#i still have to listen to i declare goddess a few times a year

[ghelgheli]

^ remember this guy? he's doing "slambient" now. it's pretty neat:

[indigowallbreaker]

many blessings to you on this day! I humbly lay a request for fByleth/sylvain “i missed you”/surprised/kiss at dusk for GD Professor Byleth after the millennium bandit fight meetup where all the deers show up, but sylvain doesn’t and By finds herself worried sick over if he could have died in the 5 years she was gone, but he arrives just as the sun is setting 😳🤭 thank you 🥺

(I have little to no idea why I let this idea sit around so long, seeing as you wrote an entire outline for me 0_o Sorry about that. Onward! To Sylvain kissing!)

“I missed you” kiss + Surprised + Kiss at Dusk

It didn’t take long for the Golden Deer to set to work. Once Claude declared Garreg Mach the seat from which they would drive back the Empire, everyone seemed eager to do their part. Byleth watched with pride as her students ran around the monastery-- divvying up tasks and securing food for the next few days. At times they seemed so different from the kids she had taught. And then Raphael would give his booming laugh or Lysithea would snap at Claude and it would feel like no time had passed. 

As the day progressed, more and more former students arrived, each apologizing profusely for being late to the millennium reunion. Amusingly, no one seemed terribly surprised to see Byleth. They greeted her with hugs or beaming smiles, sometimes with awe and excitement, but none of them seemed shocked. As if they’d always known she would appear as promised. 

It was all a whirlwind to Byleth. She spoke little, mostly absorbing as much information as she could get. The status of the war and the Empire, what her students had been up to, where the Church of Seiros and Seteth had relocated.

All the while, Byleth kept looking over her shoulder. Kept racing to the gate when someone new showed up. Kept unconsciously leaving room beside her when sitting for meals or meetings. Her chest constricted at any mention of the Kingdom, listening for one name in particular.

But by dinner, Sylvain still hadn’t returned to Garreg Mach.

Byleth found herself against a wall by the main gate, lost in thought as she watched the shadows grow long across the broken cobblestone road leading into the monastery. Sylvain had told her at the Goddess Tower that he would work to become the kind of man he could trust. She wanted to meet that man. She wanted to see him come riding up to the gates with his fiery hair and blazing grin.

Were things so bad in the north that he couldn’t make it to the reunion? Had he been waylaid by the Empire or bandits? Could he have simply forgotten?

Or... Five years was a long time. A long war. Was it possible Sylvain had...  fallen? 

Byleth’s fist tightened on her sword hilt. No. She pushed those thoughts away. Standing around staring at the road was ridiculous enough, she didn’t need to dwell on depressing thoughts while she was at it. 

After another few minutes of listening for the sound of hooves on cobblestone, Byleth decided she was suitably disheartened, and turned to go back inside Garreg Mach.

But she hadn’t gone more than a few paces when someone raced around the abandoned blacksmith’s stall towards her. Byleth put a hand to her sword, tensing for another bandit.

Sylvain’s wide eyes found hers. He grinned, wide and unguarded. “Hey, Professor.” His hair was a little wilder, his chin a little stubbly, and his clothes a little different. But it was Sylvain all the same. 

After thinking about him all evening-- all day, really-- Byleth couldn’t help but close the distance between them and hug Sylvain around the middle. “You’re safe,” she said, more to herself than to Sylvain.

He tensed in her arms. Likely he was startled-- Byleth wasn’t exactly known for physical expressions of affection. But it only took a beat of him to relax and hold her back, resting his chin atop her head and exhaling as if able to put down a burden for the first time in years. “Were you waiting for me here?” He asked with a note of amusement.

“How did you get in?”

“North gate. It was closer.”

That did make sense. Byleth made to step back but Sylvain held fast. “Little longer?” he pleaded. Byleth thought he was just teasing her, but then Sylvain ducked his head to her shoulder, his heartbeat thundering through her chest as his arms tightened ever so slightly.

It was comfortable. Soothing after an afternoon standing by a gate and counting cobblestones. Byleth got the feeling the hug has gone on longer than it should but she didn’t mind. Just let her eyes slip shut and lost herself in the feel of his breath against her neck, his fingers pressing into the small of her back. 

Eventually, sunset colored the sky. Sylvain didn’t protest when Byleth pulled her head back, arms still around each other. “I’m glad you’re okay,” she said in the space between them, red now with the setting sun. “I didn’t like the idea of facing this war without you.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath but it wasn’t enough warning. Something in her chest tightened again when Sylvain kissed her. That same thing didn’t relax when he jerked back just as quickly. 

“Sorry, I-- Sorry.” Sylvain let her go. His honey eyes had turned gold in the sun’s glare, filled with guilt and fear. “I just... missed you.”

Then it hit Byleth. The same worry, the same tangle of anxiety that she had felt all day waiting for him to return-- Sylvain had felt that for the past five years. It explained a few things. Like why he was avoiding her gaze and shifting uncomfortably, but had yet to make an excuse to run away. 

Byleth smiled. He had promised her years ago to become a man she could trust. She would love to see his progress.

Taking Sylvain’s hand, Byleth began pulling him away from the front gates. “Come on. Let’s get you settled in. Have you eaten yet?”

“Is there something to eat around here?” Sylvain threaded their fingers together and let her take the lead. “Hasn’t this place been abandoned for years?”

“Dinner first, then.” Byleth asked Sylvain questions about the Kingdom as they walked and let his voice wash over her, let his hand tighten in hers, let them both soak in the fact that the other was alive and well.

And let herself wonder how to get another kiss.

[grahamstoney]

How To Look Spiritual, Even When You're Not

New Post has been published on https://grahamstoney.com/spirituality/look-spiritual-even-when-youre-not

How To Look Spiritual, Even When You're Not

Looking spiritual can be a bit of a problem if you’re an atheist. This can make it particularly hard to crack onto the cute girl with the aum tattoo on her shoulder. Simply pointing out that all that chakra stuff is bullshit generally doesn’t go down too well.

I hang around with a lot of new age spiritual types these days because they tend to be more empathic and less judgemental than your average person. Less discerning perhaps too, but I’m OK with that. I may not share their wacky belief systems but I still want to fit in.

So here’s how to look spiritual even when you’re not:

Go To Yoga

Put aside all the spiritual business for a moment: yoga is a great workout, the stretching is excellent for your body, and the guy/girl ratio is the most favourable you’re ever likely to come across. I keep a yoga mat permanently installed in my car for emergencies, and women comment on it all the time. The only time I actually go to yoga is when a woman invites me, but that happens more times than you’d think. You may still be an asshole deep down, but because you’re in a yoga class the women will think you’re a decent guy.

Talk About Energy

Forget what you learned in high school Physics and Chemistry about the different forms of energy; that science thing is far too limiting. Energy is everywhere! Energy is everything. If you have any doubts, just quote Einstein’s famous formula E = mc2. That justifies describing pretty much anything as “energy”.

When you see a cute girl, don’t compliment her on her looks. Women hate that. Instead, tell her “Wow, you have a great energy!”. Try to keep a straight face while doing it and before long you’ll be mixing your kundalini with hers.

Study Tarot, Tantra, Chakras and Astrology

If you want to be able to pass for a new-age spiritualist, you need to get some basic ancient disciplines under your belt. Anything discovered in the last hundred years will leave you looking like a post-modernist, which definitely isn’t good for your spiritual image. So get down with the local wiccans, study some tarot, find yourself a tantric goddess to learn from, get your chakras aligned and find out when venus is transiting mars.

Change Your Vocabulary

A few subtle changes to your vocabulary can go a long way towards boosting your spiritual karma. It’s not as if you actually have to learn to speak Sanskrit or anything. Just try replacing these simple phrases with more enlightened equivalents:

Unenlightened

Enlightened

Thank You Namaste (add praying hand gesture for additional effect) Listening Holding space Breathing Energising The Body Relaxing Meditating Lucky Good Karma Guilty Bad Karma Die Cross Over, Transition Lust Kundilini I’m Tired My Chakras Need Aligning God Higher Power

Basically, the more esoteric euphemisms you can use, the more spiritual you’ll sound. The more spiritual you sound, the more you can get away with.

Declare Your Home An Ashram

In order to position yourself as a spiritual leader, you need to have an ashram of your own. I was really impressed to hear that Ratu Bagus of Bio Energy Shaking Meditation fame had an ashram in Bali, until a friend of mine who ended up there by a sheer freakish coincidence described it as “just a house, really”. So you only live in a unit now? It’s OK to start small with your first ashram. For extra bonus points, declare your ashram clothing optional and see how many faithful converts you can find.

Learn To Sit In Lotus Position

Never mind that you’ve been sitting in chairs since 3rd Grade, cross-legged is the new cool when it comes to looking spiritual. Even when you are sitting on a chair, you should adopt a cross-legged sitting posture at all times so you look like you now live in a permanent state of meditation.

For extra points, learn to sit in the true lotus position where your feet are shoved right up near your armpits. This will help work out your hamstrings, and give the doctors a good laugh down in Accident and Emergency when you turn up stuck in that position. But hey, plenty of people will be laughing at you now that you’ve adopted an esoteric spiritual lifestyle so get used to it.

Wear A Flowing Robe

Finally, if you want to be taken really seriously as a spiritual guru, you just ain’t going to cut it in a suit or jeans and a T-shirt. You need to get with the program and don a flowing white robe. This gives the illusion that you’re hovering slightly about the ground as you walk, which is good for your spiritual street cred. After all, the street is generally filthy and frankly your hallowed feet are above that kind of thing now.

[badgirlcovenrep]

The Goddess' Blessing (of a daughter)

Chapter Two

Here it is... hope you enjoy

After Tiffany is in warm pajamas and her hair is nicely brushed, they head to the living room to meet Edwin, who is sat at the couch watching some kind of civilian sport that features a stick. Scylla never took interest in televised sports - that was not really part of witch culture - but she thinks it's sweet, how enralled he is when they come out. She remembers Raelle telling her once that she used to watch games with her dad.

Scylla can almost see her sitting there beside him, in her civilian clothes, snacking on nachos and discussing what was happening on screen. It made her heart tug painfully. Once again she considered if coming here was a good idea at all. Seemed like everywhere she looked, she could just see Raelle, and even if she'd seen the other girl just a day before, here, inside her childhood home, it did nothing to how much Scylla missed her - and how she wished Raelle could be here, with them. Warm and peaceful and free.

"Hey, dinner's still in the oven." Edwin informs, once he sees the pair of witches have joined him, but still, he rises from the couch and crosses the living room towards the kitchen "I got some boxes of Rae's toys when she was a kid down from the attic earlier, and I thought you'd like to take a look, Tiffany."

The small witch was still unsure about her new surroundings, and Scylla gently directs her to join the man in the kitchen, where he had settled two sizeable cardboard boxes over the tiled floor, filled to the brim with random toys that went from surprisingly well kept barbie dolls to matchbox hotwheels and loose pieces of lego.

"Wow, Mr. Collar, you didn't have to." Scylla assures, as Tiffany puts her doubts aside for a minute to peek curiously into the box.

"Of course I did, it's not like these were going to use all the way up in the attic."

"Well, you're very kind. What do we say, Tiffany?" Scylla coaxes the younger girl, as she's started sorting curiously through the barbies. The necro is happy to see she seemed to be feeling safer.

"Thank you, Mr. Collar." Tiffany smiles up at him.

"You, little one, can call me Edwin if you like, and same goes for you, Scylla." He declares, and Scylla can't help the affection that settles inside her chest.

Jonas was right. She really *was* going soft. But the witch is not so sure she minds it that much anymore.

"Alright... Edwin." She nods.

"Good." The man smiles, leaning down to take the box Tiffany hadn't yet looked through, "let's take these to the living room so you can play near the fireplace. It's getting cold."

****

Edwin sits back down on the couch a while later, and Scylla helps Tiffany sort through Raelle's surprisingly big collection of beanie babies. The young witch is fascinated with them, and she's lining them up in a circle with plastic cuttlery for each, getting them ready for a tea party as Scylla watches sleepily from the couch, when suddenly the phone rings.

Edwin gets up to answer. They can hear from the living room when he picks up, but aside from that, the conversation is nothing but muffled sounds. Scylla could listen in if she wanted, farspeech is not that hard, and she can surely manage to hone in on a conversation that is happening just at the end of the hall.

But Edwin is kind to them, and she's trying to be a better person, even if she can't push away the curiosity - the thought - that maybe it's Raelle. And how much she wishes to hear her voice.

She knows it isn't right though, so Scylla decides not to peek. They deserve their privacy- not without some internal protesting, she turns her attention back to where Tiffany still played with her new (to her) toys.

"Oh, no! You spilled your tea, mister giraffe!" She exclaims, knocking the yellow giraffe plushie against it's pink teacup until it topples over the carpet, "I can't give you more tea right now, sir, the other babies haven't gotten any, you'll have to sit down and wait. Yes, I'll make you more tea in just a minute." Tiffany grabs the equally pink teapot and turns to the stuffed hippopotamus, tskng annoyedly with a roll of her eyes "some clients are so impatient, mrs. hippo."

Scylla smiles fondly, settling down into the soft cushions of the couch and resigning herself to watching the game absentmindedly. Just then, Edwin peeks his head from the hallway.

"It's Raelle." He says, and Scylla's heart jumps at hearing her name, "she wants to talk to you."

The necro would've been embarrassed at how fast she gets up, but her mind is one tracked at this point, and she can barely hold herself back from running down the hall to where the phone sat by the back door.

Edwin had settled it speaker up on top of the phone box as to not hang up, and when Scylla finally comes face to face with the device, she can't help but stop - just for a minute - in hesitation. What they had lived a year ago was so fiery and fast paced. Scylla felt as if it enveloped her whole before she could even see the surface. Like canon-balling into the deep ocean when you can't swim.

Now, whatever they had- it felt tentative and unsure. Like walking across tight rope blind-folded. It was new, and she didn't deal very well with change.

Even then, as the witch picked up the phone with a shaking hand and settled it into her ear, beside her shaking nerves - it became quite obvious to her. Anyway Raelle wanted to be in her life, Scylla would never be able to deny it.

"Hey." She says, finally, and from the other side, a soft sigh comes.

"Hi." Raelle sounds tired, and Scylla wants to ask why, but the fixer continues before she has the chance, "I'm glad you both made it safe. Dad seems excited that you're there."

"Yeah. Your dad's been very nice." Scylla chuckles, resting the palm of her hand against the wall to suppress the heady, dizzying feeling in her lungs. Like she's just now taken a breath for the first time since hearing her voice in the clearing.

"He even brought down some toys from the attic. I hope you don't mind" The necro chooses to say, looking for anything that could distract her from the feeling and help keep herself upright "you didn't tell me you had like, a hundred beanie babies."

"Oh, Goddess." Raelle moans in mock embarrassment, but Scylla can hear the smile in her voice, and she can't help but smile too, "I- hm- I forgot they were in there. I asked him to bring them down for her once you guys got there."

"They're cute." Scylla replies simply, "Tiffany loves them. Thank you."

"Well- she can have them. They don't really have use in the attic." Raelle says, and they stop for a second of amused silence before the blonde speaks again, "what's her favorite?"

"I don't know. Honestly all I know is that the giraffe is a really bad customer." Scylla replies, chuckling lightly at the previous interaction she'd watched.

"Oh, yeah, he has always been an asshole." Raelle laughs, and Scylla joins her, for a second they sit there in little fits of giggles. It's refreshing and so very light. The necro thinks maybe she shouldn't have been worried after all.

Whatever they had before, it was absolutely incredible - it took Scylla's breath away to even think about it - but this? This was all of that wrapped in warm, soft silk. This was different, and honest, and it filled her with butterflies that threatened to flutter out of her throat with each tug along the rope that tied them together so very tight. She wished, more than anything, that Raelle was there, in the dark hallway of her childhood home with her.

"Thank you." Scylla hears herself say before she can truly think about it, as she leans down to rest her forehead lightly against the cold wall to settle her aching heart, "for believing me. For helping me."

Raelle clears her throat on the other line and sighs before she speaks again. For a second Scylla thinks she might have burst the glass bubble that extended around them, but then-

"I never got the chance with my mom but I- I get to have that with you. I guess I can't help but want to try." Raelle decides. She sounds so soft, Scylla's heart strings tug once again, and she's left at a loss for words. Somewhere in the kitchen, the oven timer rings, but Scylla is barely aware of it.

"I guess I also did save your life. Twice now." She speaks out, after a few minutes of silence. On the other line, Raelle chuckles, and Scylla can't help the pride that settles over her for having caused that.

"Yeah. Guess you did."

"Scylla! Dinner!" Tiffany calls out from the kitchen, and it startles Scylla a little out of the stupor that settled over her body as he lifts her head towards the rest of the house.

"I should let you guys eat." Raelle decides, sighing as if she doesn't want to hang up just as much as Scylla hoped they could be physically together. For a second, she lets herself believe that to be the case.

" I- thank you, for calling."

"Yeah... thank you for- hm- being there when I did."

Scylla's heart tugs against her ribcage once again, and she can hear Raelle's soft breathing on the other side. The witch feels as if she could stay there all night, given the opportunity, but Tiffany is annoying Edwin with a thousand questions about the game he'd been watching (she finally finds out it's hockey) and Scylla figures she should go save their host from being questioned to death. Besides, she is quite hungry.

"Good night, Raelle." She says, finally. "Try to sleep, okay? You sound like you could pass out any moment."

"I will." The fixer assures, simply "G'night, Scyl."

****

The next morning, Edwin very graciously lends her his truck and offers to watch Tiffany while she goes to meet with the Dodgers. He doesn't ask many questions, but Scylla still offers quite a bit of information. She understands how frustrating it must be to be left in the dark, and for once she doesn't feel the need to be as secretive as she'd been before.

