start spiraling once again, no matter what hour of the day or night it is, Levi will be there to tell you how he loves you, how you’re safe with him, that nobody would ever dare cross Diavolo’s rules on his own domain, and that those angels up there were shitheads for prosecuting you for something as pure as loving someone.

--- SATAN

Out of all the demon brothers, he is obviously the only one who didn’t have to go through the whole metamorphosis ritual, because he never was an angel to begin with.

He knows, however, the excruciating pain that you’re going through, as him and Lucifer share some of the more powerful emotions and memories he used to have, and so, he has an idea, backing up all the stories he heard from 3rd parties, from his brothers and from books.

Satan will make all of his brothers send him thorough voice messages to explain what they went through and how he could help you, and thus, he would be pampering and taking care of you every second, without a second thought.

He couldn’t believe that you truly fell for him after just one year of spending time together, during the exchange-student program, when you came to Devildom...I mean, he was a demon, and while yes, he too fell for you, he was in shock hearing that such a pure and perfect being such as yourself would ever harbour such feelings for him, a demon, and the Avatar of Wrath nonetheless...

“Satan...Why...Why is it such a sin to fall in love? What have I done so cruel...So unforgivable...That I deserve to go through all this pain...All this agony...All I wanted was to be happy...Is that so selfish of me to ask? Am I not allowed to live the rest of my life with someone that I genuinely cherish so much...?” she cried with so much self-hatred that it made Satan want to burn the whole Celestial Realm and torture and rip apart every feather, every limb of those stupid angels and flay them alive, letting the lesser demons eat them.

The pain you’re being subjected to is exhausting you so much, but if you stand still, it feels like it’s hurting tenfold, so you try to keep yourself moving around the room, until you collapse from over-exerting your already frail body.

Satan would only look at you in pity, as he tried to hide the burning rage he harboured in his heart, along with all the death-threats he wanted to throw away at God and all the stupid angels who dared do this to you, so he picks you up gently, putting you on his bed, puts a light blanket over you and goes to prepare a cup of calming tea that has somnolent effects, hoping that it would help you heal faster and regain some of your strength through resting.

He would hold you close to his chest, kissing your forehead, stroking your hair, trying to keep you drowsy and calm, while also reading you one very interesting book, Harrison Porter, as it had lots of magic spells and he could show you the spells, to fascinate you, and try to keep your thoughts away from the pain.

Of course, he would be researching all remedies, spells and treatments to help ease the pain, so he would be rubbing creams with and lotions on your back and on your wings, to calm down the pain, would put spells on you to give you sweet dreams every night, and would always hold you tightly and promise you that nobody would ever come with any ill-intent towards you, and that he would kill anyone who dares even look at you the wrong way.

Since he has always been a demon, he is very popular and sociable, so blending in would be much easier with him by your side, as he would take you as his date everywhere - Be it a sports game, a theater play, an opera play, a ballet, a social gathering, a ballroom dance, a drive-outside cinema, or colour festival, a concert...Or literally anything.

---

ASMODEUS

No matter how dramatic and extra Asmo loves to be, this was no joking matter, and the person he knew he could always rely on, and that was his eldest brother, Lucifer, the only being that he ever looked up to, that he ever admired - Lucifer, the one who used to be a Seraph, just like you.

He wanted to understand what Lucifer went through, because sure, Asmo knew the physical transformations his brother went through, but he couldn’t know of the emotional trauma, or how different it was for him, as he was, after all, the highest-ranking angel in the Celestial Realm.

He then correlated with how disgusted he remembered both himself and Lucifer felt when looking into the mirror and realising they weren’t the divine beings from before, but a wretched abomination, and how long it took them to come to terms with the idea, and finally try to find the specks of beauty that others saw in them, despite the changes.

It was true, you went through a lot of pain, exhaustion, mental breakdowns, trauma, all because of how agonising the transformation was, and Asmo was there for you to brighten up and ease you through everything, not wanting you to be alone, like they were, so seeing his gorgeous and loving smile always seemed to make the corners of your mouth tilt upwards, even by a little bit.

Asmo would cuddle you and pamper you with an infinite amount of kisses, and of course, would give you frequent back rubs, wing massages, scalp massages, knowing that those were the most painful and affected areas, and thankfully enough, all the beauty products he used on you were cool and had calming and painkilling effects, so at least was better for you.

When it was all over, however, the horror didn’t end, as you saw yourself in the mirror and fell to your knees shrieking at your new appearance...That wasn’t you...It couldn’t be you...This...This abomination...This tainted thing...

Your desperation and self-hatred were so through the roof that you punched the mirror and clutched the shards in your hands, not even feeling any pain, because everything was ablaze anyway, and not even your tears could pull out the fire inside you.

Asmo was devastated seeing you like this, it made him want to sob, to pull you to his chest and cry out, telling him how he hates seeing you like this, that you remind him of himself, that deep inside him, despite all the narcissism he puts on display, he is also still a bit insecure and wishes he had the same appearance as before...But what hurt him the most was seeing you hating yourself so much, and having ended up like him, just because your heart chose the wrong person to have such intense feelings for.

“This is not me...This can’t be me...Asmodeus, what the hell is wrong with your mirror, it’s broken...It’s cursed...This isn’t me, this isn’t how I look...It can’t be...My wings...My feathers...They are all black...And these horns...And this gem...And the markings...This new outfit...What is this...Why...Why me...Why...?! Why am I being cursed for being in love?! Is this how ugly, tainted and abominable my soul is?! Is that why I look like this?! Is that WHY I became this?!” you tore away at your hair, as Asmo could only fix the mirror quickly, to avoid you getting more injured, and cradled your smaller form to his chest, whispering reassuring words and compliments.

He would do all his beauty routines with you, would compliment you endlessly, would make you try out a thousand and more outfits that he bought for you, showing you off, taking pics of you and boasting with you on DevilGram, since you’re the most gorgeous babe alive and he’s lucky to have you in his life, and now, you and him are the most beautiful couple ever to exist, without a doubt.

He would never tell you all the emotional trauma and self-hatred he went through, because as long as he could make you smile and help teach you how to love yourself again, and see the beauty in your new appearance, Asmodeus was happy and didn’t need anything else.

--- BEELZEBUB

For poor Beel, this was the whole Lilith problem all over again, blaming and hating himself for letting her die (sort of), and now, here you were, a Fallen, broken, lost, depressed, all because you loved him, and he loved you, but he rebelled and now you were caught in the crossfire.

No matter how kind and sweet he is, this is the second time the Celestial Realm crushed his heart and stomped on his feelings, hurting the people he loves most, and this was too much...He would never be able to forgive them, no matter what...And especially not his Father for being so cruel with the angels that loved him so much and were beyond devout to him.

For him, the changes weren’t as painful, and that may be because of his built, and how he finds it easier to deal with physical pain, rather than the emotional one, as he feels like he’s getting blow after blow in that aspect, but he must be strong, for you, for Belphie, for Lilith and for his brothers too.

Beel knows he’s very physically strong, even by demon standards, so he will be a bit afraid at the beginning to touch you, fearing that he will make you hurt more than you already do, but as soon as you nestle yourself in his embrace, he can’t help himself and he puts his arms around you, making you feel safer, protected, and you can deal the agony better, even by a bit.

If he could, he would take away all the pain that you’re feeling, he would go through all that agony a thousands times, just so he could spare you all this pain, he would volunteer to get his wings burnt, grow a new set of horns, would even let himself go through all the paranoia, the nightmares, the burning feeling of your skin...Even the incapacity to eat demon food...Only to spare you of all that horror...

But that wasn’t possible, unfortunately, so all he could do was stay by your side through all of it and try to make it more bearable, because, after all, he still had Belphie, so he wasn’t alone, and neither will you be.

He completely forgot how, at the beginning, for quite a long time, his body refused to digest demon food, so he would get sick and vomit every time he would try to eat something, but was quickly reminded when you made a sprint to the bathroom and he could only hold your hair as you puked your guts out, crying at the pain.

“Why do I have to go through this...God...Why...The wings...The horns...And now, I can’t even eat? Am I supposed to just starve to death...? Is that what you want, Father? Is this the Divine Punishment I get for wanting my loved ones to be safe? That I wanted to see you and tell you how much I care for you, because I never got the chance when you were still an angel? Is that how angels should really be? Hateful of others? Then I’m glad I don’t have to associate myself with such cruel creatures like you, Father!” you growled in anger, frustration, pain, hatred and agony, letting out all your feelings that have been bottled up for so many centuries, but at least now, Beel was there to hold you tight and tell you that everything will be okay, and you still have him.

He would completely stop eating around you, because despite being the Avatar of Gluttony, he couldn’t possibly tempt you with food and make you feel worse, so every so often, he would bring you some light human food, like crackers, water, milk, some vegetables, toast, to help you get some nutrients for your body, so you won’t collapse, at least, even though it was obvious you were becoming paler and skinnier, which worried Beel a lot.