The place they send her to is out of the city, away from the bright lights and military patrols. She takes back roads that almost seem to lead to nowhere a couple of times, before they cut into the horizon to reveal more sprawling landscape. Protective magic, she realizes, and the only real reason she hadn't been led away by confusion was probably because she was expected.

Scylla remembers staying at the farms before, when she was very young.

It'd be a good place to grow up, she thinks. A place where Tiffany could be away from all those things that so very desperately wanted to trap her for her voice.

She remembers harvesting berries when she lived here, squeezing them into her mother's basket as she smiled fondly back. It was a good memory. All the ones here were.

Before her, the fields come into view, a variety of different fruits and vegetables, tended by people of all ages, in simple but well kept clothes. Beyond them, the pastures, where fat brown cows chewed lazily at the grass, and even beyond that an orchid of fragrant trees that Scylla knew bore a multitude of fruits, all spring and summer, from juicy plums to red, big apples.

She passes it all to reach the gates, wooden and simple, but still flanked by two imposing towers from where respective guards peered down, one on each tower.

"State your business." The one on the right demands, once Scylla has rolled down her windows to the frigid winter air outside.

"I'm here to see Velma." She says, pulling down her sunglasses.

They give her only a nod in response, and the gates open so that Scylla can drive down the winding road up to the main house. It's an old, opulent mansion, built somewhere along the Victorian era. Over the years, the community had surrounded it by other buildings and houses alike, some looking newer and others, older and dustier, but all sturdy and charming, with flower boxes and wood panelling over the windows.

People and children walk to and from them, carrying various objects and chatting along their companions calmly. It feels peaceful here, and Scylla can't help but observe their languid movement as she parks the truck by some other trailers. It's definitely different from what she remembers, bigger and yet eerily emptier.

Scylla shakes her head to clear away the thoughts, sure there are a million explanations as to why there wouldn't be many people out here when it's still 7A.M. and so cold her fingertips threaten to freeze under her gloves. She gets out of the car, adjusting her coat and nodding slightly to a pair of older witches walking by before starting her way up the familiar path to the main house.

Velma Bjelke had come from Sweden along with her parents years before she was born. They had fled the great European witch war in the late 80's. All three had never been in favor of conscription, but given the way things were going in the old continent, Scylla guessed it was worth the shot to move all the way here. She wonders if they ever regretted it. But it was never something she thought to ask before they died.

When she was younger, Velma used to be around all the time. She was her mom's best friend, with whom she shared the knack for necromancy. Velma taught Scylla her very first seeds, and she acted like a second mom to her throughout the years they were together.

Eventually Velma had settled herself at the farms, where they all lived for a few years, and when Scylla left along with her parents, Velma chose to stay behind. She never quite knew why they left, and it was another thing she'd probably never get the chance to ask.

It should be around ten years since they last saw each other, and Scylla couldn't say she didn't feel apprehensive as she went up the stairs. But as soon as her feet were planted on the porch, the big oak doors swung open and there stood Velma, looking older than Scylla remembered her but still just as recognizable as she'd always been with her curly red hair, big glasses and flowy dress.

"Sweet girl." She sighed out, "I have missed you so much"

"Hi, aunt Velma." Scylla smiles, just as the older witch takes a step forward and pulls the youngest witch into a long, tight hug, "I missed you too."

I gave Scylla another mother figure and this one ain't dying

This fic is mostly gonna be fluff but it's also gonna have some plot around the Camarilla and the Dodgers that's gonna be put in C3, which is coming tomorrow or the day after

Hope you enjoyed, and feedback is always appreciated 🥰

[thespiritoflife]

Pairing: Raymond Smith x reader

Summary: Your father finds himself in troubles with the dreaded Mickey and you pay for it.

Warnings: violence, nudity, swearing, mention of character's death, long story, grammatical errors

I don't know if I'll make a series of this. But you know, feedback is always appreciated!

Bloody rose 🥀

"You're doing great, Y / N!"  my friend Tracy said.

I smirked.  I did a Cartwheel for the last time and then I stopped.

"Thank you, hon," I shouted at her.

She handed me a towel.  "Take it. Then we have to go,"  she muttered.

"Where?"  I was in no hurry.  Oh, I loved Fridays.

"At that party, you fool,"  she said.

I sighed.  "Tracy, no. I'm not going to that party."

"Buut ... at least for me."  she threw dog eyes at me.

"No. I don't understand why you want me there, at all. I'm not a party woman. I hate parties. And you'll have a bunch of buddies there. And your boyfriend."

"God, there's no fun with you. Fine. I'll go there alone. But how do you spend Friday night? Staring at the ceiling?"

We started walking to the parking lot.  I laughed.  "No, Tracy. I'll relax. I'll go to the bathtub. I'll open my wine ... relax. I deserve it."

She didn't say anything.  She just turned her head inconspicuously in some direction.  I turned and rolled my eyes.

Josh was there.  My .. what?  Classmate.  And he kept flirting with me, even though I told him a thousand times that I am not interested.

"You should give him a chance, Y / N."

Sweet Tracy. 

Don't get me wrong, Josh is a great guy.  He's nice too.  Funny.  Athlete.

But he didn't attract me. 

I was not interested in the relationship.  I was attracted to guys, yes, but ... I haven't dated anyone yet.  And that was strange, according to other people.

"Y / N! Are you going from gymnastics, aren't you? You look like a goddess. Let's go for coffee!"

I moved to my car, which he was leaning on.

I smiled falsely.  "Josh .. I am.... Not. Interested..."

He waved his hand.  "You're just saying that today."

I told him this every day, but okay.

"But you can change your mind tomorrow, can't she, Tracy?"  he winked at her.

Tracy nodded.  "As Y / N's best friend, I promise Y / N will be only yours for coffee tomorrow."

"Tracy!"  I hissed.

She just shrugged innocently.

"That's great. See you tomorrow, then!"  Josh hugged me and walked away.

"You're great. Not to hold my side, no."  I told her angrily.

"Come on. You need fun. You can't just ... give him a chance at least once. Go on a date with him. Poor boy, he's been trying for you for years."

Her cell phone rang.  I knew immediately who was calling her.  I wanted to roll my eyes.  Really?

"Love!! Yeah! Come after me, we'll meet ... yes, there. Don't wait. What? I love you too. Have a nice day, I'm sending kisses."  Tracy's voice changed completely as she spoke to her boyfriend.  But completely.

"I'll say goodbye to you now, Y / N. Goodbye, at school! And enjoy your date."  she, too, walked away and waved cheerfully at me.

I got angry in the car and sighed in defeat. 

I stood in front of a huge luxury villa.  Yes, I live here.

I opened the door and a cat stopped at my feet immediately.  I leaned over.  "Mickey! You're hungry, aren't you?"

He whimpered in agreement.  I gave him granules and stroked him.  He was the only one in this house who kept me company.

I lived with my father.  He stopped here that very rarely.  He was really rich, he had his own business and he had some company.

I had a good relationship with him, but ... I missed him.  I didn't want to be alone.  I didn't have siblings and my mom ..

I looked at the painted picture. My father had her painted while she was still alive.

Yes, she died.  She died in a car accident when I was very young.  I don't remember her at all.

But she looked like me.  She had my hair and my eyes.

Okay, I'm going to relax.  I deserve it.

I was lying in the bathtub with my eyes closed.  I have dreamed.

"You're so beautiful, Y / N .." someone whispered to me.

"I love you," I said, holding someone's hand.

"I can't believe I finally married you."  someone said.

"Life is unpredictable .."

The smell of a candle hit my nose.  That wouldn't be weird, I lit the candle myself.  But what was strange was that ..

That I smelled a men's perfume.

I opened my eyes immediately.

An unknown man stood beside the bathtub, looking at me.  If it weren't for the bizarre situation, I would have thought he was attractive.  He had wide shoulders, an overgrown face, blond hair, blue eyes framed by stylish glasses.

I screamed in an instant.

What. The.  Fuck.  Is. This!

He immediately ran to me and stuffed my mouth.  "Be quiet, sweetheart. Please,"  he said in a rather pleasant voice.

I shook my head.  I didn't like it!  An unknown man was at my house!  And he probably wanted to kidnap me.

Suddenly male voices came from the hall.  I thought I heard my father.

My father is here.  Everything will be explained.

I calmed down.

The man noticed it too.  "I'll let go of my hand now, but you can't scream, do you promise?"

I nodded.

He released his hand, but at that moment I got up (yes, I got up naked from the bathtub) and left and put my feet on the floor.  I quickly took the only weapon I had and that was a hairdryer.

The man tried not to stare at my naked body, but he looked furious.  "What the fuck are you doing, girl?"

"If you don't tell me what's going on in a moment, I'll throw the hairdryer in the bathtub!"  I screamed.

"You're crazy."

I approached the bathtub.

"Would you like to kill yourself?"

"I have nothing else left! Tell!"  I shouted.

He shook his head.  "You'll find out at the right time ... well! Just don't get any closer to that fucking water!"  he shouted.

"Your father cheated on us and he has to pay for it. He's talking to my boss Mickey now."

"You're fucking kidding!"

"I don't, girl. And now, if you were so kind ..." he approached me.

He carefully took my hairdryer and I stared into space.  What?

I stomped on his leg, he screamed in pain and I wanted to run away from this bathroom, but he managed to grab me in his arms.

I swung in his arms like a furious puppy, and somehow he couldn't keep his balance and we both ended up in the bathtub again.

He was with me.

"Get off me! Immediately!"  I demanded.  I didn't like it, to hang out with a naked guy like that.

He took my hands.  I couldn't run away from him.  "If you try anything else, you'll just make trouble, young lady. Do you understand?"

I was silent.

"You understand?"  he repeated the question.

I nodded angrily.  What was I supposed to do?

He released me carefully and came out of the bathtub angrily.

He mumbled something under his nose, but I didn't listen to him.

I pressed my knees together.  I tried not to cry.  It's over with me.

"Do you have any clothes here?"  he asked me.

"I don't know," I said.

"Come on. Don't lie,"  he demanded an answer.

I gave it up.  "My father has something in that locker," I pointed to the locker.

The man walked over to her and opened it.  He started rummaging in it, but I didn't listen to him, I didn't notice.

It will be over with me.

I will die.

The man had changed in the meantime, but I wasn't looking at him.

I pressed my knees together and stared at the ceiling.

He walked over to me and looked at me regretfully.

"Put this on, please."  he held my clothes in his hand.

I had no desire to object.

I wanted to get up and fulfill his wish, but he stopped me.  "I'll leave your privacy. I'll be at the door."

I piled up and got dressed.  He was a gentleman.. who wants to kidnap me or something.

He locked the door and left.

HE ALREADY SAW ME NAKED but ok.

Dressed, I carefully opened the door.  He was there, leaning.  He offered me his shoulder, but I refused.

I walked into that fucking living room, where male voices came from.

I saw a few men.  Everyone in tuxedos and on the couch was sitting with my father.  He looked startled.

"Y / N!"  he shouted.

"What's going on, Dad? Will you kindly explain it to me?"

"I'd hear that, too," a man shrugged.

I ignored him and looked at my father.  "So?"

"Y / N, honey .. I didn't mean .."

"What did you do? Tell me straight."  I asked him.

"I ... I ... I had some business with them. I was late paying and ..."

"And?"

My father must have had something on his tongue, he didn't want to answer.

The guy answered me.  "He killed our man."

I felt sick.  "You're making fun of me, aren't you? My father wouldn't kill in his life ..."

"Confess to her."

"I'm sorry ..." my father looked at me.

I fell to my knees.  "Father, what did you do? You threw us in danger! We will die for you! You should not have gotten involved with any mafia!"

"I am sorry.."

"I don't want to hear anything from you anymore."  I wanted to cry, but I was silent.  I screamed inside.

The cat also broke into the living room. 

"Mickey," I whispered and took him in my arms.  He has always been my support.

The man, apparently the boss of it all, was intrigued.  "What did you call him?"

"Mickey,"  I said.

The man who was in the bathtub with me laughed.

The boss frowned at him.  "What happened to you, Raymond? You're in a different outfit."

How could they be so callous? 

"That's a long story,"  he said, looking at me.

I kept clutching Mickey, even though he was starting to get uncomfortable.

"Hey, let go of that cat, we need to talk."  the boss spoke to me.

"About what? Kill me right now,"  I shrugged.

The man laughed.  "No, it won't work that way. I have no plans to kill you. You're just a daughter ... of an evil father. You'll pay differently."

Sweat ran down my forehead.  "What are you going to do with my father?"

"It's none of your business anymore,"  he replied.

"Leave him alone. You better kill me."  I declared and finally released the cat.  He was running away from here.

He didn't want to be here.  Like me.

"Y / N!"  my father shouted, but I ignored him.

The boss scratched his chin.  "I call it ... child's love. Too bad your father doesn't love you that much. He offered your life to save his life."

For the second time, I felt like throwing up.

"What? That ... really?"  I looked at him.  I had tears in my eyes.  Finally, some tears.

It hurt.  Like hell.  My father wanted to say something, but I didn't listen to him.

My father betrayed me.

"But we won't grant his wish, will we, Ray?"

The man in the bathroom with me, apparently Raymond, nodded.

"Take the girl away, Ray."  the boss stood up.

Raymond came up to me.  I did not understand.

He took me.  "Come with me.."

"What, no!"  I shouted.

Raymond looked at me.  "Trust me, you don't want to see this. Come on."

"What..."

And then it went awry.  Raymond lost his temper with me, grabbed me hard, and took me away.  I didn't understand why.

And then I understood.

One of the boss's men aimed his gun at my father.  But my father did something weird.  He picked his gun by himself and shot himself in the forehead.

And suddenly I heard it.  The sound of a gun.

"No no!!!"  I screamed.

"Let me go!"  I shouted.  I already cried.  My father fell to the ground dead with a hole in the middle of his forehead.

"It's after him. It's his fault, sweetheart... he's decided that way ..."

He said something else to me, but I didn't notice him because I cried a lot.

I only heard snippets of sentences.

"... take her with you ...."

"... why me? I have nothing to do with her, Mickey ..."

"Don't ask me why, just do it until we decide what to do with her. She looks awful, put her to bed."

"Of course she looks awful. She lost her father ... I'll do as you say, boss ..."

Some days seem so boring.  Also, ordinary.  Immutable.  Nothing is happening.

And then there are such days.  When something happens that will change your life forever.

[nxrthmizu]

love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!” Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — Ten: Justice

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: so many tears, mention of child neglect and abuse, child custody battle, court. This is essentially the chapter we’ve all been waiting for. I’m so nervous to post this so please let me know what you think and, as always, reblogs are very much appreciated.

Word count: 5000>

Masterlist 

Previous - Chapter Ten - Next

Just like the past few days, you had been rudely awoken by a phone call from Diana Prince. This time, you were back in Maxwell’s king sized bed in D.C., with Alistair sandwiched between you and Max.

“Di?” You asked, rubbing your tired eyes.

“Barbara is here. Now. You have to come over. I’m trying to get her to renounce her wish but she’s fighting back. Come in your Amazonian gear and don’t forget your lasso. Hurry!” she exclaimed before hanging up.

You yawned and put the phone back on the hook. You could stay in bed with Alistair and Maxwell forever but, if Diana needed your help, you had to provide. You followed her instructions and headed out without saying anything to Max. You shouldn’t be too long anyways, you decided. Everything would be okay.

***

When Maxwell eventually woke up and you weren’t by his side, he was confused. In fact, to say he was devastated would have been an understatement. Today was his big court date-- the battle where he’d fight for Alistair’s custody. He had faith you’d be there, just like you promised. Only, there was one small thought haunting him in the very back of his mind.

What if you had become too powerful for this world? What if you already had to go back to Themyscira? No. It would be fine-- Max reassured himself. Maxwell got all suited up and Raquel came to the door.

“Thank you for agreeing to watch Alistair.” Maxwell sighed, adjusting his cufflinks.

“It’s really no problem, Mr. Lord.” Raquel smiled graciously, taking Alistair’s hand.

“Daddy?” Alistair asked, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

“Yeah buddy?”

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this, but I really hope you win today.” Alistair confessed before turning around and leaving with Raquel.

***

“You… Diana!?” You shouted, running up to Barbara and untying her from the bed. Barbara’s eyes locked onto you as you helped release her. “Hey listen… I don’t know what’s going on but I’m your friend. I don’t want to hurt you.” you promised, locking your gaze onto her ocean blue eyes. The colour alone was enough to remind you of the beautiful oceans back on Themyscira.

A tear slipped down Barbara’s cheek and you quickly wiped it away, smoothing out her blonde wavy hair. “I feel so foolish,” she choked out, shaking her head. “Just for once I wanted to be the greatest. And all to prove a point.”

“It’s okay,” you shushed her, cautiously wrapping your arms around her and pulling her into a hug. You wanted to be careful not to smother her. Barbara had done terrible things, no different to Max, but you knew that it wasn’t really them. That they were both possessed by the power of the wish. “Did you speak to Diana?” you asked eventually, truly wondering where your sister was. She’d called you and yet she wasn’t here.

“I came after her… for-- for the dreamstone,” Barbara confessed as her tears soaked your tunic. “She told me it had been destroyed but that’s… that’s impossible.”

You exhaled. “No Barbara, it’s true. Max and I… we--” you tried to explain but Barbara cut you off.

“Babajide said only true love can--”

“I know.” you sighed, looking down at your feet.

“Oh.” Was the only sound Barbara could bear to omit. “You love him?”