Even so, Beel was always by your side, carrying you if you felt weak at some moment, helping you eat bit by beat, making sure you get a healthy portions, and just the right foods, integrating some little bits of demon food, and before you knew it, you were completely able to have a proper demon meal, and were getting better.

From then on, you will always sleep in his bed, either cuddling or holding hands, because both of you are afraid of losing the other, of having through go through all that torture again, but at least the day was much brighter and you could inally go out together and live your life as a normal student in Devildom would.

--- BELPHEGOR

The Avatar of Sloth has so much pent up rage and hatred, that he may need to take over the title of Avatar of Wrath before long.

First, hating the whole human world, because of Lilith’s death, hating demons because of the misunderstanding with Diavolo and Lucifer, and now, wanting to burn and torture to death the whole Celestial Realm for shunning you like that, letting you to rot, broken, on the ground, as if you were worth less than a vermin.

It took every ounce of self-control Belphegor had to stop himself from unleashing his hatred on the world, and get you to his room to tend to you, hoping and doing his best to make sure you are alright.

He is going to force Beel to keep him awake, because, due to his Avatar Sin, he is prone to falling asleep quite easily, which would only be counter-productive and he wouldn’t be able to sooth your pain and fears this way, so he’s going to sacrifice days and nights of sleep just to make sure you’re not crying anymore.

No matter how harsh his speech is, it does a complete 180 when it comes to you, he will speak in the softest voice possible, would look at you with the most tender look on his face, would give you lost of reassuring gentle kisses, would stroke your hair soothingly, while also humming an old lullaby that Lilith used to sing to him, and would brush away the hair from your face, to see your gorgeous eyes sparkling.

He hates seeing you in so much pain, but every time he curses the angels in his head, he’s just going to hug you tighter, as a way to stop himself from crying at your misfortune, because you’re too pure and kind, you don’t deserve to go through all this pain, it’s just not fair...

What was worse is that, after all this physical mess ended, the emotional and mental one only began, as you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep, because of all the nightmares plaguing your mind all the time, waking you up, making you cry and scream, tremble in fear and anxiety, while all Belphie could do was to hug you tightly, turn on the light, and tell you the same generic reassuring words because...What else was there for him to even say anymore?!

“I’m scared, Belphie, I’m scared...I’m afraid that if I fall asleep, I’m just going to get more nightmares, and maybe I won’t even wake up after that. I’m afraid that if I wake up, you will be taken away from me...Or that they will drag me back to the Celestial Realm to torture me for treason...I’m afraid I’ll have to go through all that over and over and over again...Belphie, I’m exhausted, I’m losing my mind...I just want to have one fucking night of proper sleep...Just one...Is that too much to ask? Am I really that undeserving of feeling rested, just because I fell in love? Is that how things are for those perfect frauds up there?!” you sobbed, clinging on Belphie, as he could only curse them together with you, giving you approving words, and cuddling with you, you try to fall asleep on his cow-patterned pillow, lights still on, drinking a cup of hot milk with honey, thanks to Beel who went to prepare some for the both of you.

Even for him, who has been a demon for so long, nightmares never ended, but at least they weren’t as frequent as yours, so to help you out, even by a bit, he started looking around for remedies, spells, drinks, to get you into a deep sleep with no dreams, at least for now, to help you regain even a bit of your strength back and not be a zombie anymore.

Belphie would get incredibly passive-aggressive and protective of you, growling at anyone that may be considered a threat to you, that approaches you, and wouldn’t let you alone for even a second, in fear of somehow losing you - You’re either with him, or with one of his brothers, or in yours or his room, and frankly, you’re happy knowing that you can finally feel a sense of security after so long.

[shiiko529]

kinda forgot that i had started posting this one (way back in may!) whoops >.>;;

i also didn’t have anything else ready to post this week because the next couple of scenes for the other fics are being difficult/slow :/ and im trying to hold off on posting something new (and equally unfinished)

i think a lot of people are busy with holiday/end of year stuff right now anyway

first/previous scene (day 0 - ancient egypt AU, ryou finds an injured tkb & helps him, then gets kidnapped (but only for a month))

day 1-

    The kid wasn't just passively resisting like he had the previous night, he was actively struggling against the man's attempt to drag him outside.

    “We don’t have time for this!”

    “The light hurts my eyes and burns my skin!” The pale boy shouted back.

    "Then keep them closed!"

    "But-!"

    The man huffed, exasperated, "Look, for the next month, I need you alive. So you're just going to have to trust me."

    The boy was justifiably unsure if he could trust the criminal, having been effectively stolen from his parents, but he didn’t have much by way of options, and so far the man, despite the threats, hadn’t actually hurt him. It also helped when the man relinquished his cloak to keep his pale skin from getting sun-burnt.

~

    They were going too slow. The wound in his side was starting to ache, and the boy, even if he hadn't kept tripping and stumbling because he couldn't see properly, it was obvious he wasn't used to this much physical exertion. It didn't help that neither of them had gotten much sleep.

    “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

    After a few minutes of waiting the boy sat down, it was starting to get hot, his feet and legs were sore and he was so very tired. He had started to doze off when the man finally returned, riding a, most likely stolen, horse.

    The thief jumped down and kicked the boy in the leg, growling, "Get up."

    He grabbed the boy's hips and easily lifted the thin frame onto the horse's back before climbing up behind him. They rode for hours, neither speaking, the criminal had nothing he felt obligated to tell the kid and the boy clearly didn't want to talk to him.

    It was evening when the thief stopped the horse in front of a tavern. The boy woke with a yelp as the chest he had been leaning against was suddenly no longer supporting him. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but between the rhythmic movement of the horse, the heat of the day, and simply being tired, he couldn't manage to stay awake.

    The thief was not remotely trying to be discreet as he pulled the boy into the tavern, tossing a golden bracelet to the man behind the bar and practically yelling, "I want lots of food and a room."

    As they ate, another of the tavern's patrons approached them, clearly drunk. "Hey! I know who you are! I'm gonna be so rich when I tell the guards that I found the King-"

    The drunken man's words were cut off, literally, by a knife in his throat. The thief merely resumed eating while the man bled out onto the floor.

    'The King' dread washed over the boy as he realized exactly who the man he was with was - the King of Thieves. A criminal so notorious even he, in his secluded life, had heard of. The King of Thieves was famous, not just for theft, but murder - anyone who crossed him did so at extreme risk to themselves.

    There was only one bed in the room they were given, so the boy again found himself getting very little sleep, curled up in a corner.   ---- Day 2

[anerdinallherglory]

Approaching Sun (30)

Author’s Note: Happy late Valentine’s Day! Fun note: I actually started A.S. on this very same holiday a couple years back. And I did not expect the length or plot this story has taken at allll. Again, I am sorry this is so late. I am hoping to update a LOT more this summer (only one summer class this time!) Unless I get the new job that I am hoping for (fingers crossed). But if I get this job, my free time to write will really open up for me. So it’s a win-win for this story either way.

Also, I want to especially thank these readers: adarkunicorn, softshelldefence, seafoamsands, hatakeliz, harza4925, peachop, cheese-and-biscuits, epitomeofprocrastination, tamnobela, and andreeastroe. These readers really encouraged me to keep writing this story after I was ready trash and take it off all of its publishing sites. You can thank them this story continues.

To all my reviewers, I seriously love you ALL. I am hoping I will get to a point where I can take a break from student emails and respond to each and every one of your reviews in the future. That will be my new year’s resolution this year! I am going to be better. You are all amazing and bring me so much joy and encouragement.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29

Chapter 30: A Very Dangerous Game

Sasuke hated Kaguya’s sand dimension even more than he disliked the desert that covered the vast majority of the Land of Wind. This dimension was forever hot despite that the dimension’s otherworldly moon hung low in the dark horizon, a massive orb of blinding white that mirrored the Earth’s moon in exact replica. Sasuke had always felt like the illusion was a reminder of the Otsusuki people, and that Kaguya had designed this dimension to display something that reminded her of home. To Sasuke, the dimension moons eerily reminded him of Kaguya’s pupil-less irises, always watching the spaces that existed between nothing.

Glaring at it in paranoid response, Sasuke, deprived of chakra now, walked toward it slowly and determinedly as a challenge. He would show her exactly how her dimensions were now his domains. The Uchiha decided he would walk freely here because he couldn’t do as he pleased his own world. He wanted to scream curses at that eye-like globe, demanding the Otsusuki show up and take him on now in his weakened state.

“Come on!” he screamed. “All of you! What are you waiting for? Let’s get this over with! I will find you all eventually!” He wanted it done. He wanted this over. He wanted to have a life despite his promise to be the worlds’ sacrifice for peace.

As if to taunt him, Sasuke’s shuffling feet snagged over something in the sand, and he glanced down at his feet in surprise. A ninja’s vest, half-burnt away from acid, displayed itself like a green bearing flag left behind by those who had explored a barren planet. Even though Sasuke had been the only human to ever walk here, Sakura’s old vest that Sasuke had used as a teleport connection between dimensions back when he had been trapped here, always served as a call to his more current jumps. In other words, every time Sasuke had come here over the past couple of years, no matter where he opened the portal, he would always land within a few feet of it.