You smiled weakly and nodded your head. “I’ve never really been in love before, I don’t think. But I have this feeling in my heart and no words can describe it. I’ve read about it in mythology… like the story of Orpheus and Eurydice and when I’m with Max I just feel… complete. I feel whole.”

“I know the feeling because I feel it too.” Barbara sniffed, pulling off you and crossing her arms over her chest. You could immediately tell that she was feeling vulnerable.

“You do?”

“With Diana.” Barbara confirmed.

“...You-- you’re in love with Diana?” You asked with a small gasp.

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.” Barbara sighed into admittance.

“Then you will know that love is the most powerful thing in the world. Barbara… if you renounce your wish then--”

“I know.” Barbara whimpered, rubbing her tearful eyes. 

“The wish might have given you all this power, but I promise you there is nothing more powerful than the love you have for Diana,” you reassured Barbara and took her hands. “And the love she has for you.”

“The-- what?” Barbara asked.

“I’m the goddess of family, Barbara, I have a pretty good judgement of knowing when somebody is in love. I see the way she looked at you in the tomb back in Athens. You could have something so beautiful together,” you smiled, giving Barbara’s hands a light squeeze. “Renounce your wish. For Diana.”

Barbara turned and looked out the window, her lips trembling before she looked back at you. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I renounce my wish.” she declared, and you felt a breeze-- and wind, almost, gush through your hair. The grip on her hand became electric and you pulled off her, noticing the way your body began to glow. Barbara’s eyes snapped open and her jaw slackened as she watched your feet leave the ground. You were floating, a glittering golden aura similar to the lasso of truth highlighting your entire body. It was blinding.

The walls of Diana’s apartment began to crumble around you and you eventually fell to the ground. Barbara gasped upon seeing you again. “You-- you’re outfit. You’re glowing…”

You looked down at yourself and your eyes widened in disbelief. Your typical Amazonian tunic had literally changed colours. What was once brown, was now gold, red and blue-- the traditional colours of a child of Zeus. “Like Diana,” Barbara mumbled. “It’s beautiful.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you admired the way your new armour looked. The Gods had blessed you with this transformation, and that must have meant you had done something right. You had gotten Barbara to renounce her wish, after all.

No, love was what had gotten Barbara to renounce her wish. 

But the walls around you were still crumbling down and the ground beneath you was splitting. “Oh my-- Barbara. I have to go. I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” you said in a panic.

“What? I’m sure Diana doesn’t mind you being here.” Barbara replied, scratching the back of her neck in bewilderment.

“No. The World of Man… I’m too powerful I-- I have to return to Themyscira,” you said in a fluster. You remembered that Diana told you-- with the combination of both of your lassos, you could create a portal that would ensure you returned back home safely. “I have to go now.”

“What about Max?” Barbara asked, standing up and staring at you.

Shit, Max.

The court case.

You were already so late.

“Barbara, I have to go. Keep Diana informed. I-- I have to go see Max and tell him… tell him…”

“Tell him you love him.” Barbara confirmed.

Could you really do that when you were leaving so soon? You opened the window and unravelled your lasso of truth before signalling one final goodbye to Barbara. In a panic you flew out the window and glided through the air, overhead the bustling city beneath you. You had to get to court, at least before the verdict. You couldn’t let him down.

***

“Can both parties please rise?” Judge Edward Wilson requested.

Maxwell felt sick to his stomach. You weren’t here. You were supposed to be here; fixing all of this. You had promised. And you were nowhere in sight. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his fingers into a fist. He heard the scraping of the chairs as Julianna and Theodore stood. He followed their actions just a few moments after. It was fine. He could do this without you. Maxwell had come from nothing and he had gotten this far in life completely alone, he could do it again. Maxwell took a deep breath and flattened his suit down before shooting the judge one of his charming, albeit fake, television smiles. The judge grinned, excited to be working on a case with the Max Lord.

“Your honor, I am Theodore Thomas, esteemed family lawyer and I will be representing Miss Julianna Grey on this child custody case.” Ted introduced himself, holding himself high and mighty.

“I’m Julianna Grey, your honor. I’m the biological mother of Alistair Lorenzano and I am here today to request full custody of my son.”

The judge nodded in understanding before turning to Maxwell. “O-oh,” Max shuffled uncomfortably upon realising it was his turn to speak. He looked at the jury of twelve that sat before him. Twelve randomly selected members of the public who were about to learn his true identity. The identity he had kept so well hidden for the last twenty years. “I’m Maxwell Lor-Lorenzano and I’m the biological father of Alistair Lorenzano,” he looked back at Julianna and Theodore who were glaring in his direction. “And I am here today to tell you that I love my son so much.” Maxwell exclaimed.

Judge Edward Wilson adjusted the brimless reading glasses that sat on the curve of his nose. “Mr Lorenzano, you do agree to the case proceedings that will be occurring today, yes?”

“Yes. I do.” Maxwell affirmed, placing both his palms flat on the oak wood table.

“And you do not have an attorney?” Judge Wilson quizzed further.

Maxwell sighed. You should be here. “No I do not. But if possible, may I request a publicly funded attorney?” 

“Now now,” Judge Wilson reprimanded, pointing his finger. “I will be the judge of whether or not Mr Lorenzano’s lack of care is sufficient for the transferral of custody.” 

The jury murmured amongst themselves, questioning whether or not Max Lord didn’t have a jury because he was broke. They raised their eyebrows, judging the businessman who stood before them. “Unfortunately, with this being a civil case, you are not entitled to a publicly funded attorney.” The Judge hummed, rearranging his stack of papers.

“With all due respect, your honor, we gave Mr Lorenzano ample time to find a representative for this case. This right here is an example of Mr Lorenzano’s lack of care for the minor child in question. If he wanted to even stand a chance at gaining custody of Alistair, he would’ve gotten a lawyer.” Theodore scoffed incredulously whilst Julianna tried her hardest to suppress her smirk. Maxwell knotted his eyebrows together as furiosity consumed him.

Thankfully, Judge Wilson knew better to just dismiss his comment. He turned to Maxwell. “Mr Lorenzano, you said you were ‘busy doing other things’, indicating that those other things are the reason you did not find an attorney to represent your side of the case. May I ask what those things were? Perhaps a work commitment? Or a family commitment?”

Maxwell was still glaring at Theodore for his out of pocket comment. “I care about Alistair, so much.” Maxwell told the court, but his dark eyes were trained only on his ex wife and her current boyfriend. “I would argue that a week in advance is not enough time to hire a lawyer and familiarise themselves with the facts of this case. I was busy doing other things.”

“Facts?” Theodore laughed. “Your honor, Mr Lorenzano knows nothing about ‘facts’. This man is deceitful. He has built his whole career on lies. Don’t you think young Alistair deserves two good role models to look up to? For example, a stay at home mother such as Julianna who can give him her full attention and care, and a family lawyer such as myself, who fights for justice in society?” Maxwell felt nauseated as he was being forced to hear the absolute bullshit Theodore was spouting out. He was painting himself as some kind of hero to a courtroom who knew no different. But that’s what Theodore Thomas did the best. And that was why he was the most successful lawyer in Washington D.C.

“Uh,” Maxwell squeezed his eyes shut. “Not exactly. It’s complicated, your honor. I was in Athens with a friend.” He hated the way the revelation left his lips. But it was the truth. And if he had learned one thing from Diana, it was that the truth is beautiful. But was truth going to win the case?

Judge Wilson blinked momentarily as silence filled the courtroom. A smile flexed upon Theodore’s lips. “You were in Athens with a friend?” Judge Wilson repeated, gritting his teeth.

“Yes, your honor.” Maxwell sighed in admittance.

“Mr Lorenzano,” Judge Wilson addressed Max before glancing towards the jury who were taking notes. “I hope you realise this does not sound good in your favour.”

Maxwell cursed in his mind. Of course it didn’t. He’d gone with you to Athens to help you find and destroy the dreamstone. But he couldn’t say that in court. Hell, he couldn’t say that to anyone. You trusted him with your secret and he wasn’t going to expose you like that. Then again, you had broken your promise. You hadn’t shown up in court. You lied to him. And Maxwell was hurting a lot. He felt betrayed. Nevertheless, he still loved you so much. No doubt the jury would even believe the fact a magical goddess came into Max’s life and encouraged him to accompany her to Athens to destroy a wish-granting stone possessed by the God of Lies. That would just be ridiculous.

Maxwell didn’t reply. “On that note,” Judge Wilson grimaced before turning back to face Julianna and Theodore. “I ask that the claimant address all their points as to why they believe Mr Lorenzano is an unfit father to Alistair Lorenzano.”

Julianna clapped her hands excitedly. Maxwell figured she must have spent her entire life preparing herself for this moment. Max knew that he’d likely have to sit through possibly hours of Julianna and her sleazeball of a boyfriend demonizing him and pushing him down. Nothing new. But when it came to illustrating the point whether or not Maxwell was an unfit father, he didn’t want to hear it. To Max, Alistair was an angel. He deserved the best and Maxwell had always wanted to be the best for his son. None of this would’ve happened if Max hadn’t been led down such a dark path in the first place. Yes, Maxwell often doubted his capability as a parent, but at least he was trying to change. Julianna didn’t even care about Alistair. She was a neglectful mother, always dumping Alistair upon Max without warning so she could spend time with Ted or go shopping with her friends. Maxwell loved his son more than anything else in the whole world.

“Mr Lorenzano, as I’m sure you all know, is what I’d once describe to be a ‘successful’ businessman. Now I personally think he’s just a businessman,” Theodore smirked and Maxwell rolled his eyes. “He’s a television personality who goes by Max Lord. He’s a liar. A con man. Not only has he lied about his identity to the whole world, but he’s tricked the weak minded into investing into his ponzi-scheme.”

“Hey!” A juror interrupted. “I invested in Black Gold Cooperative!”

“Well-I mean, obviously you’re not weak minded.” Theodore quickly backtracked.

“He did just call you weak minded.” Maxwell muttered with a shrug of his shoulders. The juror frowned and sat back down.

An hour passed and both Julianna and Theodore were still taking turns to drag Max down. He felt like giving up. You were his only hope, and you weren’t even there. “Mr Lorenzano,” Judge Wilson began. “Do you have any objections to the claimants allegations?”

“Yes, I object to it all!” Max exclaimed.

“I should rephrase,” Judge Wilson sighed. “Are they telling the truth about you?”

They were. They hadn’t lied. They’d compiled a list of all of Maxwell’s mistakes, errors, and flaws. They had him backed up into a corner he couldn’t get out of. On occasions, were they making a mountain out of a molehill? Of course. But were they honest? Yes. Maxwell had fucked up.

“They are.” Maxwell nodded, his knees becoming weak with anxiety.

“Okay,” The Judge replied, his tone dripping with disappointment and perhaps even sadness. “It’s now your turn to speak, Mr Lorenzano. Although I have no doubt the jury has already come to a decision.” 

Maxwell turned to face the jury who were looking at him with identical stone cold expressions. Like he was some kind of villainous monster. A lying criminal. And it was all thanks to Theodore’s stupid little speech. 

“Uhm,” Maxwell stood up and brushed down his suit again before walking over to the jury. “Theodore is right. I have done bad things and I have lied to many people. I’m not perfect, but I’m trying to get better. For my son. For Alistair. He gives my life hope and reason and purpose. I believe that he makes me a better person. I’m not sure if any of you have kids of your own but you know how hard the pressure can be. The truth is, I never considered myself a family man. I never wanted children but when Alistair came into my life… for the first time I felt like the universe was on my side,” Maxwell took the polaroid out of his pocket and slid it over for the jury to look at. “This was the day he was born. I had never felt so much love.” Maxwell smiled faintly at the memory. 

“Quit it with your sob story.” Theodore moaned, rolling his eyes.

“Let Mr Lorenzano speak.” Judge Wilson snapped back. Max nodded his head with gratitude.

“I never used to believe in love before Alistair was born. And then recently, I got lost. Things didn’t make sense and my mind became clouded with just about all the wrong things. And then this girl came into my life and she reminded me of how it feels to love and be loved in return. So now I do. I believe in love. I believe that love conquers all. That love can end all wars and quash all hatred in the world. Please, I ask that you empathize with me. We’ve all made mistakes. If I could go back and fix it I would in a heartbeat. But I can’t and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Alistair.” Max croaked, letting a real, genuine tear slip down his cheek. 

Silence filled the courtroom and deciding that Maxwell had nothing else to say, he sat back down in his seat. He knew he’d lost. You weren’t there to help him. He had no attorney. And like Diana had warned him; the consequences of his actions lay in his fate with Alistair. He was going to lose the little boy he loved so much. His only son.

Maxwell knew he was a lot of things but he was not an unfit father. He was prepared to give Alistair the world. An unfit father would be his own father. A man who spent his days drunk and abusing him and his mother. Both physical and mental torture. Max would never ever do that to Alistair. Ever. He tried so hard to be a positive, influential figure to Alistair because he never had one himself. 

“I believe the jury has come to a conclusion,” Judge Wilson announced, taking a painful amount of time to open the envelope that had been handed to him. “The jury have decided that full custody of Alistair Lorenzano will be granted to Juli-”

“STOP!” You screamed, using your full force to push open the sturdy double doors that led into the courtroom. 

The scene ahead was something straight out of a courtroom drama movie. Maxwell’s jaw dropped upon the sight of you and the jury gasped, muttering words of bewilderment amongst each other as you ran up to Max. And oh, you were a sight.

Maxwell didn’t know what happened, but there you were, dressed in red, blue and gold. He pinned it down to an Amazonian warrior’s outfit, for sure, because there was no way any Sears’ or Macy’s or Bloomingdales’ would sell anything like that. You were sparkling, your tiara fit perfectly on your head and your gladiator sandals tied in neat ribbons to your kneecaps. You looked like a real-life Goddess. In your element.

“I thought you weren’t coming,”  Maxwell gasped as you ran into his arms. You hugged him tight and he tried to hold back his cries. “Thought… you’d already gone back to Themyscira.”

The thought of you leaving Max without a proper goodbye was debilitating. He was the man who took you in, gave you a home and comfort, and showed you what real, true love was. 

“I couldn’t leave without keeping my promise.” you sniffed, cupping his cheeks and offering him a small smile. You spent a moment just gazing into his chocolate brown eyes. In the past day, his eyes looked like they had aged ten years due to all the stress he was under -- but they were still the most beautiful things you had ever seen. 

Gods, you loved him so much. And you wanted him to know how much you loved him. He deserved to know. But right now, you had to focus on keeping your promise. The reason you had come to the world of man in the first place was to reunite Alistair and Max, so that was exactly what you were going to do. You hadn’t constructed a plan, and you knew that would be your fatal error -- but it had to be now or never. All you could do was hope that, somehow, everything would fall into place. You cleared your throat and presented yourself in front of the judge, before introducing yourself. “I’m here to represent Maxwell Lorenzano in the custody battle for Alistair Lorenzano.”

The judge sighed, adjusting his white wig. “The case started two hours ago, ma’am. With all due respect, the jury has already reached a verdict. Unless you have any valid evidence as to why you believe Mr Lorenzano would make a worthy father, or Miss Grey an unworthy mother, there is nothing more I can do.”

You felt your heart stop in your chest and it was like everything around you was in slow motion. Goose pimples pricked your arms as you looked around the courtroom at all the different faces. You were standing in front of fifty or so people, easily and they were all staring at you. Of course you knew why… you weren’t exactly dressed like a ‘typical’ citizen of the world. But you just had to suck it up because you had made a promise to Maxwell, all those days ago. You had a duty to fulfil as the Goddess of home and hearth, and you knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but in that moment you knew exactly what you had to do.

“I have evidence.” you said with a shaky exhale.

Maxwell narrowed his eyes and leaned into you. “What?” he asked, just as confused as everyone else. Julianna and Theodore exchanged a nervous glance as the jury and audience continued to murmur amongst each other.

“Trust me.” you smiled a tearful smile and you felt your lips begin to quiver with anxiety. You closed your eyes and tried to regulate your breathing. It would be okay. It was going to be okay.

“Well, present your evidence.” Judge Wilson sighed and you nodded your head with affirmation.

Taking your lasso of truth, you began to unravel it, and showed the courtroom the way it glowed golden upon touching it. “What is that?” you heard one of the juror’s ask.

“This is the lasso of Hestia. It belonged to my mother and it’s powered by the truth. The truth and purity of the universe.” You explained, and the jury were in complete awe.

Julianna was the first one to burst into laughter. “You can’t be serious? A magical lasso? What? You got that from the costume and prop store on 2nd Street? Please. This is actually a serious case. Get outta here.” she snarled, her lips curling into a frown.

Maxwell went to snap back but you quickly stopped him before slowly padding towards Julianna and Theodore. And you smiled. “May I demonstrate?” you asked her, and Julianna gulped hesitantly. “If it’s just a prop from a costume store then… you have no reason to be afraid, do you?”

Julianna turned to Theodore who just shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. Fine.” Julianna sighed, holding out her wrists. You carefully tied them together with the lasso before trailing it across the courtroom.

“Ted, Max, Judge Wilson… feel free to hold on to the lasso,” you pulled it to where the jury was sitting and made sure that each member held a tight grip onto it. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt.” you promised.

“What are you doing?” Maxwell gritted out. “I can’t let you do this. Exposing your powers in front of all these people… it’ll turn you into a mortal.”

You knew that. But it was a sacrifice you were willing to take. If this past week had taught you anything it was that love was the most beautiful thing in this universe. And that love truly does conquer all. You were able to tell Barbara that with your whole chest-- so just for once, maybe you should listen to yourself. You deserved your happy ending.

And you were never happy on Themyscira.

But here, with Maxwell and Alistair? You were happy.

You were finally happy and you wouldn’t let anything get in the way of that.

Taking a deep breath, you shrugged off his comment and turned around to speak to the courtroom. 

“The lasso of Hestia compels you all to see the truth about Alistair Lorenzano.”

You watched intently as their eyes snapped shut and they saw the truth. They saw how neglectful Julianna and Theodore had been, and how loving Maxwell was. How Maxwell flew home from Greece just to be with his son whilst Julianna left him in the house alone. They saw the way Julianna verbally abused Alistair, and Maxwell winced as it paralleled his own childhood memories. They saw it all. They saw the truth.

But-- it was draining you. It was like you could slowly feel your powers slip out of you. You were losing your immortality, and your strength. You felt yourself become weaker by the second until eventually, it was over. They opened their eyes and looked at Maxwell in shock.

You took the lasso from each person and you whimpered slightly at how weighted it suddenly felt in your grip. Attaching it back to your tunic, you took Maxwell’s hand. “Did it work?” you asked weakly, hoping and praying that your sacrifice would change something.

Maxwell swallowed but before he could open his mouth, a juror spoke.

“The jury would like to change their verdict.” he announced, and the judge looked down at the envelope. He rubbed his teary eyes and sighed. The Judge had been… crying?

“Well, I hereby grant custody of Alistair Lorenzano to his father, Maxwell Lorenzano.” Judge Wilson declared before banging his gavel down on the desk.

Julianna screamed. Members of the audience cheered. You turned to Maxwell who’s cheeks were tearstained. “Oh my Gosh Max, we did it!” you cried, and Maxwell let himself fall limp in your arms as he sobbed uncontrollably.

“You-- you just-- I can’t believe--” He cried before pulling off you and flashing you the most precious grin. It was enough to make your heart swell with happiness. “I can’t believe you sacrificed your powers for me and Ali--”

“Well, believe it.” you said, leaning in and pressing a soft yet passionate kiss into his lips. Max’s hands fell down to your hips as he held onto you and relished your taste. He pulled away from you and instinctively smoothed out your hair.

“I love you so much,” Maxwell admitted finally, unable to keep his true feelings to himself any longer. “I’m so in love with you.”

And now, it was your turn to cry. It was the words you had longed to hear from the moment you came to the world of man. “I love you too Maxwell Lorenzano,” you confessed, running your fingers through his golden hair. Max choked back a sob as he gazed into your eyes. “Come on,” you encouraged, rubbing the small of his back. “You have a son to get home to.” you giggled and Maxwell’s eyes lit up.

“Does this mean you don’t have to return to Themyscira?” Maxwell asked hopefully and you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you shook your head.

“No, I don’t have to return to Themyscira. I’m a mortal now, just like you”

Somehow, you thought you’d be hurting more. You just gave up your powers-- your whole life. But this… this felt perfect. Like it was meant to be. You weren’t hurting, in fact, you had never been so elated in your life.

“Well, you’ll always be a goddess to me.” Max confessed, pressing another kiss into your lips. “Come on. Let’s go get Alistair.” he grinned, tugging on your hand as you excitedly ran out of the courtroom together.

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[animeluvu]

𝐀𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮, 𝐎𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮, 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐒/𝐎

Warnings: Characters are all grown up! Mentions of sleeping disorders in Osamu’s.

Synopsis: The Miya brothers and Suna with a S/O who sleeps/naps a lot and is almost always tired.

Words:  2278

Author Notes: This was self-indulgent; I’m just gonna say it. I wrote this because I sleep a lot and I’m always tired. I don’t really like the headcannons, but I like the scenarios, except for Osamu’s; I didn’t really like his. Also I’m sorry it took me so long to update and write, I was busy figuring out my theme. I hope when I write more my headcannons will be better but for now it is what it is.

                                         《 - • ~ ° * ♤ * ° ~ • - 》

Atsumu Miya:

❥ Three out of ten times he will nap with you

❥ I see him as only taking naps with you when he has just finished practice or when he doesn’t have practice 

❥ Will tease you for sleeping all the time

❥ But will also watch over you while you sleep

❥ But he will be softer with you when you’re really sleepy and you’re trying to stay awake for him

❥   He appreciates that you’re trying to stay awake for him, and he’ll be really soft

❥ But he won’t be soft if you guys are around Osamu or just the whole entire team

❥ Mans’ got a big ego

❥ If he finds out you sleep a lot because you have a wrecked sleeping schedule he will FORCE you to sleep on time

❥ Makes it his goal to make you sleep before him 

❥ Like he will call you right before he sleeps; he’ll make sure you go to sleep before him

❥ He’ll even wait until 2 AM for you to sleep if you’re not a sleep before him, but sometimes when he has a game the next day he might not be able to do that

❥ Even if you’re sleepy because of another reason he will make sure you sleep before him

❥ If one day you’re not tired or sleepy mans’ will definitely take this opportunity to do stuff with you

❥ He’d probably teach you volleyball and just play with you on days you’re not sleepy

          Atsumu held your face in his rough, calloused, large hands but to you they felt soft against your skin. You two sat in silence in the dark; a comfortable silence; the heater on, warming you two. It was winter and it was cold, but right now it was raining. Hearing the light, soft pelting of the rain on the roof and on the windows. You felt at peace at night. You felt tired and sleepy. (what’s new?) But you wanted to stay awake for him. He was looking at you with love and affection swirling his eyes. 

          In moments like these he can’t help but look at you like you’re the only thing in the world. In his eyes, even when you were tired and smiling at him with a lazy, soft, and tired smile; even when you’re minutes away from falling asleep he can’t help but think you’re the most graceful, beautiful in the world. He can’t help but compare you with the Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. 

          With your face still in his hands you find yourself going into a deep sleep, but just when you were about to close your eyes, you open them; not wanting to go to sleep just yet. But sleeping sounds so nice right now, you thought, no, no, I should stay awake for ‘Tsumu. 

       Atsumu chuckled; finding you trying to fight sleep was adorable. He swore he was in love. He thought that if you would try your best to stay up for him you were the one. Although staying up for someone is small, it felt big for him, he felt that even if it’s small it’s still cute.

      He let out a small whisper, telling you, you can sleep, but you shook your head and gave him a small, gentle smile. Whispering back, that you won’t sleep. He lightly chuckles finding your persistent adorable. God, was he in love. He kissed the tip of your nose and then just stared at you with awe. 

“Sleep,” he spoke softly, “I know ya want to.”

         “Will you be here when I wake up?” You asked him tiredly.

“Of course,” he reassured, “I’ll even sleep with you.”

      You lazily smiled at him, and he shared the smile. Staring at each other; you laughed lightly. Atsumu gathered you into his arms; making you relax in his touch. His arms were engulfing you whole; you felt safe and protected. Atsumu was petting your hair to lull you to sleep. You slowly fell asleep in his arms.

He smiled, “I love you.”

Miya Osamu:

❥ Five out of ten times he will nap with you

❥ He won’t tease you as much as Atsumu for sleeping a lot

❥ But he will sometimes tease you; he still has the genetics as Atsumu

❥ He will search up on the internet reasons why people would sleep a lot

❥ He’s just worried for you!

❥ He just wants to make sure that you’re not sleeping a lot because of maybe a sleeping disorder or something

❥ Like his brother, if he finds out you sleep a lot because of your messed up sleep schedule he will force you to sleep

❥ If you forget to eat because you sleep too much (definitely not writing this from experience, no way) he will cook for you

❥ Number one perk of having a cook boyfriend

❥ Will feed you if you’re too tired to eat or you’ve just woken up and you don’t really have the energy to eat

❥ Man is SOFT for you when you’re too tired to open your eyes wide or when your eyes are this close 🤏🏼 to closing (I mean he’s always soft for you, but he gets even softer)

❥ Doesn’t care who’s around he will be soft with you anywhere at anytime, I guarantee it

❥ If you are really sleepy that you’re kinda like mumbling or whispering he will cuddle with you, just because you sound so cute

❥ When you are really energized on some days he will teach you how to cook

❥ Even if you suck at it he will compliment you, but sometimes when he’s in a teasing mood he will tease you

          It was one of those days where you were in an energetic mood and you were free from work. So today, Osamu was gonna teach you how to cook! And you felt excited because you usually leave the cooking to Osamu, but not today! Today he would teach you how to cook, and then you would cook dinner tonight. Well, that is if your energy lasts that long, which spoiler warning! Your energy didn’t last.

          You were able to last eight hours, which was pretty long considering you woke up early today and you didn’t take a nap. You were able to make simple onigiri with Osamu’s instructions, and he said next time he’ll teach how to make more complicated onigiri. 

          Then came the time for you to make food besides the onigiri. And clearly, by the way you were looking into the fridge like it was the most complicated thing in the world, you wouldn’t be able to make food. Osamu looked at you with disgust; thinking, How dumb can they be? It’s not rocket science. 

“Oi, why are ya looking at that’s making you make that face?” He asked with disgust stinging his tone.

         You turn to him, with a tired, annoyed expression. He wondered how you can look both tired and annoyed at the same time. Don’t get it wrong, he loves you! But sometimes you can be real dumb. Especially when it comes to things that take a lot of energy.

“I’ve taught ya how to cook before, haven’t I?” He questioned you with a cocked eyebrow.

        “Well yes,” you finally spoke, with tiredness dripping from your voice, and then continued, “but you see I didn’t find the ingredients, you did, which technically means it’s your fault that I don’t know how to cook.”

“Ya had your whole life to learn to cook, and the six years that I’ve known were the only times where you could cook?”

        “W-well you see..”

He crossed his elbows, “I’m listening.”

         Of course he wasn’t mad at you, he was just teasing you. While you were busy trying to explain yourself, Osamu was wondering how long you would last, and if he could make something in the few minutes or even hours you would last.

        “-and that’s why it is technically, even though it isn’t your fault, t-that’s why you are in the wrong for not teaching me before,” you finally finished.

“Yeah, yeah,” he ruffled your hair, which caused a huff from you, “I’ll make ya food, so don’t go blowing your pretty/handsome little head of yours thinking.”

        “Thanks.. I guess.”

“Don’t cha’ mention it,” he remarked, “now all ya gotta do now is wait until I finish making food.”

         You sighed, sitting on the chair next to the kitchen island. You rested your head on the island, using your arms as a pillow.

        “Ima take a nap, wake me up when you’re done,” you told him.

“Will do.”

             ——————   Ｈａｌｆ Ａｎ Ｈｏｕｒ Ｌａｔｅｒ  ——————

        You wake up to a light shaking and little whispers in your ear.

“Honey, babes, baby, you awake?” The voice asked you.

       You let out a little groan, and you rubbed your eyes, “What?”

“Oh good your awake; food’s ready.”

      “’Samu?”

“Yeah, who else would it be?”

      “My paralysis demon,” you declared.

“Wow, what honor to be mistaken for being your paralysis demon,” he spoke with sarcasm.

      “I know right,” you teased.

      He glared at you, which you retorted with a teasing smirk.

Osamu sighed, “Come on let’s eat.”

      “Aye, aye captain,” you saluted.

      He groaned at your little salute and pulled you up with his arm, taking you to the dining table.

      “Thank you for the food,” you whispered.

“Thank you for the food,” Osamu repeated.

      You guys ate shortly after, talking about work and whatever came to mind.

Suna Rintarou:

❥ He will sleep with you almost all the time!

❥ You want to take a nap?

❥ He will nap with you

❥ You want to cuddle and sleep at the same time?

❥ He will cuddle you and sleep with you

❥ 10/10 best boyfriend to sleep with, just because I see him as a sleepy boy

❥ I see Suna as I guy with a kind of wrecked sleep schedule 

❥ So if you sleep a lot due to your sleep schedule he’ll just stay up with you

❥ I don’t really see Suna as a guy who’s too into PDA so if you were sleepy outdoors he probably won’t be too soft for you

❥ I see him as going to the extent of kissing your cheek or holding your hand in public

❥ So he’ll probably just let you sleep on his shoulder, and hold your hand

❥ If you guys are around friends he won’t even kiss your cheek

❥ But he’ll hold your hand under the table and glide his finger on it

❥ He might even kiss your hand if you're lucky

❥ If you decide to sleep on his shoulder while around friends he’ll take a moment to look at you and just softly smile

❥ This is like the only moment he’s soft with you near friends 

❥ And what’s even softer is that he won’t even care if Atsumu tease him or something

❥ On days where you are kind of energized he’ll just take you out on a date

❥ Not a big date!

❥ But a small date, where he takes you out to a café, and then you guys go to a park and eat ice cream, and in Winter or Autumn you guys would buy hot cocoa  

        The soft buzzing sound of the Christmas movie was heard from a distance, the two of you were both sound asleep with a warm, fluffy blanket covering you two on the medium-sized couch. You and Suna had come home about an hour ago from a small date. You two went to the café that you two had labeled your spot for three years, you guys found the café one year into your relationship. It was a cute, petite café; the café was owned by an old lady who worked with her two grandsons. She was a nice old lady, always trying to give you two free drinks because she found you two a cute couple, only to be stopped by her two grandsons because business was a business. But when her grandsons were sick or when they had school she would give you guys free drinks.

       After you two ate at the café, you guys went to the park near your guy’s apartment.  It wasn’t a big park, but it definitely wasn’t a small one. The park didn’t really have any one it, except for the few people who were going on a jog or walking their dog. You two immediately went to the swings when you saw no one on them. You guys swung on the swings and talked about the day and things that happened during work the other few days. After you guys left the park you guys went to go eat dinner at a fast food place. When you guys finished eating Suna asked you how’d you like the date. To which you replied, that you had a lot of fun.

       Now when you two made it to your apartment, you guys immediately changed into pajamas; you changed into a warm hoodie and pajama pants, and Suna changed into sweatpants. You questioned him when he didn’t put on a shirt, and he answered with a sly wink, “Then you’ll just have to warm me up.”

       You laughed at this, and said, “Maybe I will.”

       Now you guys were both fast asleep on the couch, cuddled up in a blanket with each other. And you just couldn’t wait for the next time you guys would be able to do this again.

                                           I hope you enjoy ~  ♡                            

[bluesylveon2]

Do You Remember When? (Epilogue)

Written for @levihanweek Day 6: Memory and Day 7: Free Space. This is a continuation of the other fic I wrote which you can find here!

Part 1

A/N:

Levi and Hange are 24 when they meet again and 29 when they get married

Thank you @levihanweek for hosting Levihan Week and @immagoudaboi for beta reading!

Enjoy!

Levi believed, with all his heart, that he was in some cheesy romantic movie or a shitty fanfic. Like the ones where there are 2 childhood friends, they separate, meet again, and fall in love after all those years.

Well, now that movie/book had ended and opened up to the sequel: the marriage.

Levi stared at himself while he adjusted the tie in the mirror. He was currently getting ready for his big day, and he also wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Here he was at a stage in life he never expected. Marrying his childhood crush, Hange.

The couple decided to keep their marriage small. Only close friends and families were allowed to witness the event. Luckily they found a small botanical garden that was perfect for the venue, reception, and sunset photoshoots. Plus, the garden had a section dedicated to sunflowers, a flower that makes Levi smile every time he sees it. Overall, it was perfect for the couple.

Levi still remembered the day they reunited. It was only 5 years ago when Hange was with Erwin, and Levi swore Erwin would introduce her as his lover. Boy, was he wrong.

Levi made a mental note to thank whoever above for not including that.

(Np Levi)

His relationship with Hange developed smoothly for the most part. Sure there were rough patches along the way, but the two always overcame it. Thus their love grew stronger as the years progressed.

Their first date started as a simple fancy homemade dinner. It was quiet and peaceful. The couple had even sung some karaoke and ended the night waltzing to jazz music.

The second date was a whole 180. This date included Levi's 2021 Ducati XDiavel Black Star

motorcycle. It was a gift given to him by his uncle and all the gambling money he earned. The bike alone took Hange's breath away.

---

Hange let out a loud whistle as she eyed the Ducati. The motorcycle was very sleek, black, gray, and had a few hints of red. Overall, it screamed Levi.

"Levi! I didn't know you owned a Ducati! Do you know how much they are? Over 20k!" Hange exclaimed with stars in her eyes. Levi smirked before walking up to her side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Actually, this bike was a gift from Kenny. He won enough at the casino and bought it for me for my 24th birthday."

Hange fondly smiled at the thought. She knew Kenny always had a soft spot for Levi since he is his only nephew.

"You know what we should do now, Levi?" Hange's smile turned into a full grin. "Let's take it for a spin!"

Levi took his head off of Hanges shoulder and looked at her with shock. "Just like 10 years ago?"

"Yes! But…." Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet. "Can I drive it this time?"

Levi's jaw dropped, and he just stared at her. Hange waved a hand in front of his face.

"Levi? Are you there?"

"I heard you. It's just….are you sure?" He asked with worry, and Hange chuckled at how cute he looked.

"No need to worry about me, Levi. Mike used to let me drive his motorcycle around, so I know what to do."

"He let you do what?!" Levi became horrified. Why didn't Mike ever mention this to him?

Hange waved a hand nonchalantly. "I only had minor scrapes when I first started, but I managed to pick it up quickly. Just like you!"

-----

"So, where do you want to go?" Hange asked Levi, who wrapped his arms around her waist. The motorcycle purred with life, and the two had their helmets secured on their heads. The only thing left to do was actually leave Levi's garage.

"I'm okay with going anywhere. Just as long as I’m with you."

"Really? You don't mind driving us off the cliff?" Hange teased and laughed at her own suggestion.

Levi rolled his eyes but smirked along with Hange. "No, and nowhere reckless, Four-Eyes. Got it?"

Hange did a mini salute before facing forward and positioning herself to take off. "Yes, sir! Besides, I know the perfect place to go."