In the past, he had thought of removing it because it was a painful reminder in many ways. But as he returned consistently to the same spot, Sasuke began to theorize that it had something to do with his ability to travel here. At first, Sasuke believed it was because during teleportation, his path crisscrossed into a connection that had already been created and used before—this was the most likely explanation; his chakra simply wasn’t strong enough to rip a new tear in the fabric of space and time. But as he looked at it now, Sasuke wondered if there was more to it than that. Did emotions tie him to this piece of fabric? And because Sasuke’s friends always existed somewhere in the back of his mind, did his chakra seek it out as something familiar to secure itself to before flinging him through the vacuum of nothingness?

Sasuke glared back at the moon in hatred, wondering too, if it could be just a sick part of Kaguya’s illusions, knowing that the vest had in the past and always, always would continue to stop the Uchiha in his tracks. A temptation reminding him of a different life, one that would cause him to ignore the Otsusuki. Kaguya would want that.

He sat down beside it despite how much he wanted to turn and walk away from it as he always had. This time, he let it be his beacon out of the void, drawing some sort of strength from it in his chakra-deprived state. The whole point of being this exhausted was to avoid thinking of her, but the tattered shinobi vest always pricked him with guilt, especially now when he had left her alone in Sunagakure despite his promises of partnership. It was as if the green material had a voice of its own, saying “See how far she would go for you?” And Sasuke, keeping his thoughts private from the ever-watching rock above, would think to himself “I am doing this for her, too. She will understand eventually. She will accept just how far I am willing to go for this peace we both envision. We have the same goal.”

As Sasuke thought these thoughts again, Sasuke accepted that if they couldn’t be united in love, then at the very least, they would be united in the same goal, the same vision of happiness. It comforted him ever so slightly.

He sighed as he fingered the chakra pills at his waist, guilt invading his chest and suffocating him. How could he tell her his true feelings and make her accept what he was willing to accept? How could he satisfy the both of them and do the least damage?

Sasuke exhaled and leaned back in the sand once more to sleep, sweat beading across his brow in the high temperature. He turned on his side and faced the vest in exhaustion, pretending it was her—pretending to be satisfied with this small piece of the woman he loved and would ever allow himself to dream this close to.

. . . . . . . . . . .

The blackness pervaded all of Sakura’s senses as soon as her feet hit the ground opposite the giant hole she had just created in the sand. She blinked hard, hearing the cursing and alarmed proclamations of those she had attacked. The darkness was like a leaden mist before her eyes and Sakura instinctively created the sign of “release” for genjutsu. And whether it was from her lack of chakra, or because this was a ninjutsu, Sakura’s attempts yielded zero results. The blackness remained and blinded her past several inches in front of her face. When she heard Isao’s shout for her, she had no choice but to dart forward blindly, determined to reach him before someone else did.

“Let go of me!” the child screamed, his pursuer unfortunately catching up with him. Sakura navigated through the pillars of sand-dripping earth that now projected themselves in the air around her. With hands outstretched, she cursed herself. The blow had meant to disorient her opponents and it had, but this damn thickening darkness made it difficult to move forward through the landscape of her own destruction. Thankfully, the waterfalling crumble of sand masked her rushed footfalls.

The kunoichi drew upon her chakra once more, but it came as slowly as before, the medicine still lingering in her system with its toxic chakra clotting effects. Sakura moved hurriedly ahead, hoping that she wasn’t the only one choked with darkness.

Isao’s curses came and Sakura finally rounded a huge boulder to find herself facing the back of the thug’s head. He had his massive hands around the child’s throat, weapon tossed aside in favor of a crueler death to the victim that had caused him so much trouble. Despite his struggle for his life, Isao made eye contact with her the moment they were close enough to see each other. His attacker saw recognition register in the boy’s eyes and spun to face her. But it was too late. Sakura’s kunai was slicing the gray flesh of his throat before he even had time to see her, a final blow that had been delayed from earlier, but determined by fate to be his cause of death. The brutish ninja dropped to the ground instantly and Sakura justified the blood that pooled freely at her feet by remembering his cruel actions to the child that struggled to catch his breath before her.

Sakura picked up the abandoned weapon, the weight unfamiliar in her hands. The sound of the man’s death had betrayed her position, and the footsteps of his companions crunched closer to her location. Terrified, Sakura clutched the child, pushing him behind the jagged column of rock behind her.

“Isao,” she pleaded in a whisper. “You have to make a run for it.”

“I won’t leave you,” he declared, determined to fight to his death for her.

“The only thing you can do for me now is to go get help,” she said honestly. It was a half-truth. There were only a few realities before them, and Isao making it back to the village and bringing help was not likely due to how much time it would take. But Sakura was desperate to remove the brave child from the scenario. She cared too much to let him sacrifice himself for her.

“Miss—” he protested, but Sakura propelled him forward in the blinding darkness, an enemy’s footsteps rounding the earth that cloaked him. It was too late to argue, and Sakura turned to face the phantom-man who stepped toward her in visibility, shadows curling around him as he cleared a path through the inky mist.

Sakura faced him squarely, taking a defensive stance and raising the wicked katana with her sharper green eyes, sending a stare to him along the metal’s surface. The shadow-wielding ninja smirked and the rest of his crew appeared beside him.

“Go!” she screamed in final command at the child whose feet took off into the black at her back.

Sakura brandished the sword in confident threat at her attackers, herself serving as the shield between herself and Isao; they wouldn’t move an inch in pursuit of his direction if she had anything to do with it. Sakura had never wielded a sword before, but in the absence of chakra, she would become a master at it in this moment. Sakura was a kunoichi, a medic, a chakra control master, the pupil of a legendary Sanin, a rising legend herself, and today, she would add something else to her list. Scratch that. She would two things tonight: she would eradicate this new movement of anti-peace revolutionaries, and she would do it at disadvantage with the weapon of her enemy.

. . . . . . . .

As Isao ran, he clutched his side in pain, a sharp stab in his waist. The man who Sakura had killed moments before must have broken one of his ribs as he crushed Isao to the ground. At first, the young ninja pitched forward in blackness, half-debating to turn back to help the pink-haired ninja. But Isao knew the truth. He had been foolish to pursue her and her kidnappers alone and he cursed himself for his rash decisions in his fear of losing sight of them; he should have told someone else even if he lost their trail. Any of them, anyone at allwould have been better help to Miss Haruno than he had been.

Isao’s bravery amounted to nothing and it was evident in every piercing word from the medic kunoichi: The only thing you can do for me now is to go get help … Isao let the command fuel him forward despite the pain, until the night faded into morning hours later and the mighty walls of the Sand Village came into view.

He didn’t know how much time had passed and he didn’t wait to scream for help. The Kazekage was not in the village—he had overheard that much. Neither was the teammate that traveled with Miss Haruno. He yelled the only name he could think of, the name his heart still cried out to despite how much he hated him. The roaring sand shrouded his cries, and the prison walls would buffer it completely, but Isao begged to the air, shouting over and over, “FATHER! HELP ME!”

. . . . . . . .

The taste of the chakra pill was bitter, smoky and acrid. The Uchiha almost gagged trying to swallow it down, and he silently confirmed that Sai had been right—although Sasuke hated to agree with anything his entitled replacement said. What had he called them? Mudballs? Despite the accurate term, Sasuke feared his kunoichi companion more than he hated the taste, so he would keep the complaint to himself.

The pill pooled in his stomach and Sasuke took a breath, focusing on the ignition starting in his core. The rush of power was exhilarating as it topped off his chakra supply, overflowing visibly in a blue-purple halo around him. It sizzled along his skin and Sasuke grinned wickedly as a spiraling vortex appeared before him, much larger than any he had been able to create on his own before.

This was it! It was working! He pushed beyond the core dimension easily, his ready supply of chakra speedily fueling the tunnel between the void, but it ate and ate away at his energy and the color disappeared from his skin. Running off his own meager supply now, Sasuke exhaled and grinded his teeth in concentration. Finally, the connection was made and Sasuke threw himself through it.

He landed roughly, skidding to a halt, and he was ironically thankful for once for the Land of Wind’s high volume of sand. Sasuke found himself smirking up at the lightening sky as he recovered, because this was his first victory in a long struggle of jumping dimensions. To the Uchiha, it was proof that he was doing exactly what he was meant to do: beat Kaguya and the Otsusuki clan at their own game in their own territory. Giddy in his success, Sasuke used the last of his dwindling energy to rise to his feet, his thoughts immediately turning to the woman who had helped make this all possible—he hadn’t achieved this on his own; Sakura deserved the credit. And it was the first time that Sasuke could admit that he needed someone else’s help in his goal.