Levi decided to not question where Hange wanted to bring him. He trusted her enough to know that wherever she brought him will hold significance to the both of them.

Levi rested his head against Hange's back as she took off. He watched the city pass by in a blur while listening to Hange's merry laugh. It was like music to his ears despite the other sounds in the background. He kept his focus on Hange only.

Hange zoomed and zigzagged through the city. What felt like seconds, was actually hours when they arrived at their destination. Levi's eyes widened in recognition.

"Is this?" Levi asked Hange, and she nodded.

In front of Levi was the same park he took her to several years ago. The park itself had been updated in the past 10 years since the time he and Hange last snuck out. There were multiple colorful flowers and trees planted all over to provide more natural shade. Additionally, the city added more benches so people could sit down and enjoy the scenery.

Hange parked the motorcycle so she and Levi could get off. She extended her hand out to Levi (which he gladly accepted) and led him to the hill, where they shared their first kiss.

This time, there was a giant ginkgo tree with bright yellow leaves on the branches. The autumn breeze blew some of the leaves off to float in the air as if they were dancing. Hange let go of Levi to run up ahead and go under the tree.

It was an amazing sight for Levi to witness: from below the tree, Hange watched the leaves fall. She spread her arms out and laughed as the leaves began dancing around her body like it was people worshiping a goddess.

Boy was Levi in love.

"Levi! Come join me." Hange called out to him as the ginkgo leaves started decorating her brown hair.

Levi strode over to Hange and reached up to her head when he was close enough. He plucked a yellow leaf out of Hange's hair and brought it close to examine it.

"Did you know that the ginkgo leaf is considered a living fossil, and it symbolizes hope and peace in China? Additionally, it also survived the Hiroshima bombing, so it also symbolizes endurance and vitality."

Suddenly, Hange's face became serious, and she clasped her hands over Levi's. The yellow ginkgo leaf remained in Levi's grasp.

"Levi, I'm sorry about our falling out in the past."

"Hange, you don't need to apologize-"

Hange shut Levi up by pressing a finger to his lips.

"Let me finish." She added and retracted her finger. "I want this relationship-" she gestured between the two of them. "To be like the ginkgo leaf. Do you want to know why?" She quietly added.

Levi remained quiet but nodded his head, so Hange could continue.

"I want us to endure through every challenge we face together. Until we die. I want us to someday live together, have kids, and keep making happy memories. I know this is our second date, but I have always loved you, Levi. I want you to know that, but I don't expect you to--"

Hange never finished her rambling when Levi swiftly grabbed Hange by the back of her head and brought his lips to hers. She dropped her hands down and brought Levi close to her.

Levi didn't need to vocalize anything, but Hange already knew. It was like telepathy between the two of them; Levi loved her too.

The couple was preoccupied with their embrace to notice the yellow ginkgo leaf flutter down and land softly on the grass.

---

Levi smiled at the declaration of love under the ginkgo tree. The leaf Levi held was now pressed in a frame that sat in the couple's living room. It was a constant reminder of a new start in their lives. It symbolized turning a new leaf for the two.

Levi moved on to add the boutonniere to his suit. The item itself was made up of fake (because it saves money and lasts longer. Hange’s words, not his) sunflowers. Levi smiled after he finally pinned the boutonniere.

Boy, was he in love with Hange.

The door rattling interrupted Levi's thoughts of his fiance, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Mike! Erwin! I told you to knock before coming in-" Levi complained and turned around to glare at the intruder, only to be greeted by his fiance instead.

"Here. Hange?!" He exclaimed, and Hange chuckled.

"Oh, Levi. You know I don't knock when I enter the room. Especially the bedroom. I always catch you at the perfect times." She chuckled and wiggled her eyebrows. Levi blushed and looked away out of embarrassment.

"Why are you here? What about the whole 'seeing the bride before the wedding thing?'" Levi added, and Hange rolled her eyes.

"I could care less about that whole superstition shit, Levi. You know that."

Levi looked at Hange with concern. "What are you doing here anyway? Is something wrong?"

Hange fake gasped and widened her eyes. "Is it wrong for me to see my future husband on our wedding day?" She slumped her shoulders and strode over to stand next to Levi. Levi, noticing Hange’s distress, led her to sit down on a nearby sofa.

"Levi, to be honest, I'm nervous, and I just wanted to see you.”She admitted, wrapped her arms around Levi, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She was careful enough to not ruin her makeup and hair.

Levi hugged Hange back and rubbed her back. "Your bridesmaids must be worried about you right now. Did you go ‘bridezilla’ on them?"

Hange laughed and looked up at Levi. He looked down at her in return. "Worse, but you don't need to know that."

Levi chuckled, and silence enveloped the two. It was nice, just sitting alone together in tranquility. This was their time to share before the ceremony. Sure, there might be chaos outside the room, but Levi and Hange were together. They endured every challenge like the ginkgo tree. The couple was also like a sunflower and the sun: facing each other until the end of the day.

-------

©: This is where I insert all rights reserved stuff. This story belongs to me. Do not modify or republish.

A/N:

I wrote 3 different wedding au's so far and I find that hilarious!

Thank you @cat for the suggestion! This is late but I was inspired to write more 😁

[willownoir1112]

Hello beautiful people of Tumblr! Wyn here with day one of White Rose Week 2021 to break my silence! I hope everyone enjoys, and I'll see you tomorrow with day 2!

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Love Bites

Summer Rose vanished, and Ruby suffered.

All her life, all Ruby has ever wanted was to belong. She tries so hard to fit in, first with her older sister's friends. But, they all told her to go away. That she's a baby compared to them. "Why would I want to bring you too?" Yang would always declare. "You're still just a baby!" Her friends would laugh with her, call her names as well, and leave her behind just like Yang did.

Her sister's words hurt her, and destroyed any chance of them having a sisterly relationship.

She tried so hard to be a good daughter. But, her father spent more of his time worrying about his troops, his responsibilities, his duties to Goddess and Country. "One day you will understand, Ruby." He would always tell her. "One day, you'll have to make the same sacrifices for a family of your own." His words never changed, nor his actions. He would be gone constantly, leaving her and Yang alone for weeks or even months at a time, meaning she had to grow up far too quickly.

Her father's priorities hurt her and robbed her of her childhood.

She tried so hard to be a good student. But, subjects like english, history, anything really to do with reading simply didn't make sense to her. She could stare at the page of a book for hours and all she could see is a jumble of letters. Everyone called her simple, stupid, a waste of time. "Oh look, it's little Stupid Ruby!" Cardin Winchester would declare every day at school. He and his cronies would torment and belittle her, and once even cut her long hair off. She suffered in silence, her arms the only evidence of her inner pain. Arms she always kept covered even in the worst heat of summer.

Her peers hurt her with their words, with their actions, and made her withdraw further into herself.

She finally stopped being a good sibling. She shut her sister out of her life first, Yang never noticing that Ruby stayed closeted in her room constantly. She was the bright shiny sun of everyone else's lives, with her outgoing and boisterous personality. Everyone's but Ruby's. If Yang is the bright sun, then Ruby has become the darkest moon of the family, and she likes it that way now.

She finally stopped being a good daughter. She did her chores without complaint and without needing to be told, save late at night when her father would already be in bed or Yang too preoccupied with her latest significant other. He never noticed that his younger daughter dresses in nothing but blacks and reds, or that she never let her hair grow back longer than above her shoulders. The career he chose to continue to support his family had a long ago casualty, and Ruby keeps it that way.

She finally stopped being a good student. She kept going to school, despite all but failing in everything. She went through the motions, ignored everyone when they called her things like Queen of Darkness or Salem's heir, or even worse. She ignored the shoves, the bullying, everything done to her until they all finally grew bored of it and her. She was finally left alone to sit in the deepest corner of all her classes, doodling to pass the time until she could return to her room and her solitude.

But then Ms. Peach, the choir director, invited the secretly shy and lonely girl to her class one day and encouraged her to sing. From the moment she heard the piano play, her soul became exultant, and her voice rose in response. Even Principle Ozpin, who was walking by at that moment stopped and listened as the shy, moody, rather dark girl who kept to herself was in possession of a voice that could bring even him to tears. Peach was enthusiastic in teaching her how to read music, how to project her voice, how to truly appreciate her hidden talent for music.

But, Taiyang finally noticed when he was forced to retire. He noticed the true state of his family, and decided to take firm control. He destroyed her growing dreams when he declared she and Yang both were to join Beacon Military Academy to finish school. That they needed discipline and not freedom to thrive like he once did. That neither of his children will follow in his long disappeared wife's footsteps, and lack the discipline needed to succeed where she obviously failed.

He was furious when Glynda Goodwitch admitted her as Ruby, allowing her to keep that one small bit of freedom.

She suffered like never before at Beacon. She was admitted two years early as a favor to her father, and she hated it. Her hate translated itself into her becoming a powerful fighter with her chosen weapon, a red and black fifty caliber sniper scythe she named Crescent Rose, and soon where she was once either dereided or ignored, she was now feared. Even her own sister fears her now, and that makes her happy.

She is the Darkest Reaper of Vale, and she hates them all.

But one person did not fear her. One person saw past her pain, her grief for her denied life. Weiss was from Atlas, a mysterious, inclusive land far to the north, where they say even the Grimm do not tread. A land of dark magic, of creatures even fouler than the enemy of the world. A land even the demiurge Salem has forsaken. Weiss did not fear the Darkest Reaper, and took an odd delight in hearing the whispers about her, about them both.

She has her own secrets, secrets Ruby will know all too soon.

She cannot help but to feel an attraction to the white haired girl from the north. Her porcelain skin is always smooth and cool to the touch. Her brilliant blue eyes are like the clear blue skies she would once sit under with her long departed mother while they laugh and imagine whimsical beasts and imaginary places. Her long white hair moves like the finest of silk curtains as she walks from class to class, her nose turned up to their peers as if they are all beneath her. All except for her. She treats the Reaper with respect, with courtesy, and after a time, holds out a hand of friendship to her, one she takes willingly.

She finally has a friend, a real friend. Someone who cares for her, Ruby Rose.

But certain things stand out to her as well. The way she barely eats anything but meat, and even then almost bloody and nearly raw. The way she approaches every mock battle with the cunning of a predator on the hunt. The skill with which she wields her rapier, a dust revolver styled weapon she has named Myrtenaster, with near lethal intent even during the simplest of spars against anyone willing to challenge her. She is the only one who can stand against her, her own formidable rage and loathing a match for the heiress's feral cunning and ferocity.

But one late night, during a restless night they both secretly shared, a truth is told, and their lives are changed forever.

She herself couldn't sleep. It was the one thing she could always count on being able to do. It was her refuge from the reality of her world, and she retreated to it every chance she could. But tonight, she tosses and turns, she begs and pleads with the treacherous brain that won't stop thinking, and finally surrenders and gets dressed. Taking up her scythe, she easily steals away into the Emerald Forest, the guards ignoring her out of fear. She runs deeply into the darkened woods, no fear for the Grimm that hide in the shadows as well as whatever other creatures may dwell within.

She never realizes that a pair of blue eyes follow her, belonging to the single person who doesn't fear her. The only person who is beginning to secretly adore her.

She finally stops near the old temple to the Brother of Light, which has been long abandoned when he left Remnant to it's fate. Sitting down, she begins to cry deep tears of pain and sorrow. She hates her life now, she hates being taught to kill, to end the lives of others. She despises the fact that she is good at it. She never wanted this. All she ever wanted was to be a good sibling, a good daughter, a good student. All she ever wanted was to belong, to love a certain white haired girl and be loved in return.

She almost screams in terror when the great white furred head lays in her lap, with sad blue eyes that reflect her pain.

She stares at the great beast, marveling at the fact that a wolf has appeared here. One of the few things she has managed to remember from her poor studies is that the Grimm killed all the wolves when they first came to Vale. None were spared, and somehow she knows this one knows that. To her surprise, she begins to pet the wild creature, smiling softly at the way it's tail begins to wag as it whines. And then she begins to talk to it. She talks about her mother, her father, her sister, her life. She is soon sobbing in grief at the sadness of her life thus far, and is surprised to see tears in the white wolf's eyes as well.

But she forgot that sorrow is a feast for the Grimm, and they soon gather around her and the white wolf both.

She makes her decision. She throws her scythe to the ground and gives in completely to her sorrow. She is so tired. She is so tired of being turned into someone she wants nothing to do with. She's so tired of hoping people will finally love her instead of hate her or fear her. She is so tired of dreaming of a pair of blue eyes that will never look lovingly at her. She is ready, and the Grimm will feed well on her. But she doesn't expect the snarling, the sudden sounds of battle. Opening her silver eyes, they widen as she sees the once four legged wolf has vanished, a naked Weiss snarling in her rage as she wields Myrtenaster against the foul creatures.

"YOU KILLED THEM ALL!"

She stares at the rage filled young woman. She's never seen her fight with this much savagery, this much hate. Even in battles in which she is outclassed or outnumbered, she is still controlled. She uses superior tactics, the icy calm she is infamous for, and her obviously hidden rage to still rip victory from the jaws of defeat.

"ALL THE PACKS OF VALE ARE DEAD!"

She picks Crescent Rose back up. The white haired girl is beginning to frighten her, and she does not frighten easily. She watches in growing terror as an Alpha Beowolf appears, howling in challenge, Weiss's answering howl frightening her to her very soul. She watches as the white haired woman tosses her sword to the side and begins to growl as she grows. She listens to the popping of bone and sinew as fur begins to spring from her bare skin. She stares on in horror as the one friend she has ever made turns into…

A werewolf. A creature from Remnant's darkest stories has come to life before her, and is defending her while taking vengeance for the long dead wolves of Vale.

"You will not hurt my Ruby…"

She screams as Weiss leaps towards the Alpha, her fangs bared and her still hand shaped front paws slashing at the creature of darkness. The Alpha charges her as well, it's own jaws wide open to bite and tear at the white werewolf, it's own claws slashing at her unarmored and exposed flanks. She hears her friend's scream of pain as the Alpha strikes harder than she can, and causes more damage than she can possibly manage in return, and she finally leaps into action. Weiss is the first person to be her friend. She is the first person to treat her like a person. She is the first person she's allowed herself to start having feelings for in her short life.

She may be ready to die, but she will not let Weiss die for her own selfish desires.

Crescent Rose strikes the Beowolf quickly, breaking the Alpha and the werewolf apart as the Grimm leaps back to avoid the deathblow Ruby aims at it. But Ruby is enraged now. She sees the bright red blood upon the moonlit ground, and it adds to her fury. She hears the whimpers of the injured wolf, and it increases her rage. She roars in her righteous anger as her scythe becomes a blur, the Alpha soon howling in pain before Ruby's final blow comes in her scythe hooking around its neck before she pulls the trigger, decapitating the beast with one final roar of triumph. It takes her a moment to calm herself, a long moment in which she has forgotten her anger, her sorrow, her self loathing. And then she finally remembers Weiss. In a panic, she begins to look for her friend, desperate to ensure that she is safe.

It doesn't take her long to find her, and her scream of anguish can be heard back at Beacon.

Weiss has managed to get back to a small cave, her clothes as well as some supplies stacked neatly in the back. She herself is panting heavily as blood flows steadily from her injuries. But her tail thumps on the ground weakly as Ruby slides to the ground in front of her. She doesn't hesitate, but begins to treat the slashing wounds, bandaging them carefully while doing her best to ignore the pain filled shrieks from the badly injured werewolf.

"Oh Goddesses, I'm so sorry, Weiss. I'm so so sorry!" Is her litany as she keeps at her work, until the blood finally stops. Until the white wolf goes silent save for her panting.

The sun rises, then sets once more, but Ruby has yet to leave the white werewolf's side. Weiss has slept the entire time, but she has stayed awake. She is too scared to close her eyes, terrified that if she relaxes her vigil for even a moment, she will lose the most important person in her life. But her body's needs will not be denied, and she finally falls asleep, the large canine head still in her lap and her grip firm on Crescent Rose's handle.

She dreams of white fur and sky blue eyes. Of days spent watching the skies and laughing. Of feeling loved once more, and being confident in being able to return that love.

She moans as she feels the urgency of the lips on her own. Of the feeling of cold skin upon her own now bare skin. Of cold hands exploring her body and her own hands wandering across smooth, uninjured skin in return. She moans in longing as lips caress her skin with feather light kisses. As her own fingers discover places on the other willing body that bring moans of pleasure from a voice she has come to adore since beginning at Beacon.

But she moans loudly as teeth sink into her collarbone, a tender, almost loving bite from the woman she knows she loves deeply.

"Ruby…" Her voice is husky as she releases the love bite, full of longing and need. She can feel a certain heat against her leg that is foreign to the cold that the rest of her skin belies. She herself feels so hot, so needed. She has never felt like this before, and she wants more. She needs more. But her eyes widen as she catches her lover's hands as they grab at the hem of her panties, her face full of fear once more.

"Weiss… I…"

"I know, Ruby." Weiss smiles softly at the Reaper. "I know what you are. But I have wanted you for months now. Since I saw your strength for myself. Since I got to know the real you, and not your mask of anger and self loathing that you hide behind."

"Weiss…"

"Ruby, I am the last of my pack." The werewolf informs her sadly. "I came to Vale seeking the packs that once roamed here, hoping to join them and be safe." She sighs sadly, her blue eyes dimming. "I am beginning to fear I am the last of my kind."

She sits up and pulls the werewolf into her arms. She knows all the signs of sorrow, being well acquainted with them herself. "I… Weiss I'm damaged. Why would you want someone like me?"

Their eyes meet, quicksilver staring into sky blue. "Because I have been alone since I was a child. But you make me feel like I am home now." She cuddles deeper into the Reaper's arms. "I feel safe with you, and I know I can trust you with my secret."

Ruby takes a moment to think, to gather her thoughts while considering everything she has been told. But her thoughts always return to a pair of sky blue eyes she loves to look into. Coming to a decision, she lifts the werewolf's face by her chin with a single finger and kisses her deeply, while her free hand pulls her even closer.

This may be a mistake, but it is going to be the best one she ever makes.

The cavern is soon filled with their moans, their cries of pleasure, their whispered words of love, their need for one another. Their lovemaking is tender at times, frenzied at others, and intense throughout. Morning found them once again asleep, this time in each other's arms and in a tangle of limbs, a part of Ruby still inside the white werewolf, who smiles as she sleeps deeply. They wake upon that glorious morning and decide that Beacon has nothing left for them, and decide to seek their fortunes elsewhere. Someplace where no one knows either of them.

Someplace where their future children can grow up safely…

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Weiss declares her love for her, and for the werewolf, she will throw everything away for a future with her...

Ruby opens one silver eye, smiling at the blue eyed pup staring back at her eagerly as she whines. Sitting up, she yawns as she stretches, her mouth opening wide as her fangs gleam in the light of the morning sunlight. Bowing her head down low, she nuzzles the white haired silver eyed pup tenderly before the two of them leave the comforts of the small, modest home she and Weiss have built together. It has been a decade since she and the white werewolf left Vale far behind and traveled to Mistral. To their surprise, as they explored the deepest parts of the wilds of Anima, they encountered a village full of others like Weiss, led by a lioness named Pyrrha Nikos and her own mate, a human woman named Nora.

She had heard of Pyrrha, who had been reported killed in a massive battle at Haven Academy. A report fabricated by the woman herself so she too could escape with her own mate and their hard won freedom...

They had met so many others, who had fled the destruction of their own packs and prides, their own groups and hutches. They met Velvet, who was a kind and gentle soul of a wererabbit and her mate Coco, who was the heiress of Mistral's largest corporation and their secret benefactor. They met Blake, a panther who loves to read, and her chameleon mate Ilia. There had even been a tearful reunion between Weiss and her older sister Winter, who had also barely survived the destruction of their pack and had also fled. They even met a pair of birds who squabbled constantly, an overly violent Raven and her dusty, drunken Qrow of a brother.

But the biggest shock comes when they reach one small cabin in particular, where a lonely woman lives. A lonely woman long thought vanished by the young woman, but who in truth had been forced to leave by the man she thought loved her.

Ruby sobs as she rushes into her mother's arms, Summer Rose holding her tightly as she too weeps in joy. A mother and her daughter are reunited to their eternal joy, and Weiss cheers in her happiness for them both.

They talked late into the night, the white werewolf asleep in her mate's lap as mother and daughter catch themselves up on years of their lives. Summer is livid at how Ruby has been treated, how she has suffered for so long because of her absence. Ruby had been furious to discover that her mother had been driven off due to a twist of fate, as she had been bitten by another werewolf during a mission. She had been bitten to save her life, and had been punished for it.

Ruby made her own decision that same night, and smiled as her beloved sank her fangs into her skin in a love bite that would change her forever. She turned willingly, determined that Weiss, her sister, and her own mother will not be the last of their kind.

She quietly cheered her mother onward as she found the courage to move on with Raven, who adored her and treated her with kindness, respect, and love. She had happily held her baby sister when she was born two years later, Weiss still at her side and a smile on her own face to match the look of peace in her eyes. She and Weiss had themselves celebrated the birth of their twin pups a year later, naming them after both their mothers.

But the biggest surprise is still to come.

She still checks her scroll from time to time, she and Pyrrha both agreeing that they cannot remain ignorant of the outside world. There is still danger out there, both from the humans and faunus as well as the Grimm, and all while quietly offering safe haven to others like them, as well as their families. They as well as Raven and Nora are the defenders and leaders of their small community, and they take their responsibilities seriously. But Ruby had been surprised to find an email waiting for her one day, when she had travelled far to the south before turning it on, a feat she can accomplish with ease thanks to her semblance and now enhanced senses and superior stamina.

She never expected to hear from her sister ever again.

Downloading it, she returns to the village and her mate, asking her to read it for her. Weiss of course does so, having been the one who finally helped the Reaper figure out that she was not stupid like everyone in her life claimed, but struggled with severe dyslexia. She and Summer have been helping her learn to finally read and write, but it is a slow process, one she still finds herself getting frustrated with as well as embarrassed. Opening it, she soon stops to summon Summer, the two of them sobbing at the state of the brawler's life since they fled. Tai has placed his blame on his eldest for her disappearance, and she has suffered greatly for it. Her life is a disaster now, and she has already been in a failed marriage. She begs Ruby to at least reassure her that she is alive, that she is at least doing well, that her suffering is worth it if it means that the sister she long ignored is finally happy.

That they have traded places, and that her sister is finally whole in spirit and at peace.

Pyrrha does not hesitate to give her permission to bring Yang back. To allow them to reunite, so that she can see for herself that her wishes are indeed true, and that Ruby is happy and thriving. She goes and meets Yang at Mistral's airship port, where the two of them meet in a long overdue hug between sisters, and not the strangers they have been all their lives. They return together, where Yang is also overjoyed to be reunited with her own mother, Raven. Ruby herself nods in satisfaction that her sister is on her way to a peace of mind she now enjoys, and is grateful that she too settles into life in their village, calling it home as well.

Only she and Weiss bear witness to Winter sinking her fangs into Yang's flesh, the two of them falling in love in this place they too call home.

Summer and Luna play happily with the other children, who include their cousins and their aunt. They are gentle with their younger brother, and fiercely protective of their newborn sister. Ruby and Weiss have slowly become the leaders of their still growing safe haven, and lead both by excellent example as well as with hard learned wisdom and knowledge. They share a deep, beautiful commitment to one another that many envy, one forged in mutual understanding and undying love.

Weiss Schnee came into Ruby's life, and she has prospered...

[thosewickedlovelies]

we could be Dreamers - Prologue

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x GN!Reader

Rating: T

Summary: How this world came to be

Word count: 1,671

A/N: Hiii friends 🤗 soo there’s not really a lot of plot or Marcus Moreno :( here, but consider this a prologue/worldbuilding for a Marcus Moreno x reader fic I may eventually write lol. I’m really interested in how this universe got from The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl to We Can Be Heroes, because like. Sharkboy and Lavagirl were literally just some kid’s imaginary friends that somehow magically became real, so what does that mean for the other Heroics? Where did they come from?? So I kinda wanted to write something that would make you Think :) and explore the ramifications of such a transformed universe.

Consider my previous Marcus Moreno fic a prelude to this prologue 💗

--

It was a little unnerving sometimes, being in a room with so much power. No matter that this particular training arena at Heroics Headquarters was at least the size of an American football field- when all of the Heroics are gathered in the same confined space, focused on a single purpose, you can feel it. Like their power prances tauntingly in the corner of your eye, slipping away when you try to look directly at it. Like it winds through the air, worming its way into your veins, so your very blood breathes at you to run, run, run.

Not all of the individual Heroics gave off such uncanny vibes; some were simply ordinary people with extraordinary abilities. Techo-No, for instance, and his gift for creating fantastical gadgets. The implications of his works relevant to the world at large could be worrying, but he had limits. He was just a man. Determined, and creative (even more so with his son throwing ideas at him), but ultimately human.

Not like those with powers who’d been Dreamed.

Take Sharkboy. The temper for which he’d been infamous in his youth had cooled, but when he snapped, he did so literally- blade-sharp teeth an audible clash when he bared them in a ringing snarl. Any water in the room would roil and froth- but the most hair-raising sight was his eyes, tinged with the unreadable, abyssal blackness of his namesake. Focused with a predator’s calculation on the object of his fury. (It made you think that, ironically, his temper had cooled too much- concentrated into something as icy and merciless as the depths of the sea. Just as well his wife was a lava goddess).

It was well-documented that Sharkboy could influence his oceanic kin, seeing as he was half-shark himself. Some marine biologists postulated- in low voices- that fluctuation in his emotions could unknowingly influence shark activity no matter how far from the sea he was. But nobody at Heroics Headquarters had ever dared suggest attempting a study.

That you knew of, anyway. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was a classified government branch somewhere which dealt solely with more insidious studies of the Heroics. Their weaknesses. Ways to defeat them.

Just in case.

Sharkboy and his emotions had stabilized as his Dreamer matured, but not all Dreamers were so invested in the well-being of their creations, or of the world they inhabited and could inadvertently affect. It was suspected that not all Dreamers knew that they had Dreamed at all, that they unintentionally brought Dreams into being far from where they were located and simply never became aware. This resulted in some Dreamed individuals being...unstable. Incomplete, really. Brought forth from a child’s mind, a young person who didn’t yet fully grasp the complexities of existing in this world, or indeed, the intricacies of what made one human at all.

Dreamers were children, more often than not. Their imaginative abilities generally far outstripped those of adults, worn down as they were with the grind of building a real life. The younger the person, the more time and creativity they maintained. The fewer methods they possessed to process their struggles which were grounded in reality, and not their imaginations.

--

Despite the years that have passed, nobody quite knows what happened to lead up to the Incident. How a single young boy had imagined so powerfully that it had warped reality; how his imaginings had given him the ability to design the universe at will.

The Daydreamer.

Max, as he later insisted on being called. An almost disturbingly innocuous name for a boy who had changed the world. Who had all but envisioned himself into having terrific powers- and enabled others to do the same.

In the years following the Incident, Sharkboy and Lavagirl continued to visit him in secret (Later, scientists realized that this why they recorded occasional, inexplicable disturbances in seismic and marine activity). But it wasn’t long before a larger threat to the entire Earth appeared- and so did they. To defend the place which they declared to be their new home. Though they had been willed into existence to protect Planet Drool, as Max determined to relinquish his daydreaming abilities and by extension, his dreamworld, so did the planet and its life diminish. Their presence there was no longer required, they’d explained. But earth could still benefit from their protection- especially after the reality of the threat came to light.

Someone else had Dreamed.

It wasn’t clear who, or how, or what their intentions had been. But once it had been said, everyone was forced to acknowledge the truth of it- or at least, admit that there was no other explanation. The villain’s origins were not terrestrial in any previously established sense.

Anyone who had ever met a child could have a predicted it. Too many young people ended up feeling outcast, overlooked, by both their peers and adults in their lives. It should have been obvious from the way they whispered his name. Not Max- a moniker far too average and relatable- but what they reverently regarded as his true title. The Daydreamer. A near-holy figure who had changed the game for youths everywhere. Now they had a way to combat those who plagued them. A way to create or become the superheroes who previously only existed in comic books and TV shows.

Or some did, anyway. Individuals with the strength of will and heart to Dream weren’t rare, but they weren’t quite common, either.

The only truly neutral positive of the Dreamer evolution was that governments everywhere suddenly accepted the need for increased mental health resources. Designed to increase healthy socialization for all ages and give young people ways to process and communicate their emotional needs, such programs were approved seemingly overnight in schools from elementary to university aged. “Small town life” flourished, and many city quarters and apartment buildings took to implementing “community builders” or, less charmingly, “social facilitators”- positions designed to create cohesive areas of living and minimize the kind of isolation and negative feelings that could leave someone to Dream of improving their life.

--

Nowadays, not all super-powered individuals were Dreamed. The second generation of Heroics was a testament to that. As if the universe itself had reckoned with the self-inception of the Dreamers, and seen fit to provide reality-warping countermeasures of its own.

Less than a year after the Incident, babies with...unique qualities began to be born. Few and far between, it seemed at first. Whispered reports swept from far corners of the globe, a phone tree branching from frantic parents to anyone who could provide even the slightest bit of reassurance. It seemed like doctors everywhere were swapping glances, no one willing to admit what was happening- until a second Villain appeared.

Every incident report said the same thing: a baby started crying, and then the hostages were saved by a power outage. A wash of sparks that darkened half the city.

Webbed with red lightning.

You sneak a look at the fully grown Heroic now, the long braids of her ponytail slipping over the shoulder of her characteristic red training outfit. Red Lightning Fury flexes her fingers as she listens to the head trainer explain today’s exercise- the usual sort of ‘heroes versus villains’ battles, with you and your fellow specialists assisting as villains- but judging by the lack of the smell of ozone, she isn’t yet using her powers. Blinding Fast, on the other hand, appears to fritz in place every few seconds, and you guess he’s running invisible laps to pass the time. It’s hard to tell if that’s what’s causing Lavagirl’s hair to tendril like neon pink smoke even though she’s standing still; usually the hypnotic heat shimmer of her lava flow causes the effect naturally.

You stretch in place while team arrangements are announced. As the majority of the Heroics filter into the stands to wait for their match, the buzzing, writhing presence of their power fades, and you can breathe more easily.

A figure flickers into being beside you, and you jump. “Jeez, Visi! How many times have I told you not to do that?”

Having anticipated your reaction from the countless previous times she’s snuck up on you anyway, Invisigirl laughs. “You think you’d be used to it by now.” Your closest Heroic friend grins at you, all pearly teeth against smooth brown skin.

And she’s right, which is why you were so disgruntled. Having been caught unawares too many times by the invisible hero’s silent movements, you had once asked her to give you lessons. Her instruction had improved your own stealth immensely, and now that you knew what kind of signs to listen for, her attempts at startling you didn’t work nearly as often as they had. But- “It’s hard to focus on anything with all of your powers clogging up the air,” you grumble. The birthed heroes understood what you meant- they felt it too, the nagging hiss of something other in the Dreamed heroes’ energy.

Across the arena, it looks like Miracle Guy and Marcus Moreno are waiting to be your opponents. Interesting. Miracle Guy, with his Dreamed up Superman-like abilities, was the only one who had a way of seeing Invisigirl. What it was precisely, you couldn’t recall. You make a mental note to ask Visi later.

Marcus, however, telekinesis aside, is clearly meant to be the counter to your strengths. The two men are discussing intently, but as if feeling your assessing stare, Marcus glances over. He lifts his eyebrows at you in playful challenge, a hint of a smile quirking his shapely lips before he’s pursing them at his duel-mate again.

Suppressing the pleased flutter down your spine, you turn your attention to the task ahead as Invisigirl dips her head toward you. Planning something clever, you realize, intrigued by the glint in her eye. “Let’s talk strategy.”

When the starting bell rings, your partner vanishes, and your smile curves as sharp and gleaming as the blade in your hand.

[atths--twice]

Chapter Seven

Fox was up at dawn the next morning, packing the last of his items, staring out the window and out to the Nile. No more would they have the luxury of beds, fancy dinners, cool places to seek out for a reprieve.

And he could not have been happier at the prospect of living rough.

A knock sounded at his door, surprising him, believing himself to be the only person who could possibly be awake at that early hour. When he opened it, he found Dana, looking happy, but slightly nervous.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile.

“Hello. I know it’s early, but…” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Would you like to have breakfast? Just you and I, before the others wake to join us?” She smiled and, as always seemed to happen, it caused his stomach to flip.

“I would love to have breakfast with you,” he answered and she nodded. “Let me get my jacket and we can go downstairs.”

It was slightly cooler in the mornings, and he also had something for Dana tucked inside the inner pocket. He had wanted to give it to her on Christmas, but mistakes being made, he was unable to do so. As they would now be alone, possibly for the last time in a while, he knew the timing was perfect.

Closing his door and locking it, he fell in step beside her. She was quiet but seemed to be giving off the same excited energy he himself was feeling. He looked at her appreciatively, the simple yet attractive style in which she dressed always pleasing to behold.

She did not have overly fashionable clothes, but she did not seem to care or desire them. And yet for he, who had grown up with women of all ages dressed in the latest fashions and the best jewels, her simple dress drew him to her even more. Her beauty was held in the simplicity of dress, her manners, and her intelligence.

And her eyes, which spoke to him, even when her mouth did not.

“Have you everything ready?” he asked and she nodded.

“Yes. I packed and repacked last night. Kept thinking I’d forgotten something. Or could rearrange things and find room to add one more thing.”

“Are you needing something?”

“Not at all. I have everything I need,” she assured him with a smile. “It was simply in case I needed or, more accurately, wanted it.” He laughed softly and nodded in understanding.

The dining room was nearly empty, most of the patrons still sleeping. Suggesting a table on the veranda, she accepted and they sat down. She smiled and he smiled back before the waiter walked up to ask them what they wanted to eat.

After he had walked away, he began to reach into his jacket pocket when she let out a deep breath and turned those blue eyes onto him. They were serious and he drew his hand back, folding them in his lap.

“I want to talk about… to tell you why I came here. You’ve never asked and I’ve never volunteered the information, but I want you to know.” She drew in a breath, licked her lips, and closed her eyes briefly. Opening them, she smiled softly and he waited, not wanting to hurry her.

Coffees and sweet biscuits were set on the table and for a few minutes their attention was diverted. When she had taken a few sips of coffee, she nodded and exhaled.

“I… my family is from Maryland, as I told you, and two houses down from us was a family with three children. We all grew up together, though they were slightly older than me. The youngest boy, Matthew…” At this, she trailed off as her hand went to her throat and he knew what she was going to say. He wanted to stop her, tell her it was not necessary, but she had said she wanted him to know, so he would listen.

“Matthew was two years older than me and I…” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes. He swallowed, hating to see her hurting, but knowing there was nothing he could do to help her. “I tagged along with all of them, equally hating and loving him. He treated me like an annoying little sister, but then brought me flowers or held my hand when I had fallen and scraped my knee. He had a way about him. I was in love with him for most of my life.” She smiled at him with tears in her eyes and she sniffled, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

“He… he never encouraged it, or expected it, showing attention to other girls which broke my heart. But one summer, I stayed with my grandparents and came home in September before school started. I had changed and he noticed, his attention no longer given to other girls, only me. I was fourteen, he was sixteen, and a far off war had recently been declared. Our lives, though not yet consumed by it, soon would be.” She took a second, drinking more of her coffee, not meeting his eyes.