The dark walls of Sunagakure cut the bright morning horizon in half and Sasuke’s gut twisted in a combination of emptiness and guilt at the thought of returning to Sunagakure to face his friend after their… kiss. Sasuke was torn between finding her immediately to tell her that their plan had worked, pretending the kiss never happened in typical Uchiha fashion. But the time he had stolen away from her “to think” brought him to only one conclusion: he needed to apologize—again—and at least explain why. He had made her a promise to be a partner that depended on each other, and here Sakura was continuing to keep that promise, while Sasuke stole moments of happiness and bailed when he had to face the consequences. Suddenly remembering their sunset conversation the last time he had returned after leaving, Sasuke felt a fresh stab to his consciousness as he recalled her statement: “a part of partnership is communication.”

Sasuke slowly made his way toward the village gates. When he passed through the canyon-like entrance, people greeted him with “good mornings” while others stared openly at him. Their gazes were a little different, warmer, and Sasuke wondered if his teammate’s influence in the hospital had something to do with his newreception in Sunagakure now.

Feeling even more ashamed, Sasuke resolved himself for his female companion’s wrath and made a straight line for the hospital.

When he entered the hospital’s double doors, Sasuke came upon a scene that made his stomach drop into his feet. Kankuro, who was haggard from exhaustion, and had apparently returned sometime in the night, was fisting the collar of a hospital staff member.

“What do you mean they’re not here?” he bristled. “If she’s not in her rooms, then she should be here. Where’s Mako? Where’s the kid?”

“I don’t know sir,” came the panicked response from the employee, terrified to be facing the Kazekage’s right-hand man. “I’m sure they’re in the village somewhere.”

Hearing those words had Sasuke acting before thinking and the Uchiha rushed forward to fist the shirt of the same medic. “Are you talking about Sakura?” His eyes darted between the both of them and Kankuro’s grip released from the startled staff’s shirt in the same moment he shoved Sasuke’s own hand away.

“Where the hell have you been?” Kankuro accused icily, and a fire Sasuke didn’t even know he had left in him, surged from his throat in anger.

“What the hell is happening?” he demanded, taking another step toward the puppet wielder.

Kankuro pinched his nose in frustration, then beheld him in shock. “You mean Sakura isn’t with you?”

Sasuke eyes widened in immediate response, an answer refusing to form on his lips. Instead, he shouted, “You don’t know where she is?!”

Kankuro frowned deeper at his sudden animosity. “She hasn’t been seen since yesterday morning,” he explained quickly. “The innkeeper said she never came back to the inn. Mako, another medic, and Sakura’s young patient are missing too.”

Sasuke didn’t wait for any further explanation before he began sprinting up the stairs to the second floor of the hospital, the filter for his behavior now completely removed. Let everyone think what they want! That bastard! When Sasuke got ahold of Mako, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Sasuke’s feet were unusually heavy and his breath labored as he continued climbing to the third floor toward the medicine preparation room they had occupied together only recently.

“Sakura?!” He kicked open the door and furiously searched the vacant room with his eyes. After seeing no one, Sasuke stared at the empty couch where they had sat so close to one another the night before last. As if his memory of her there could recall her, Sasuke gazed openly at it, breathing hard.

Having followed the Uchiha, Kankuro appeared in the door behind him. “We’ve already checked the hospital. She isn’t here. We need to check the rest of the village, quickly!”

She couldn’t be missing. Was she really with that assistant of hers or that child?  Were they off somewhere else doing something medical, or were they truly missing? Shit. Shit. Shit.

He turned on Kankuro in his unnerved rage. Sasuke wanted to demand where they had been, he and the Kazekage, but Sasuke remembered that Sakura had told him that they were investigating trouble near the border. He cursed himself again for being selfish and leaving her here alone.

As if reading his thoughts, Kankuro explained, “I was sent back by the Kazekage in the night. He is handling a situation regarding the ninja Sakura said ambushed you both in Tanigakure. The incidents were apparently related.”

“What do you mean?” Sasuke suddenly asked, a deep and cutting sensation coming over Sasuke that he hadn’t felt in a very, very long time: fear.

Kankuro looked down and away from him, debating on how much to reveal. “With some unmentionable methods, we were finally able to find out who their target was,” he finally informed with a sigh. His eyes rose to meet Sasuke’s and the Uchiha saw the same raw fear mirrored in Kankuro’s eyes. “It’s Sakura.”

At the very moment that Sasuke’s knees felt like collapsing beneath his weight, the same staff member that the two ninja had threatened seconds before, came running into the room, panting heavily from having hiked the floors.

“Come quickly,” he urged between breaths, turning immediately to run back down the steps. “Isao has returned.”  

Kankuro made eye contact with the Uchiha before they both bolted back down the stairs, taking two and three steps at time. Sasuke cursed his lack of chakra that kept him from just teleporting downstairs.

Sitting in a chair, the child clutched his side. Sasuke noticed that he kept trying to rise, but the staff held him down as they tried to bandage a wound on his arm. Deep purple finger marks circled around the child’s neck like a collar.

“Not me! Her! Go find her, please!” he shouted as he struggled against them.

“Calm down boy,” a woman medic urged. “We have to staunch the flow of blood from your arm.” The child looked at his wound as if he didn’t even know it had been there.

When Isao caught sight of Sasuke and Kankuro, he started to cry. “HELP! Please help!” he shouted, and they quickly moved to hover over the child. Kankuro suddenly kneeled before him, taking the gauze from the medic and wrapped the child’s arm himself as he questioned.

“Speak kid,” Kankuro urged, “What is going on?”

“Miss Haruno,” he choked between tears. “She’s still out there! Please, we have to go!”

Before Kankuro could ask the child why, Sasuke did something appalling, an act that Sakura would be disappointed in him for. His sharingan flashed bright, soaking up the last of his chakra like a sponge, and he caught the panicked child’s stare in his own crimson and purple one.

Just as he had to Isao’s father, Sasuke stepped into the child’s memories. Isao’s recollections were almost too overwhelming for Sasuke to handle at the moment, each image dripping with the fear in which young ones saw the ninja world. There was also bravery in them and familial concern for the pink-haired kunoichi. Sasuke skipped through the memories like speeding up a film, an act that made his head throb in pain. He didn’t care about his own state at the moment though, seeking the green-eyed face of the woman he had come to love.

There. Isao’s most recent memory Sakura was of her telling him “to go get help.” Sasuke didn’t have time to go back further and he let the memories play out from that point, mapping the child’s nighttime desert sprint, hours long, from the empty desert back to the gates of the village.

Not needing to explore the child’s mind further, he released Isao and they both gasped. Sasuke clutched his eye, ignoring the angry glare on Kankuro’s face. He didn’t care about Kankuro’s morals or even the child’s shocked state at that moment. There was only one thing he cared about. He would let the child explain the details to Kankuro; Sasuke didn’t have the time to explain things to Kankuro. Instead, the Uchiha did the unthinkable, playing the very dangerous game of popping another chakra pill into his mouth as he sprinted out the hospital doors.

.

.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 3: I See Fire

part 2

Part 3

Viren: Well how do you suggest we get him out?

Claudia: *grins, brandishes marshmallow on toasting fork* Unharmed is just another kind of harmed

Viren: Claudia no

Claudia: Claudia YES

I See Fire

Angst rating: 9/10

Viren is clever enough not to take the Silvergrove on alone, no matter how badly he wants Ethari to make him a magic key. Aaravos could be cooking in that pod for a while longer, but Viren still has a trustworthy and badass ally at his side.

Oh yeah, it's Claudia Time again!

Claudia is a powerful and imaginative dark mage, and she has the tainted Sun staff. So, you're the magefam, and you've made it to Xadia, to the edges of the Moonshadow Forest. And all you need to do to get the power of your dreams is to threaten one soft craftsman. But how do you find one specific Moonshadow elf in a hidden Moonshadow village somewhere in the middle of a giant spooky magical forest?

You burn him out.

Credit once again to@random-fandom-ramble for reminding me of this forest fire headcanon, because it fits so well. and so I don't get all the blame for this one, lol

Because see, that's not ordinary fire. Oh, no. That's dark magic fire. We've seen that before. It leaves permanent scars. Remember Sol Regem's eyes?

That's going to be the landscape when Claudia's fire gets through with the Moonshadow elves' home. Where I live on the US West Coast, they name forest fires, and if they combine, they get called complexes. So maybe we can name this fire the Dark Tragedy Complex? Because I do have to wonder... you could start a dark magic forest fire easily with a tainted Sun staff, but how do you put it out?

Two things are going to happen if these events should unfold. One is angsty. The other is also angsty but then amazing.

Firstly, Viren is going to get what he wants. He'll find Ethari, whose tree burned down :(. He'll show him the coins, and he'll offer a trade. Build what he wants and make it work, and Ethari can have his family back, uncoined and free.

And Ethari will say yes.

He'll say yes no matter what anyone else tries to persuade him to do, and I hope they do try, because see: Ethari has to make it look good. He has to make it look like he's all in on Viren's plan, to Viren. Even if that means turning his back on his people in their time of greatest need.

Secondly, the Moonshadow elves are going to be collectively homeless and bereft, hungry, injured, terrified, angry. They will have nowhere to go. They will be a people without a home. And no one else in Xadia will help them. Maybe they're too terrified to hide Ethari's people in case doing so brings Viren down on them, too. We've seen how ordinary elves flee in terror from dark magic. Maybe they're all fighting other issues, too. Viren knows all about stretching resources too far during times of crisis. Whatever the case, there will be no welcome anywhere in Xadia for the Moonshadow elves of the Moonshadow Forest.

But here's where it gets amazing. Because one hand will reach out. One small hand, from across the border. Good King Ezran will stand up on the seat of his throne and say, "You can stay here. I have forests. You're tired, you're hungry. You need medicine. Let me help."

And I'm gonna cry like a little baby.

How many cycles does this break, how many circles does it complete? Moonshadow elves used to live in Katolis before the border was created. When humans were under threat of total annihilation, the Moonshadow leader's daughter spoke up and asked for mercy. That mercy came in the form of land reassignment, and the Moonshadow elves had to give up their ancestral home, their Nexus, and travel east across the new Border. But that mercy got paired with justice, and the life-loving Moon Druids probably had to swear some kind of blood promise to keep an eye on the humans forevermore, and to kill any individuals who got out of hand, as if their sins were the Moonshadows' responsibility now.

That's got to breed a little resentment, a little superiority. "Look what we sacrificed for you, and this is how you act. Ungrateful." And maybe that was partially Luna Tenebris's goal: to hold to her vision of justice, she had to make the elves who shared her arcanum feel a little resentment. Moonshadows love life, but we can't have them being too soft to keep Xadia safe from dark mages, now, can we? I will never stop cackling over dragon politics okay, never

But the Moonshadow elves never figured on King Ezran. A soft boy who refused to let his father's assassination harden his heart, because every life is genuinely important to him. I've seen headcanons for Ezran getting the Sun, Earth, Ocean, and Stars arcanum. How about Moon, too? Because this is very Ethari of him, and if these stories of Viren's plan and the Moonshadow elves' displacement were actually to happen in tandem, the contrast between Ezran's soft choice and Ethari's hard one would be mindblowing.

Ezran completes the circle by inviting the Moonshadow elves to return to Katolis, to their ancestral home. They left long ago, paying the price for an act of mercy, but they were welcomed back by the mercy of humans, repaid after a thousand years, repaid in the face of tragedy. Tragedy on all sides. Tragedy Ezran wants to stop from happening, by being brave and caring and soft, and by being the first to break this thousand-year cycle between Katolis and the Moonshadow elves.

Rayla is his friend. And these are her people. It won't matter what they've done, only that they need help in a time of great desperation. And of course he'll help them. He's Ezran, and he's Katolis's greatest treasure.

Oh, what's that you say? Inviting the Moonshadow elves to settle in Katolis again would make it easier for Rayla to live with Callum in the future? Oh gosh, how about that? What a deal. *smug matchmaker noises*

And once the Moonshadow elves understand that they're safe and begin to trust Ezran--which could happen very quickly, because saving a Moonshadow elf's life when you didn't need to is a really fast way to prove you're trustworthy--maybe Ezran will be encouraged to take the next step toward peace, and eventually other elves and dragons will come to meet together to talk it over. And Ez will offer them jelly tarts, which they will love.

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem. What if we are gifted with Iron Man Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost- almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone: Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would know that Ethari would have to stay close to Viren of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. And making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Runaan and Ethari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future, or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What beating Viren looks like, I can't guess yet. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in thwarting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

part 4

[autumnslance]

Seems we get a brief breather between parts 1 and 2 of 5.5, so Aeryn's snagging her man so they can take care of one another post infiltration and combat. Just two adventurers cleaning up together. The rating actually remains in "older T" levels. You'll see why.

Below the cut on Tumblr for those who prefer this medium: ----

After the hearty dinner their colleagues set out, the senior Scions dispersed. Y’shtola, Urianger, and G’raha vanished to the library to discuss the Hydaelyn theories. Tataru offered to show Estinien his new room with the twins opting to tag along, for better or worse. Aeryn snagged Thancred’s coat before he could leave the dining area. He raised a brow and glanced about as she tugged gently, encouraging him to follow her. No one seemed to pay them much mind, so he did not fight being drawn along.

“Have a plan?” Thancred asked as they headed down the hall leading to the various senior Scions’ rooms.

Aeryn shrugged. “Nothing specific. Mostly I’ve missed you and we seem to have a moment.”

He drew her into an embrace, backwards against his chest. They both still smelled of levin-burnt sand and grimy sweat, tinged with the coppery tang of blood. But her viola hairpiece was also mingled in, familiar and comforting, and he let out a deep sigh he felt he’d been holding for weeks. “I’ve missed you as well.” He leaned closer to her ear to murmur, “I’ve perhaps been thinking of the various ways I intend to show just how much I’ve missed you once we’ve cleaned up.”

She giggled and he could see her expected blush as she leaned into the embrace before stepping away. “Sounds as if you think to get dirty again .”

He grinned. “It’s certainly been a thought, if you’re amenable.” Thancred paused as they came to her door. “I need to stow my gear and check on a certain rodent, lest we be interrupted by squeaky indignation later.”

“Come in when you’ve cleaned up and seen to your other girlfriend,” she teased, giving him a wink before turning away.

“On second thought,” he said, overwhelmed by the idea of Aeryn vanishing behind the door. “I’ll risk nutkin wrath and come in now.”

“You know you’re asking for it,” Aeryn said, keeping her door open for him.

Thancred shrugged, propping his gunblade on the stand by the entrance as he stepped inside. “We played and I lavished all sorts of affection on the little tyrant when Urianger and I were here naught but two days ago, it’ll be fine.” Maybe. His pet had been rather clingy since Thancred had awoken to his body after his time on the First.

Thoughts of the nutkin scattered as soon as the door locked, allowing them to fall against each other, Aeryn’s hands gripping his lapels, his hands in her hair and on the small of her back, pulling them into a long kiss and gods he had been needing that. They had had no time to themselves, not even a brief stolen moment, since his return from Garlemald. The closest they had come was leaning on each other for a brief nap on the airship returning from Paglth’an to Ul’dah.

But now here she was; solid, warm, soft in all the right places, and as tense as she normally was after such adventures—and when worried for a friend. They broke the kiss, both sighing with content as their foreheads rested against each other.

“You’re tense,” she murmured, pushing his coat off.

“Was about to say the same of you.” He let her remove it to hang by the doorframe. It needed a good wash and repairs after fighting through Paglth’an, not to mention a few weeks scouting in Garlemald; there hadn’t been time for proper maintenance the brief times he had returned to the Stones over the last few days. He dropped his gloves behind her so he could slide his palms over her form until he found the buttons and fastens for her own coat, hanging it next to his once he had it off her.

Aeryn started unhooking his belts and harnesses. He thought of protesting, but the weight of his gear was suddenly noticeable as his ammunition, daggers, the holster he kept healing potions and unguents, and various other pouches of practical supplies, were hung on hooks or placed on the nearby desk.

Thancred fought the urge to lean on the wall to turn to her, doing the same with her sword belt, supply pouches, the tie she wore with that coat. He was about to unbutton her shirt, but she was unhooking his armor, and he helped remove his chest piece, feeling lighter—and weary and aching, now that it wasn’t holding him up.

“You’ve a lot of bruising,” Aeryn said, already working on removing his undershirt as she frowned, noting every wince and flinch he made as her fingers traced over him. 

“Well, I was holding off magitek and dragons.” He tried to make it sound light, but he thought he sounded more snippy due to his tiredness. He forced his tone to sound gentler. “It’s after effects, really; Urianger saw to the worst of it already.”

Aeryn muttered the familiar incantation, the electric taste of wintry pine and icy mountain lakes accompanying her spell. The aching faded further, his remaining minor injuries progressing to a nearly healed stage. It was an improvement, and he told her so before kissing her again. His hands took advantage of the distraction to remove her blouse, watching her wince and flinch now as Thancred checked over her shoulders and arms, across her back and midsection, frowning at her cuts and bruises in turn. He tried reminding himself that some had been unavoidable, even with him standing between her and their enemies.

“Would that I could return the favor.” He bit down on the old frustration as she cast for herself under his gaze.

“It’s all ri—ight!” Aeryn yelped as he picked her up and turned to deposit her on her nearby desk, then knelt.

“Allow me to help with this instead,” Thancred said, finding the hidden fasteners on her tall boots before pulling them off. She sighed and flexed her toes, socks sweat-stained, perhaps blood stained too, given some of the discoloration. He pulled off her socks and began massaging her left foot, grinning as she released a small relieved moan and slumped a bit. All the flipping around she did couldn’t have been easy on her long, perfect legs, he often thought, working his way from her toes to her calf before moving on to her right foot.