“We were still the same, but different. I had our lives planned in my mind: engaged once I was eighteen, married by nineteen or twenty, a family not far off. I was so happy.” She let out such a shuddering breath, Fox reached for her hand, not caring what others thought or if she would object. She clung to his hand, still not meeting his eyes, tears on her cheeks.

“Though America had not officially entered the war, we all knew it was imminent. It weighed upon everyone. The Lusitania…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. He knew what she was thinking and it made his stomach turn. Opening her eyes, she exhaled quietly. “When Matthew turned eighteen, in August of 1916, he enlisted in the military. He was so proud, ready to fight the Germans and stomp them out. I was terrified.”

“Dana,” Fox said, as she began to cry quietly, but she shook her head, determined to see her story through.

“When… when war was declared… he was so happy. Oh, that makes him sound… I didn’t mean-”

“I understand,” he whispered and she nodded, her head down.

“He left not long after for training and then to England. He asked me to promise to wait for him. It was the easiest promise I ever made.” She blew her nose in the napkin and wiped her eyes. “He arrived in England in June of 1917 and was killed in October of the same year.” She covered her face and cried and he swallowed down the large lump in his throat, turning his head to give them both a chance to compose themselves.

When he had, he looked at her, seeing her tears were subsiding as she took deep calming breaths. Uncovering her face, she looked at him, tears clinging to her lashes.

“My life was planned. I only wanted a husband and a family. And I lost it all. My life ended when his did. My heart was broken.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was… I can’t describe it. I…” She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “I was devastated. Then angry. Then devastated again. My brother came home, wounded but alive, and I hated him for it. My sister’s husband had not fought, a childhood illness of scarlet fever keeping him from doing so. I hated him too. I hated all of them, until I found an old book of mine, one Matthew and used to read together, about the gods and goddesses of Egypt, planning one day to see them together. That’s when I read about Kha’ari. When my heart was broken, I found her.”

He took a drink and tried to dislodge the lump which once again sat there, as she cried softly for a second.

“My path was clear, I needed to come here, to find her temple. My parents didn’t want me to leave, my father was adamant that I stay, wanting to keep an eye on me, but I was still angry, still hurting. I had to leave. I came here with my aunt and uncle, two people who knew to keep quiet about subjects and let me grieve. They helped set me up at my flat and get me the job at the museum in a training program. They left me and for the first time I felt like I could breathe. When I discovered there was not a temple dedicated to Kha’ari, I was broken again. I did my work, but felt empty for quite a while. But when King Tutankhamun was discovered, I once again felt hopeful. Felt that spark within me ignite, just as it did for you.”

She smiled and he stared at her, once again amazed by her, and by women in general. Women who suffer and hurt, yet carry on every day without giving any indication of their pain.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again and she frowned. “I had no idea.”

“I hadn’t told you, how could you have known?” she asked softly.

“I kissed you. I… should not have done that, not when you…”

“Fox…”

“I took liberties and you’re… grieving… you’re hurting.”

“No, Fox,” she said, softly still. “No. Well, not exactly. I did grieve. I suppose I always will, but it’s… mellowed. It’s evened out. I’m not hurting anymore. Not the way I was. I have a new path now. It’s this… and after this… I don’t know. But, my grief and pain are no longer the same.”

“That’s why you want to find it. To thank her,” he stated, as it all finally made sense and she smiled.

“When I first arrived and did not find it here, when all I had wanted was to offer up my pain to her and have it taken from me, I wanted it for different reasons. But now, five years have passed since the worst day of my life, and yes, I want to thank her.”

He stared at her and felt a new desire grow within him. If it took years, he would work to find that temple for her, to present to her the opportunity to give her proper thanks.

If she asked him for the moon, he would attempt to try, wanting nothing more than to see her happy.

____________________

They were quiet after her story, but a comfortable quiet that did not feel strained. He kept feeling he should reciprocate with his own story, but it did not feel like the right moment. That had not been what drove her to speak, so he remained silent.

“The dress your mother sent two years ago,” he said, her eyes raising to his in question, as the puzzle pieces he knew of her life began to fall into place.

“Yes,” she said with a nod. “She sent it with a note hoping it would be something I would wear ‘out with a young man.’  I never found an occasion worthy of it, until recently anyway.” She smiled and he nodded.

“Or the young man, I suppose,” he joked and she held his gaze, saying nothing as she then looked away.

Clearing his throat, finding double meaning in her answer, or lack thereof, he once again reached toward his jacket pocket and took out the gift he had purchased for her a few days past, placing it onto the table. Pushing it toward her, he watched her looking at it.

“I noticed that your journal was nearly full as you wrote in it recently. I knew you needed a new one, and I had planned on making it a Christmas gift, but…” He pulled his hands back and she smiled as she looked at the dark, rich brown of the leather.

“Thank you. I was in need of a new journal… oh, Fox…” she breathed and then gasped as she opened the journal and saw what he had added to it.

Every night before he had gone to sleep, he sketched copies of his sketches from his own journal into hers. The first three pages were dedicated to the sketches of what they had seen and what had caught his eye.

“This is beautiful. Oh, the details of this one… Fox. This is from Karnak. I remember turning around and you weren’t there. I came back and you were sketching this one.” She looked up at him and he smiled with a nod. “Thank you, this is an amazing gift. One I will treasure always.”

He nodded, saying nothing, her story weighing heavily on his mind as they finished their meal. He was thoughtful as they left the veranda and for the first time, her words did not reach his ears as they walked and she spoke to him. His mind was full and he needed time to think of all he had learned.

The arrival of the men was a welcome distraction, their excitement driving away the heaviness of the morning. They were all laughing and talking, Pierre both writing and signing.

Their trunks were brought down and added to the wagons, a third one procured for all of the extra bits they had not accounted for, the others too full to hold any more.

They had to ferry across the river one wagon at a time, the weight of all too heavy to sustain them if they did not. Once they were all together, they set off. Akl drove one wagon, his boys the others, with everyone else on horseback, using borrowed horses which would be brought back when they were settled.

It would take nearly three full days to reach their final destination, needing to stop and camp for two nights. The weather was perfect, the sky cloudless, the company easy. No one could have asked for a better start.

By the time they stopped for the day, they were sore and tired. Akl’s sons began to prepare a fire as he set about making them dinner.

The three men insisted they had bedrolls and were not in need of a tent for two nights, so long as the fire was warm, they would be quite fine.

Fox insisted they put up the smaller tent for Dana, and though she refused, not wanting to be of any trouble, with the help of Sobek and Atum it was quickly erected and her bed made up. As she stepped inside to have a look at it, she brushed Fox’s arm, her eyes thanking him.

They ate and sat around the fire talking, getting to know one another better.

John, 28, was from Kansas, the middle of six boys, and the son of a very tough man to please. He was cruel at times, enticing his sons to squabble and fight one another, believing it made them stronger. No weak sons for him, thank you.

“Although it doesn’t excuse me,” John said, as he looked at Dana. “It’s part of why I was willing to leave when we first met. My father’s voice in my ear telling me a man should never be led by a woman. That I was weak if I allowed it.”

“I understand. I do,” Dana said softly, but she shook her head. “It doesn’t mean that it’s right, however. To be diminished because of my sex… to be thought as less than another, it is unfair.”

Pierre clapped his hands at this, nodding vigorously and tapping his chest. He signed something to John, who nodded and signed back with a rueful smile.

“Yes, it is unfair and I apologize again, to you both. For my thoughts were somewhat similar when I met Pierre, though it was wrong of me.” He nodded at his friend again. “It’s hard. To get that voice out of your head, even after all this time. I haven’t seen my father in nearly ten years. I left home when I was eighteen, moving from place to place doing odd jobs and never went back. I got into a lot of scraps and some of them… I’m surprised I survived. Surprised I survived that, more than I survived the war. But I did and I learned from them, though not enough it seems. I apologize to you once again, Miss Scully.” He bowed his head to her and she smiled kindly at him.

“For the last time,” she stated softly and he grinned as he met her eyes, his forgiveness granted.

Charles, 30, was from London, very near Fox’s family, though they had never met. He had two younger sisters, both now married and in the country somewhere.

“I’ve been away from home for a long time myself. After the war, I couldn’t go back. I was different and the thought of home did not hold the same appeal. My mother had passed while I was in Belgium, the letter from my sister reaching me nearly a month after it happened. I… I read it and put it in my pocket, took one breath, and was back to the fight. I had no time to think about it, to dwell and remember her. I felt nothing because I would not allow myself to do so. I was twenty three, in the middle of a bloody war, and it was I, not my mother who survived.” He shook his head and wiped at his eyes quickly. Pierre clapped him on the back gently and Charles nodded.

“When the war was over, I couldn’t go home. Not even for my sisters. I had to leave, to go anywhere. Anywhere hot. I’d spent nights freezing without a fire and I could not abide a cold London winter. I had to go somewhere warm. I traveled through Africa, visiting many of its countries. I like it here, this continent suits me.” Dana smiled at him and he nodded. Pierre rubbed his back again and looked at Dana and then John.

“Right,” John said. “Charles and I know Pierre’s story, having heard it before, but Charles is not as fluent in sign language as I am, so I’ll be translating for him.” Pierre smiled at Dana again and she smiled back. He began to speak with his hands and John spoke his words quietly.

“I am twenty five, from Bordeaux. My parents have a vineyard there and I have two brothers. An older and a younger. I don’t remember ever being able to speak, though my parents said I did. I fell when I was two and was in the hospital for a long time, though I have no memory of it. I was brought to Paris by train and had surgeries done as my brain was swollen. I survived them, though it was a long time in the hospital, again something I do not remember much of, but from it, I was left unable to speak. I eventually attended schools for the deaf and the mute where I learned sign language. My parents thankfully did not lose their vineyard, as my injuries and costs thereafter were expensive, but it thrived. I will never be in charge of it, my…” Here Pierre paused his hands and took a deep breath. “My younger brother will, my older brother having died in the war.”

It was now Charles’s turn to offer support, his hand on Pierre’s shoulder. Pierre nodded and then shook his head, his hands once again moving quickly.

“I came to Italy four years ago, a doctor there claiming he could treat and cure muteness. I…” Again he paused, his hands lying in his lap. The fire crackled and they all jumped, laughing in embarrassment. Pierre smiled and began again. “I was in love with a young woman and I wanted to be able to speak to her. To speak the words I love you and not just write them. But the treatment was not what I believed it would be. It was…” He swallowed and wiped at his eyes. “Terrible. Just… terrible. I won’t go into more detail.”

“And you never went back to her?” Dana asked softly. Fox looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks as she stared at Pierre. “You didn’t go home?” He shook his head and looked down at his lap, his hands moving, but his gaze not meeting hers.

“No,” John said for him, his voice very quiet. “I was and still am ashamed. Of my imperfections and my cowardice to face her with them.”

“Oh…” Dana breathed and she began to cry softly. Pierre looked up at her and then stood to his feet, walking close to her. He handed her a handkerchief and she took it, grasping his hand. “I’m so sorry. If she loved you, she saw past what you consider imperfections. I know she did.” He shook his head and shrugged, sitting back down as the rest of them were silent.

Dana, after her tears subsided, told them about herself and Matthew. Fox was thankful to her for telling him privately that morning, the shock and pain at hearing her pain would have been hard to hear in front of strangers. He would have been unable to hide his feelings and desire to comfort her.

When she had finished, Pierre was sitting beside her, holding her hand. Their stories were somewhat similar, thus they seemed to find comfort with one another.

All eyes turned to Fox and he cleared his throat. He had never told Dana his whole story and as he relayed it now, of being stabbed and shot, his multiple illnesses both during and after the war, she rose from her seat and sat close to him, taking his large hand in her small one. She would squeeze it when he paused, needing a second to compose himself, the panic rising within him. When he was done, she remained next to him, now holding his hand in both of hers.

“Bloody hell,” Charles said, shaking his head. “We’re all quite a broken bloody mess, aren’t we?” They all laughed, Dana wiping her eyes as she did, still holding onto Fox’s hand with the other.

“I’d say so,” John said almost bitterly. “And with that, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

They all agreed and stood to make their beds ready. Fox walked Dana to her tent and she stopped at the door before going inside. She searched his face and he smiled, not wanting her to worry. She took his hand and squeezed gently.

“Goodnight, Fox,” she whispered.

“And to you, Dana.”

One more squeeze and she let go of his hand, stepping inside the tent. He waited for a second and then rejoined the men around the fire.

He lay on his back looking up at the stars, the sand cool beneath his fingers, and he thought of what Charles said; they were all a broken mess, each in their own way. He turned onto his side and stared at Dana’s tent, hoping she was asleep or at least near to it.

A snore from Akl, around his own smaller fire with his sons, came from his left. The other men seemed to be asleep already also. He closed his eyes, his thoughts once again on Dana, hoping she was able to find peace as she slept.

[patton-cake]

Paint and pictures

Pairings: eventually romantic Logicality, background Remile

AU Summary: Logan has always loved museums. The art, sculptures and just the peace and quiet made Logan fall in love with it's history everytime. What happens if Logan doesn't only fall in love with the art work, but also with the museum's newest visitor?

Chapter summary: Weeks after meeting Patton, he and Logan decide to hang out again! Logan is a gay mess and Patton is adorable. Oh yeay, Remy is there too.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Gay thoughts and coffee dates

"-and that's why Persephone was an absolute badass and why I'm completely in love with her."

Logan took a sip from his hot cocoa before laughing at his new friend. Patton had just finished his fifteen minute rant on why, in his opinion, Persephone was one of the best goddesses in the entire Greek mythology and Logan had listened to every single word.

"You should be careful with declaring your love to the queen of the underworld Patton, I'm not sure if Hades would be all too happy about that."

Patton giggled and gosh Logan could just melt on the spot. "Well! I can take him! We'd just have to fight for her hand." Patton raised his fists and tried to look intimidating. He reminded Logan of an angry kitten.

"I don't doubt that you would win that Patton, but isn't that a little unfair to Hades? He would be devastated."

Patton let out a fake sigh and tried to contain his laughter, "You're right, you're right. What a shame, looks like I'll have to find someone else to rule my own kingdom with. If only I knew where to find some willing royal to marry me!"

He couldn't control his laughter anymore and burst out in a giggling fit, which earned him some weird stares from the other visitors in the cafe. Logan had known Patton for a few weeks now, but he was willing to risk everything to hear those giggles everyday.

Wait

No

These thoughts should stay in 'now isn't the time for touchstarved gay thoughts Logan' because nope this wasn't happening right now.

Okay, back to the cafe. Logan still couldn't believe that Patton wanted to spend more time with him. When he had messaged Logan to ask if he wanted to hang out sometime, Logan had spend hours overthinking every possible response and reason for Patton to ask him.

"Anyways! The project I told you about, you know? The photoshoot thing? That one starts in a few days! So I was wondering when you want to meet up for the shoot!"

Oh right, he was just here for the photoshoot, nothing more..

"Uhm I'm not occupied this week, so you can just message a time and place and I'll be there."

Patton took a last sip from his drink before placing the, now empty, cup on the table. "That's great Lo! So enough about school, I want to get to know you better!"

Yep Logan.exe had turned into a puddle, please restart the device.

"You- really? We- how about 21 questions?" Patton looked at Logan as if he had just offered him the world, or like one puppy. Those were equally as important in Patton's opinion.

"Oh my gosh yes! Okay I'll go first! Most important questions first. What's your opinion on dogs?" Patton almost jumped from excitement and Logan caught him fidgeting with his necklace.

"I'm more of a cat person since I have a cat myself, but dogs are cute I suppose" Logan looked back up from his drink when there fell a silence and caught Patton staring at him with wide eyes.

"You have a cat?? Why didn't you tell me? I need to know everything about them!" Logan let out a soft sigh before grabbing his phone, unlocking it and searching for a picture of the cat.

He found a picture that he took weeks prior, the little creature laying curled up on his bed. "Her name is Minerva, she is a Siberian cat and I believe that she is 7 years old now."

Logan showed Patton the picture and the boy let out an excited squeal. "Oh my gosh she's so precious! You said she's a Siberian right? Does that mean that they are hypoallergenic? Because I'm allergic to cats but I really want to pet her!"

Out of excitement he grabbed Logan's hands and held them between there chests. Logan could sense the gay thoughts folder opening again and tried his best to just focus on something else. That shouldn't be too difficult right? Look around, what else is here besides Patton's hands. Patton's smile? Nope nothing Patton related. Uhm okay cat! His cat. They were talking about his cat!

"Perhaps I could introduce you to Minerva?" That seemed to be the right thing to say, because if Logan had thought that Patton had been excited before this, than he hadn't seen Patton now. Wide eyes and a beaming smile on his face, he looked beautiful

Okay yeay, Logan allowed himself that one thought, simply because he couldn't think of any other words to describe him.

"That would be wonderful Logan! I can't wait." Patton's voice was soft and gentle and if Logan didn't know better, he would almost call it loving.

"Hey Logan? I have to leave now, but we definitely should do this again! And I must meet Minerva sometime soon." Patton stood up and grapped his jacket, before standing up. When he was walking towards the exit, he hesitated and quickly turned around. A soft kiss was placed on Logan's cheek and then Patton was gone.

Wow

Okay so that just happened

Logan walked back to his apartment almost on autopilot, his mind replaying the moment. When he surprisingly arrived safely at his place, he checked his phone and noticed that he had 5 missed calls from his friend.