“You’ll have to let me do the same for you. I know those greaves are heavy.”

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, knowing it was pointless to argue. Honestly, he was looking forward to it. He left a kiss just below her knee before he stood with a wince.

Aeryn slid off the desk, a hand on his chest, herding him to sit next to make good on that promise. Thancred sighed and allowed it, feeling better with his boots and socks off and grumbling relief as she massaged his limbs, checking his feet as he had hers.

“I could fall asleep like this,” he murmured. She finished her work and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Not before you get a bath,” Aeryn admonished. “Or shower, if you prefer; the reservoir’s heated and ready to go either way.”

“First things first.” Thancred stretched as he stood. He gestured at the vanity in her wash area. “Sit and pass me your hairbrush.”

Over the next several minutes he carefully, section by section, brushed out her fine locks, removing bands and pins and undoing the braids. Why she put it in such a complicated style was beyond him—though he had to admit it stayed more or less in place, and she seemed able to style it swiftly. Aeryn meanwhile enjoyed the attention, only hissing and flinching the few times he hit an unavoidable snag. Smoothed out, her hair fell past her shoulder blades. He drew his fingers through the black strands for the sheer pleasure of it.

“Want to wash it too?” She half-joked.

“Would be my pleasure. We have to finish getting you undressed first, though.”

“As if you’ve ever had problems with that,” Aeryn teased—even as he undid her brassiere.

“No idea what you mean,” Thancred said, leaving a kiss on the round of her shoulder while his fingers danced down her sides and then front to undo her pants.

Once they were both divested of their remaining clothing, he took her hand like a gentleman and helped her step into the tub. She fiddled with the levers on the shower head, making sure the water wasn’t too hot when it poured forth, rinsing away the grime and grit. They took turns washing each others’ hair and scrubbing backs and limbs. After the magical healing, there were still bruises on them both, but they looked days old instead of—gods, was it truly the same day? The sun had risen over the plains after all night fighting, then returning to Ul’dah, and finally home where it was evening again.

It had been a long handful of days.

Aeryn “mrf’d” as he rubbed her shoulders and back, the soap washed off but much of her tension remaining. He didn’t realize he was just as bad until she did the same for him, scrubbing his neck, shoulders, and back, continuing to massage as the warm water rained down. He forced himself to relax, or tried to at least. The temptation to fill the tub and lounge together was strong, but Thancred feared in their weary states they might fall asleep. Not that that would be a problem for Aeryn, given the Kojin blessing. He really ought to look into that for himself; it could be extremely useful.

They shut off the shower just as the crystal reservoir was running out and the water started to chill. Aeryn was quicker, snagging the biggest of the towels—which she wrapped around him, rubbing vigorously. “Gotcha.”

“My only complaint is you are the one dripping everywhere,” Thancred said, grabbing another towel. “All that hair first, then the rest of you.” He wrapped up her hair as she tucked his towel around his waist like a makeshift skirt, forcing him to find a third towel to wrap her in. It also put him in the perfect position to scoop her up, eliciting another surprised sound and giggle.

“I can walk, you know,” Aeryn said, nuzzling his neck. “And I know you’re tired.”

“Not too tired to spoil you what little you allow.” He carried her across the room and around the partition to her bed. He set her among the many pillows and blankets she kept there, pulling away the towels and dropping them to the side to be worried about later as he settled in beside her.

“Shouldn’t we be under the covers?” She feigned innocence as his hands roamed over her body. “And turn off the lights?”

“This would be part of the ‘get dirty again’ plan from earlier.”

“Ah, right; thought you’d forgotten.”

“As if I could.” Thancred denied further rejoinders with another kiss, this one hungrier than the others. Aeryn responded with an equal fervor, pressing closer to him with a shiver as his fingers found sensitive spots along her spine and sides.

He was enjoying her quiet little noises and how she writhed, and he nearly had her to where she would make those sweet, whimpery begging sounds as he prolonged their mutual pleasure, when Aeryn stilled, blinking past him. “...Thancred…”

He heard the scrabbling and had barely enough time to brace himself before four tiny sharp-clawed feet landed on his upper back accompanied by angry chittering, and he wondered how such a small creature could knock the wind out of him like that.

Aeryn was no help, the traitor, laughing while the nutkin continued its scolding. “I warned you!” she got out between giggles.

“How in the seven hells did it even get in here, I know I locked that door,” Thancred growled, wrangling the beast off his back, though it refused to be held, scrambling over his arms, chest, and shoulders, until Aeryn cooed and clicked for it.

“You’re the infiltration expert, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually,” she said as the nutkin bounced over to her, still chittering indignantly but accepting a cuddle and pets.

“Argh,” was Thancred’s only response, dropping on the mattress, arms splayed. A moment later there was another sharp weight on his chest and more chattering, this less angry and more inquisitive and needy. He scritched the nutkin, begrudgingly pleased with how it chirred and nuzzled him. “One would think you neglected entirely, to be so demanding,” he admonished. He went unheeded beyond a fluffy tail bomfed against his ribs a few times in response to his voice.

Aeryn giggled again and settled alongside him, adding her own tribute pets. “You weren’t kidding earlier when you called this critter a tyrant.”

“Perhaps if fed it’ll allow us to return to our own business,” he grumbled.

“There’s a tin container in the cabinet on my desk for such occasions, since we spent plenty of time together while you were gone. You could get the lights while you’re at it.”

Thancred sighed theatrically, eliciting another round of giggles from Aeryn. He sat up with one hand cupped under the nutkin, who chattered and scrabbled up his arm to his shoulder as he crossed the room, its nails prickling Thancred’s bare skin.

There was, in fact, a tin and food and water dishes in the right-hand cabinet in the desk, the nutkin bounding in gleeful expectation upon the oak surface. “You know what you’re after, little fiend,” Thancred said, adding a few treats to hopefully keep his pet occupied and too full to bounce around much more. He brushed his hand over the soft grey fur while the nutkin dug in, chirring with content as it ate. “Lesson learned; see to you first always. Now no more interruptions, hear me?”

The nutkin paid no further attention, focused on its dinner and the snacks for storing in one of its many stashes around the Rising Stones. There was probably at least one here in Aeryn’s chamber.

Thancred left his fuzzy companion on the desk as he turned out the lights, grabbing extra water glasses while he was up, the room familiar enough that once his vision adjusted it was no trouble to cross the darkened space.

Aeryn had slid under the sheets in the meantime and was starting to doze off by the time he set the water on the nightstand and laid beside her. “Sleepy?” He tried very hard not to be too disappointed; it had been a long, hard few days, and honestly sleeping in her bed and being used as her pillow was itself a heavenly feeling he had missed over the past few weeks, and all else could wait until they were better rested in the morning…

The placement of her hand scattered those thoughts. “A bit, after everything,” she said. “But I’m certain you can wake me up again. We had a plan, remember?”

“Indeed,” he said, pulling her close once more. With any luck the nutkin was finally satisfied, as it hadn’t been the only one missing Thancred.

[fanfic-me-up]

Unwithering | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader (1)

Part Two

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!reader

Prompt: Flower shop AU, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Warnings: Mild Swearing. Flowery language (pun intended 😉... I’ll show myself out)

Word Count: 2,250

Taglist: Reply to this post if you want to be added for future chapters!

A/N: This is for @bnhabookclub​ event going on! Thank you for giving new writers in the fandom, like me, a place to promote their work. Shout out to @smolmilkyways​ for letting me use this beautiful piece of fanart above! Go check them out! Also, thanks @gallickingun​ for letting me tag you in my first fic. You gave me some pretty solid advice that pushed me to get this out here. This was originally a one-shot, but of course it turned into a multi-chap, so stay tuned for more! 

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your fists gripped the hem of your dress. The sunflowers on it reminded you of him; a burning sun at the center of your universe. The boy in front of you crinkled his forehead at your statement; as if the love you spent years building up the courage to confess was no more than a pebble - insignificant - that he could kick to the side without a second thought.

Midoriya gave you a slight thumbs up from the back, but the rest of the boys cackled with no remorse. 

“You hear that, Bakugou? She looovvveesss you!”

“Freaky flower girl and Bakugou sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

“Awww is she gonna cry?”

The lump in your throat was difficult to swallow, but you refused to prove them right. It would only add fuel to the fire threatening to burn the seed planted in your heart.

He stepped toward you. The scent of burnt sugar filled your lungs; like fresh apples picked from your mother’s garden, dipped in melted caramel. You heard it’s a side effect from his quirk, but it was the first time you were close enough to experience it for yourself. 

You willed your eyes to find his. The soft breeze blowing past provided a cooling relief to the intense heat felt in your cheeks. When your eyes locked, a spark flashed within his own. You couldn’t catch it in time, but your heart stuttered in response.

 Any chance of a flower blooming died the next moment.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

A year passed before you saw Katsuki Bakugou again.

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“Here’s your pickup order, Tanaka-san, I’m sure your wife will love them!” 

You ring up the older gentleman who’s been a regular at your mother’s flower shop for years. His wife loves the smell of scented geranium, a sweet apricot that never fails to remind her of the orchards back home. He’s convinced your flowers are the reason she’s still here; the true medicine to her illness.

You always deny this statement, shaking your head with a playful giggle, but the compliment warms you. It’s nice to hear people cared about your flowers.

“She loves only the ones made by you, dearest.”

He winks as his shaking hands grab the large bouquet. You smile and turn your hand, palm up, towards Tanaka whose eyes never fail to widen in awe at your quirk in action. A small stem sprouts from the center of your palm, growing taller by the second. You hone in on the bright yellow dot on the center of each petal. A wash of white forms around each dot, acting as a transition for the violet that envelops the rest of the petals.

Each petal opens up one by one to reveal a golden bud. 

You hand the flower to Tanaka.

“On the house,” you wink back. 

“Oh very nice, very nice, indeed,” he bows in thanks, “What is the meaning of this one?”

“Irises give hope. In Chinese tradition, it is referred to as ‘the purple butterfly’ because its petals flutter like butterflies.” 

The breeze from outside trails in at the perfect time and the petals flutter about.

“Very pretty,” Tanaka remarks, “I’ll be sure to let the misses know about this one!”

He thanks you one more time before walking out with a newfound spring in his step; the lone flower nestled in the pocket of his worn out janitor uniform. 

You’ve been working at Paradise Blooms for the past three years after your parents separated, and your mom needed the extra hand more than ever. It was difficult balancing school and work, especially when you were busy prepping for U.A. exams last year, but you could never say no to your mom. She’s been the constant in your life since day one.

The back door to the supply room squeaks.

“A little help here?” 

All you see is the top of your mom’s head, adorned with a multi-colored flower crown. Her face is covered by the high pile of crates she’s trying not to drop. You rush to catch the top crate before it tumbles.

“Phew. That was a close one. Thanks, honey!” 

She bends down to take the supplies out, arranging the items on the counters around the shop. She weaves through the aisles - it looks more like a garden than an actual shop, in your opinion, but you think it gives the place character. She stops at the row of potted flowers sitting on the far right of the shop, soaking in the sunlight cast through the window. It’s the new collection your mom got in time for the 2020 Garden Glow Event. Every year, flower shops all over the city participated in an annual gardening event to educate the public on gardening techniques with fun activities for the children. Your mom spent hours on the phone dealing with difficult vendors to get this specific collection for the event. Water sprinkles out from her palm as she takes the time to water each and every flower.

Since there’s no customers at the moment, you grab the broom from the storeroom and set to sweeping around the shop. It’s not long before your mom’s watering routine is interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hello?” You continue sweeping, gently humming along to the tune playing through the speakers, but your voice catches when you hear, “Mitsuki! Hi! How are you?” 

Mitsuki? Your mom couldn’t possibly be talking to Mitsuki... Bakugou? 

Your knuckles turn white from squeezing the life out of the poor broom as you wait for confirmation. 

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The memories you tried so hard to forget come flooding all at once.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You’re snapped out of the memory.

“Yes, bring him in! Great! See you in a few, bye.” 

Your mother returns to watering the flowers like nothing happened - like that single phone call didn’t just turn your world upside down, after you spent the last year flipping it right side up.

“Who was that?” 

You’re afraid of the answer. 

You promised yourself you moved on from Katsuki Bakugou. It proved to be easier said than done. Even if you both went to separate high schools and most of your days were spent either studying or working; at night is when your thoughts strayed. You wondered what he was up to… was he passing all his classes? You’d giggle at the absurdity of Katsuki not being number one. Was he still bullying Midoriya? Did you ever cross his mind?

Was he happy?

Because more than anything, you wished him happiness - even if that happiness was not with you. Was that weakness? Was wishing for someone’s happiness, who could care less about you, considered weakness? 

“Hm?” Your mom turns to you, “Oh! That was Mitsuki Bakugou. Her son, Katsuki - I believe you went to school with him? Well, he needs a part-time job to help pay for tuition. Can you believe he got into U.A.? Mitsuki must be so proud of him.”

“I figured you’d be happy,” she continues, " I know you’ve been struggling with balancing school and work, so I thought having another person around would help lighten the load a little bit. Besides, I owed Mitsuki a favor.”

Your mother blushes at the last part.

Favor? What favor?

But that’s the last thing on your mind when you suddenly feel the need to pass out.

Katsuki… is… working… here? 

“Honey, are you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I - I’m not sure I can…” you trail off. Your mom didn’t know about your confession to Katsuki. When you came home in tears that day, with your dress all wrinkled, you told her it was because kids were bullying you for trying and failing to get into U.A. 

It was the half-truth. 

“Y/N, did something happen between you and Katsuki? I can call Mitsuki back right now if you don’t feel comfortable with him around.” 

It was as easy as breathing or using your quirk, second nature, all you had to do was utter a two letter word and your mom would immediately have Mitsuki on the line, apologizing for the inconvenience, but making sure to recommend a few places in the area who were hiring. A simple “no” and your world would become right side up again, the boy you loved long forgotten during the day and only remembered at night when there’s nothing to consume your mind, but him. 

Taking the easy way called out to you, beckoning you to relinquish your strength, and give in. But if you couldn’t face one boy, then maybe Katsuki was right. Maybe you were weak. 

“I’m fine, mom, I can work with him,” you say.

Pounding footsteps against the pavement outside cut your mom off from her next words.

“OI! LET ME GO, OLD WOMAN, I’LL KILL YOU!” 

“CALL ME THAT ONE MORE TIME AND SEE WHERE IT GETS YOU!” 

Your breath hitches at the sound. You haven’t heard that voice in over a year; it’s gotten deeper, raspier in tone. You take a few breaths in and out to calm yourself so you don’t melt into the floor at first glance.

The door swings open - the “We’re Open” sign rattles dangerously against the glass -  and in barges Mitsuki Bakugou, dragging her son by the ear.

Katsuki struggles to get out of his mother’s grasp, his arms stretch toward the door, but Mitsuki pulls him all the way inside.

“I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING, WOMAN!”

“AND NOW YOU’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF GETTING A JOB!”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS SHIT!”

“YOU’LL MAKE TIME!”

Katsuki growls. His palms curving into themselves like he’s trying to reign in his quirk from exploding Paradise Blooms where it stands.

You and your mom look at each other, unsure how to inject yourselves in the rather awkward exchange. Truthfully, you’re not surprised by the interaction; you’ve seen Katsuki and his family at school events in the past. The Bakugous had an… interesting family dynamic. 

Mitsuki notices the both of you watching and immediately releases Katsuki. She smiles and greets your mom with a hug as if the previous interaction never happened.

“Y/Mom’s/N, it’s great to see you! How’s the event planning coming along?”

Your mom and Mitsuki engage in small talk for a couple minutes leaving you to sneak a quick glance over at Katsuki leaning against the door. He’s looking out the window with a scowl on his face. He crosses his arms to stop himself from fisting his palms, a sign you picked up on when he’s itching to get on the field and obliterate. 

You find yourself thinking how beautiful and destructive at the same time.

Once Mitsuki and your mom finish catching up, she directs her attention towards you. 

“And you must be Y/N?  Your mother has told me so much about you!”

You catch the flash of recognition in Katsuki’s eyes, but you’re wrapped in a hug before you can think. The hug is a bit awkward with the counter digging into your side, but the warmth radiating off Mitsuki makes you feel at home. She lets go of you and turns around to where Katsuki is still standing by the door, ready to leave the first chance he gets.

“And this is my son, Katsuki,” she beckons him over, but when he doesn’t move she barks, “Don’t be rude! Get over here and introduce yourself.” 

Katsuki grumbles under his breath, but trudges over. 

“Sup.”

Mitsuki growls and slaps Katsuki over the head, “Oi! Where are your manners!?” 

She glances apologetically, “I’m sorry. He’s… a bit much to handle. I really appreciate you agreeing to hire him. He’s had trouble in the past with defying authority.”

Katsuki scowls at the ground when Mitsuki pats his head affectionately this time. 

“But he’s a good kid at heart, a little rough around the edges, but overall a good kid. I hope you’re able to see that and work with him.” 

She bows; her hand on Katsuki’s head nudges him to do the same. His nose twitches, but he listens this time.

Your mother is an empathetic person, able to walk all paths of life and notice the beauty in each one. It wasn’t like her to turn someone down in need. 

Your mom smiles, “I’m happy to work with Katsuki. What about you, Y/N?”

She’s giving you a way out for the last time. 

Mitsuki looks at you, hope in her eyes.

Doubt laid out its hand for you to take; to lead you away from the pain that still ate away at you everyday. The teasing. The pointing. The rejection from U.A. and from Katsuki. Working with him would force you to face the pain head on.

“I’ll never love a weak girl like you.”

You lock eyes with Katsuki for the first time since that day many moons ago; he’s awaiting your answer, a twinge of hope laced in his eyes overshadowed by a grimace. 

You wonder if you now hold the fuel to the fire threatening to burn the tiny seed of hope he’s trying so hard to bury.

For better or for worse, you were also a person who found beauty in all paths of life.

“Welcome aboard,” you say.

[q-gorgeous]

The Unworld

fanfiction

ao3

HI THIS IS A REPOST jnbhgv i originally posted this march 15th, 2018 on ffn but im gonna start going through the painstaking process of posting all my fics on ao3 so were just gonna go in order starting with the first one

idk if i ever posted this on my main blog so

I’ve been drifting around this place for what feels like millenniums. I can’t remember how I ended up here, just that one day I found myself unfortunate enough to be taken here. There’s no light, no ghastly glows from any other creatures. I’ve been here so long I can no longer even tell if I’m still blinking. 

This place has no real feeling to it. Just vast emptiness. It doesn’t really feel like it goes on forever, and it’s not a heavy, overwhelming type of emptiness either. The temperature feels as if it’s at a comfortable point, but I begin to wonder if I’ve just grown used to the climate of this strange place after being here for centuries. My fingertips are still cold though. That’s one thing I remember from my life all that time ago. I could never conquer the cold, no matter how bundled up I was. 

I’ve also begun to notice that my form is no longer the same as when I first arrived here. I feel lighter now than I did then. Sometimes I also feel as if my legs turn into a tail as I float here. I’m not sure why that is, I’ve just come to see it as evolving to my surroundings, becoming my surroundings. I think that might be what happens to other beings who get stuck here. They get eaten and picked at by this place. Because I can’t be the only one who’s had the unfortunate luck to get stuck here, can I?

I also believe that beings trapped here get devoured because I can feel myself becoming wispy, like I’m made out of a flickery material similar to fire. Bits by bits of myself flake off in the flowing rhythm my body has taken on. 

As my train of thought goes in circles on it’s tracks with no end, I realize something that I haven’t tried to do for a long time. 

Move. 

Walk. 

Get around. 

It must’ve been quite a few centuries since I’ve tried to look for a way to escape this dark place. I was still more corporeal then, still knew how to work my limbs. Would I even be able to make it a few steps before growing weary and succumbing to this place once again?

As I think and think and think, I come to the conclusion that nothing would hurt whether I did it or not. I began by trying to take a step forward in front of me but I’m not standing on anything to take a step from. As I lose my balance and begin to wobble, my legs turn into a flickering tail once again and I balance out. I begin to float forward more steadily now, as if my tail is helping to propel me. 

I go on for what could be minutes, hours, or even years until I come across something that feels so alien but oh so familiar at the same time. 

Gravity. 

There’s a weight pulling me towards what I assume is down. At first I just quietly observe what’s happening. But then I hear something that isn’t the ever so slowly shallower and shallower breaths I’ve been taking for centuries. It’s loud and it isn’t something I’ve ever heard before. And then…

I can see. 

There’s a fluorescent green glowing above me. I look at my arms, wispy and shadow like, reflecting the green light. 

My escape is above me. The opposite way that I’m floating.

I begin to propel myself upwards, trying to fight the ever increasing feeling of gravity as it pushes harder and harder against me. Soon I’m clawing myself up, fingers gripping a wall, it bends against my fingers and it’s the most wonderful thing I can ever remember feeling. Something beneath my fingers. 

As I make my way up I begin to wonder how I know this is an escape. Who knows whether or not this place is controlled by some other powerful being, or if this is just the last stage before my existence is finally wiped away. I just know that I need to pull myself over this wall and into this light. 

Pulling myself over the wall is excruciatingly painful and tiring. I haven’t used my muscles for anything except breathing in centuries. At one point, I lost my hold and almost fell from the wall but I managed to keep my grip and keep climbing up. 

As I finally pull myself up over the wall, I look at the green light, triumphant, but I notice that it’s getting smaller and smaller. Disappearing, my last chance. 

Panicking, I dive into the portal, crashing into a solid floor on the other side. 

My senses are immediately overwhelmed. I can feel gravity and the floor crowding in from all around me. I can smell different scents that I can’t recognize, this place smells burnt, caustic, and slightly of a sweet smell that makes my mouth begin to water. The most overwhelming though is sound. So much is happening. I can hear sets of shouts, but I can also hear whirring. The sound of electricity mixes with the sound of someone screaming and through my panicked state on the floor I begin wondering what’s happening around me in this new world I fell into. 

I drag myself up into a sitting position, and gap at the sight before me. A young being falls out of the glowing, fluorescent light that I made my escape through. Had there been someone else in there with me this whole time? Had I not realized it? The screaming has stopped now that the figure with snow white hair exited the portal and collapsed. 

This being does not appear to be human. 

Am I even human anymore?

I begin to creep forward to ask them a question when two teenagers rush past me and collapse next to the second being to escape from the portal. 

Confused, I begin to pull myself towards the creature on the ground. Why couldn’t his friends see me? Am I not visible?

The boy opens his glowing green eyes and looks at the two humans above him.

“Sam? Tucker?” He asks.

I’m flabbergasted. How could he know their names? It is nearly impossible to escape from that place. How could he happen to know these two humans?

They three have a few more exchanges before the boy is standing. He looks around and finds a reflective fixture hanging on the wall. What’s the word for it again? It’s been so long…

As the boy takes a look at his appearance, he begins to shake. He shakes his head back and forth, clearly in a state of panic. 

“N-no, guys how can this be happening? Why do I look like this? Why do I feel so strange? Why-.”

Suddenly he stops speaking, looking at the ground he turns around to face his friends. He looks up, with a shocked expression on his face before he quietly whispers.

“Am I dead?” 

The three look around at each other, at a loss for words in their fear. Soon enough a big rumbling comes from above and the three teens look up. Panic falls across all of their faces. 

A worried voice comes from the entryway to the room.

“Danny, kids, are you okay?”

The one I presume to be Danny, begins to breathe more heavily as his eyes widen. 

“They can’t see me like this. What would I tell them? ‘Your invention works but it killed me’?”

The two try to calm him down but a sudden burst of white light emits around him and engulfs him from his head to his toes. Once it dies down a human boy can be seen standing in his place, with raven black hair and baby blue eyes. 

At that moment his parents rush downstairs and begin coddling him, making sure he’s okay when they see the portal behind him. They wear a shocked expression, but quickly shake their heads and rush their son upstairs. Soon a door can be heard slamming shut and something speeds away. 

My mind is reeling at everything I just witnessed. More than anything I have witnessed in the last few centuries. But that boy didn’t come from inside the portal like I did. 

He’s the reason it turned on. 

I float towards the portal, peering at it but not daring to go inside, lest I get trapped in that dark nothingness once again. 

This changed something about that boy, this isn’t something that should have happened. I’m sure of it. 

I turn to look in the… Mirror! It’s called a mirror. At first I can’t see myself but then I flicker into existence and I can see what I look like for the first time in as long as I can remember. 

It’s not what I was expecting. I appear translucent and wispy, my eyes also a glowing green. I look as if I were a fire so cold it were a shadow. 

I once again look around the room, feeling lost and alone. I’m unsure what to do with my new found freedom, knowing I can’t pick up where I left off. I don’t even know when I left off. 

I make my way up the...stairs. 

I see a burst of orange light coming from outside the house and look through the window. The sun is closing in on the horizon. I try to turn the doorknob but find that my hand passes straight through it instead. Looking at it in shock, I just float straight through the door. 

I sit down on the grass outside, relishing in the cool feeling of it as I wait for the boy to come home. 

I’m unsure on what I should do now, but one thing I think I need to do is stay here and help this boy however I’m meant to. 

Because why else would I have escaped the Unworld? It couldn’t have been a coincidence. 

My memories begin to resurface now that I can interact with anything that isn’t a numbing darkness. I can feel the memories of my capture welling up. 

This...halfa… escaped the wrath of the Unworld and death. 

This halfa got the chance that I did not. I got sucked in by a portal whose calculations were off by a point and while I believe the same being changing experience happened to us both, he got the chance of them being right this time. 

I look back at the house that I’m sitting in front of. As my memories return I realize that I hadn’t actually been in that place for centuries. 

It looks like it hasn’t even been a year. 

Two portal accidents in the time frame of a year. 

I always knew that their sick obsession with ghosts would eventually end up hurting one of us. 

But you’d think that after accidentally letting your only daughter walk right in the middle of an experiment, that they would learn their lesson. Especially after learning she disappeared from it’s effects. 

But now, her little brother was now a victim of their twisted obsession too. 

As I sit in our small patch of grass in front of the house, something happens. A ring of white light spreads up and around me. Holding my hands up, I see that they are my hands. Peachy, solid hands.

I look up to see my family gaping at me from the RV. Tears spring to my eyes and they exit the vehicle and run towards me. 

I’m not sure what happened to Danny and I, but I know that, together, we’ll conquer this challenge.