"Remy? Why on earth did you call me that often?"

It didn't suprise Logan when he heard a load gasp on the other side of the phone.

"I was having an absolute crisis and needed help! But it seems like someone was too busy with his new boytoy. So tell me babes, how was the date?"

Remy laughed when Logan sputtered out a noice of disagreement and continued, "Don't worry hon' I'm just teasing. Anyways, guess who finally got a date this Saturday."

"Probably you."

"Almost Sugar, you and I both!" Remy continued rambling about some psychology major he had met last week, but Logan's head could only focus on one thing. He had a date?

"Remy, you are going to have to explain this one. How and why do I have a date this Saturday?"

Logan sat down on his couch and he could hear a soft purring noice coming closer. His cat carefully sat down on his lap and started licking Logan's hand.

"Well, Emile was a little scared for our date, so I proposed the idea of it just being a friendly hang out, bring some friends, all that stuff! So you're coming with me and Emmy will bring his best babes too."

O gosh social interaction

"So it isnt a date? You almost gave me a heart attack Remy, please don't ever scare me like that again."

He could hear Remy laughing "I'm sorry babe, but anyways, I'll pick you up on Saturday! Byebye"

Before Logan could respond, Remy hang up. He let out a load groan and leaned back into the couch. Minerva meowed softly to get Logan's attention. He chuckled and started petting the little creature. Logan really appreciated Remy as a friend, he truly did, but moments like this made Logan wonder why he had ever agreed to hang out with the boy in the first place.

Just when Logan was about to stand up, he heard his phone bleep again. When he picked it up he saw that he had a message from Patton,

Pathos: Hiya Lo! :D I was wondering if you were free next Sunday? For the photoshoot?

Logos: That would be satisfactory. Shall we meet at the museum?

Pathos: Sounds perfect! :) See you around 2?

Logos: See you there.

He softly petted Minerva and sighed. How was he ever going to survive this weekend?

[thedistrictsleepsalonetonight]

Paper Rings (or Dani and Jamie accidentally adopt a family and also move in together)

Moving in is a process.

A process in italics. A process, underlined. A process emphasized heavily, with quotation marks around it, because Dani isn’t sure of how to describe the two months that have somehow resulted in her apparently having opened her home to a middle-aged couple, a sulky teenager, and child who bursts into the phrase “Perfectly splendid” in intervals, and a lawyer trying her very best to also have a dating life.

“Did you forget your whole entire girlfriend?” Jamie asks her, arms weighed down by a box full of crockeries and Flora who’s hanging on her back.

Oh.

Dani raises a finger like she’s making a point. “I did not,” she says, very slowly, hoping to somehow generate words as she speaks. “I did not mention you, because I didn’t need to. Because you, baby, have always been home for me.”

Hah. Take that, Hannah. To think she was of the opinion Dani couldn’t romance very well.

Jamie stares at her. “You’re so full of shit, Poppins.”

Miles opens his eyes from where he’s been listening to music on the couch for the past half-hour and leans forward, only to say — “Busted”, and Dani is officially done with everything.

*****

Strangely enough, it starts with cream.

Dani remembers it well, because it’s one of the very few argument-esque discussions they’ve had in their year and a half relationship. It’s one of the nights Dani is over at Jamie’s as opposed to it being one of the nights Jamie is over at Dani. They don’t keep track anymore. Most of the evenings, it just comes down to how much in a hurry they are to get to some place and eat and stretch out on the couch in peace.  

(Amongst other activities of course, so most of the time it’s Dani’s place)

So they’re at Jamie’s apartment, on a chilly evening about five months into dating when she jumps into bed after her shower and asks Jamie for her hand cream.

“Oh, that,” Jamie says. She opens her nightstand drawer, takes out a bottle and chucks it in her direction so it lands roughly an inch away from her hand. It also lands with its label upwards, so Dani is reading the words correctly when she says —

“This is a body lotion.”

“Yeah, that’s what you needed, right?”

“No, babe,” she answers Jamie patiently. “I asked for hand cream.”

Jamie frowns. Stares at the bottle. Then back at her. Does that for about two more times before she opens her mouth.

“Um,” she says, picking it up and pointing it to her other hand in an exaggerated motion. “Yes. You do put this on your hands.”

Why would you do that, Dani thinks, with exclamation marks punctuating every word of that. “I use hand cream. You know, it’s like foot cream but for your hands.”

“What’s that?”

(She’s not going to bore everyone with what the whole discussion that occurs then. The words keep coming, the exclamation marks keep increasing, and somehow, they conclude in this absolute gem of an ending that nobody knows how to process.)

“How could you not—”

“—wait, I’m sorry, we didn’t exactly have fancy shit up in prison, you know.”

There is silence. Dani sees her girlfriend’s lips twitching, her eyes betraying the mirth hanging behind her words. She picks up her pillow and throws it in Jamie’s face.

“You cannot keep pulling the prison card every argument we have, you ass.”

“But it works so well!”

“That wasn’t even the point. The point was that hand creams are best for hands and foot creams are best for, you know, feet and—”

“—and somehow,” Jamie tells her, “my hands and my feet are made of skin like the rest of my body. Look at that! What a surprise!”

“That’s a valid point,” Dani says, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, trying her very best to be a nice and supportive girlfriend. “But that’s like saying that you can wear your underwear on your face since every part of your body has skin on it.”

“Who says I’m even wearing underwear?” Jamie’s right eyebrow is raised, lips pressed flat with the effort to keep from laughing and well—

(In her defense, she does have the sexiest girlfriend in the world and it’s totally understandable that she got distracted)

The next evening, she orders an entire set of creams, with Jamie grumbling in the background somewhere. I’m here most of the time anyways, she says. It’s for the both of us, if that makes you feel any better.

From Jamie’s smile, she thinks it does, and that’s how the idea starts taking root in her mind.

*****

This is how love works. Or so she’s heard. The honeymoon period is but a couple of months, and then real-life hits. After three months is when that bright illusion shatters, of your partner possibly being the most beautiful angel to ever grace this planet, and you start seeing them as who they really are — clueless and flawed individuals who do not know the difference between moisturizer and hand cream.

So she waits, holding her heart carefully in her hands. Waits a month. Two. Four. Five. And it is a couple of days after Owen and Hannah baked them a cake to wish them a ‘Happy 6 months together, y’all’, that Jamie pokes her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth.

“Oi nah flick offa,” she says, and Dani blinks.

“I didn’t get that, sweetheart.”

Jamie disappears (to get rid of the foam in her mouth, Dani guesses) then reappears a minute later, face glowing. “I said I’m not sick of you yet.”

Dani smiles at her. “I’m not sick of you either.”

And it is such a strange thought, once articulated out loud. She still wakes up every morning, and stays for a while admiring the way the sunlight hits Jamie’s face, the way it dances with her skin and makes her look like an old Goddess; still wants to cling to Jamie like a panda whenever she sees her after a long time. Her heart still hasn’t gotten used to the most wonderful woman in the world loving her, touching her, kissing her, and she still has to give it a little time to restart every time she makes Jamie smile.  

Six months she’s kept thinking This will go away. Six months and it hasn’t.  

Dani kind of thinks (hopes, dreams) it’s forever.  

Dani kind of knows it’s forever.

Jamie plops onto the bed, arms stretching out across her back and legs finding their place over hers, interrupting her train of thought. It’s when she’s nuzzling into Dani’s shirt that the color of the shirt registers.

“Is that,” Dani says. “Is that my shirt?”

Jamie’s hands are already clutching at the fabric of the oversized lavender shirt as she finishes, as if Dani’s going to take it away from her. As if it doesn’t make Dani’s heart do funny things inside her chest to see her in it. As if she doesn’t want Jamie to only wear her clothes, because she looks so at home in them. Like she is Dani’s, forever.  

Like Dani is hers, forever.

“It’s your place,” Jamie argues. “There’s only a certain number of things I can keep wearing, you know?”

Dani kisses her cheek. Hums.

“I’m keeping it,” Jamie continues.

“Okay,” Dani says, simply, her smile saying the things she’s too embarrassed to say out loud. It’s yours. Whatever I have is yours. My home, my clothes. My heart.

(The next night when she’s over at Jamie’s, she makes Jamie pack an entire drawer full of her clothes into her bag so she can carry it over to her own place for the nights to come. There’s an empty space cleared up in the closet that sings Jamie’s name every time Dani opens the door. It will never be empty again.)

*****

“But Jamie, please,” Flora pleads.

“Yes, Jamie, please,” Dani parrots, highly amused at the vein twitching at the corner of Jamie’s forehead.

Jamie takes one look at them, at Owen and Hannah cozied up on their couch, at Miles who’s reclining against the wall trying to appear supremely disinterested and then finally to the kitten who is sleeping in Rebecca’s arms.

“Absolutely not,” she declares.

“But look at him!” Dani says, pouting. It is unfair, she supposes, for both her and Flora to pout together in the face of Jamie’s reticence but desperate times call for desperate measures.

(And she wants to pet that kitten, desperately)

“He’ll be happy with you, really,” Owen jumps in, just for the satisfaction that Jamie’s annoyance gives him, and immediately gets hit with a deadly look.

“Why don’t you guys keep him, then?”

Hannah tsks. “Oh,” she says, sounding not very sad. “I have that allergy, you know.”

“You haven’t sneezed once in all this time!”

“It’s.... a seasonal thing. A seasonal plus feline thing. I don’t know how to explain it to you, dear.”

“Baby,” Dani says, hands reaching out to hold Jamie’s. “He needs a home. We can give it to him.”

Jamie’s slowly developing a half-crazed look in her eyes, which Dani finds hilarious. “And who is this we you’re referring to? Because I’m pretty sure I’m gonna be the one taking care of the.... the thing.”

“He is a kitten,” Flora emphasizes, indignantly.

“A one-eyed kitten,” Rebecca adds, and after a round of Aws and coos that’s how Cyclops ends up living with them.

“I’m not taking care of it,” Jamie announces, right away, and Dani reminds her of it every day for a month after the day she finds them on the couch with the kitten conked out on a sleeping Jamie’s chest.  

(“We are not calling the poor thing Cyclops,” Dani protests.

Miles simply grins.)

*****

It’s time.

She’s said this to herself every morning when she wakes up in Jamie’s arms, her four pillows strewn around them and with most of the blanket hanging off Jamie’s side. Every evening as they walk back to Dani’s place arguing whether it was Chinese or Indian they were in the mood for, and when they’ve inevitably ended up at Owen’s restaurant, sharing a meal with the rest of their family. Every time they bicker over Jamie’s clothes now taking up more space in her closet than her own dresses. Let’s move in, she thinks, more and more with each passing in. Let’s live together, she almost says when Jamie decides to pop into her own apartment inevitably.

Surprisingly enough, Jamie says it first. They’re watching some reality show that involves a very accomplished woman and twelve idiots trying to win her hand, when Jamie turns to her and asks her if Dani would consider moving in with her.

“Sure,” Dani says, off-handedly, before she chokes on the large gulp of water she’d taken a moment ago. “Wait, what?”

Jamie is very determinedly not looking in her direction, her eyes hyper focused on one spot of the screen. Dani plays with her hair and waits.

“I was.... wondering, if you’d like to move in with me.”

Wondering, as though Dani wouldn’t lay down her life if Jamie asked, Dani thinks. She raises her hand, and nudges at Jamie’s chin until they’re facing each other.

“Have you thought about it?” she asks, carefully.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, which is the problem,” Jamie grumbles, and Dani is endlessly endeared by the adorable frown on her face. “Thinking about how nice it would be to go to sleep and wake up next to you every morning, and how my brother could use my apartment when he’s home from college during the holidays, and me not having to move more and more of my clothes here—”

“—and the stupid cat,” Dani adds.

“—and the stupid cat,” Jamie concludes, glancing once at Cyclops who’s finding great pleasure in chasing the Roomba around.

“Sure you’re not sick of me yet?” Dani asks her, casually, hoping she picks up on what she really means to say.  

Jamie kisses her once, twice. “Never, my love.”

And that’s that.

*****

“Catch,” Owen shouts, before a vase comes sailing through the air and lands perfectly in Miles’ hand, followed by the sound of their combined laughter.

Dani, who’s just gone through the five stages of grief, collapses onto the couch next to Rebecca.

“How did we accidentally adopt a whole bunch of children?”

“Hey!” Rebecca protests. “I am a mature adult who has her whole life in order.”

“You’re just got sent a Wazzup on Tinder by a 40-year-old man who enjoys fishing on the weekends, kid,” Jamie passes by, hand reaching out to mess up Rebecca’s perfectly done hair. “Nobody here has their life in order.”

Rebecca sticks out her tongue. “This is not nice.”

Dani disagrees. This, impromptu lasagna dinners at least thrice every week filled with laughter and ribbing, days full of sunshine and kittens and the prettiest woman at home in her arms, she thinks, is very nice, actually. Love takes effort and work, but somehow it is also easy and beautiful, and so worth it that it’s found a permanent place behind her ribcage, in her lungs, in her limbs, and in her eyes.

“Do you think this is straight?” Hannah asks her, pointing at the photos on the wall.

“Nothing about this is straight,” Miles mumbles.

“That’s very funny, Miles,” Dani snipes at him, but she gets up and stands next to Jamie. Looks up at the photos.

There’s one of her on the street corner, sitting with her typewriter, surrounded by a bunch of clamoring people. One of Jamie and her brother. One of Cyclops perched on top of Miles’ head. One, of the time when Jamie and Dani had been trying to take a romantic photo all day, only to get interrupted by Owen finger-gunning in the background. The photo had ended up including all of them, squashed together on the tiny couch, with Flora half on Jamie’s lap, and half on Hannah’s.

(There’s a last one that Rebecca had snapped in the middle of dinner one night, of Dani and Jamie staring at each other, speaking a language only they knew. Dani’s hand, carrying a spoonful of mashed potatoes, is half-raised, with the spoon almost touching Jamie’s lips. It’s Dani’s favorite. She knows Jamie loves it too.)

This is how love works, she thinks. You build a relationship. Family just sort of forms around you.

“It’s perfect,” she says, head leaning on Jamie’s shoulder.

And it really is.

[theshy1sout]

Inseparable - Chapter 20

Tags: Not rated, Broppy Fluff, Slow Burn Fluff, Trolls Mythology Au

Ao3 here

Notes:  I can't believe I've finally written the whole fanfiction, from the very beginning to the very end. I'd never finished anything in my entire life. And I also wrote it in English! You have no idea how many hard was for me to learn another language. Guh, I'm so proud of myself. I know that the end isn't very satisfying. I mean, I suppose to be a fluff, and yes it is, but the end is a bit... Ambitious? I didn't want to finish it with a kiss, I planned to explain how the strings were created from the very beginning. Tell me your impression in the comments. Thank you for being my reader :)

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- Dad, why do we have to sleep? - A little violet kid hides his face deeper into his father's shirt. - I thought you said once that Immortals don't have to sleep. But we sleep every night! It's... - He yawns. - ...frustrating.

Branch smiles at him, stroking his hair gently.

- I don't know - The blue god admits calmly. - I've never been a child. Ask your mother. She was.

A small girl looks up at the pink goddess, showing her eyes filled with surprise.

- You were a kid and dad wasn't? - She asks aloud.

- Dad came from Chaos - Poppy explains quietly, hugging her daughter a bit tighter. - And I was born just like you. That's why you have a grandpa and others don't.

- So why do Immortal kids have to sleep?

The last question comes from the oldest child, lying a bit aside from the rest. He doesn't like hugging that much. He prefers to sleep alone.

- I don't know, Aster - Poppy turns to him with a smile. - I needed it when I was a kid, that's all I know. We don't know much about immortal kids, they are really rare.

- That's why you are so special - Branch adds, smiling at his kid. He yawns, making everyone, one by one, yawning too. - You really need to sleep now.

- Are you sleeping with us? - A little girl lifts her sparkling eyes.

- Star, do we ever leave you during sleep?

- How can we know? - Aster points out. He really likes discussions. - What if you leave us when we get asleep and come back in the morning?

Star looks worryingly at dad.

- I swear we don't do that! - The blue god declares openly.

- Look, Happy is already asleep - Poppy glances down at the kid cuddled into Branch's arms. She takes a look at her daughter, kissing her on her light pink forehead. - Just close your eyes, little Star.

The girl smiles and listens to her mum. A few minutes later the grasshoppers' concert is disturbed only by calm breaths from children's mouths.

- That was fast - Branch whispers, gazing at his daughter. - What about Aster?

Poppy turns to her left where her son is lying a step or two from them.

- I think he's sleeping too - She announces.

They both look up at the clear nightly sky. They are staring at the twinkling stars for a while, listening to the soft melody of the grasshoppers' song. The light blue moon shines above them, watching the whole Earth from the sky. Everything is pleasantly calm.

- Let's figure it out again - Poppy starts out of nowhere. She doesn't have to explain she means their work. They both think about it most of the time. - What do we know about Love?

- The last time we separated six things it needs to be full and true - Branch starts listing. - Free will, awareness, affection, honesty, attachment, and emotionality.

- Six inseparable parts of Love - The goddess looks at the god, frowning sadly. - And trolls don't have even one of them.

Branch heave a deep sigh. He carefully moves closer to her, trying to not wake up his son cuddled to his right side. He slips his free hand under her head and embraces her shoulders, touching her to him. She has no hand to hug him back, but they both get used to it. They all like a “family” sleep hug, it’s really cozy and warm. Besides Aster, he doesn’t like hugs that much.

- I don’t want to repeat myself on and on, but I’ve already told you - The god says softly, gently touching her ear with the top of his nose. - We can do anything more by ourselves. We have to ask others for help.

- But what can they do! - The goddess huffs. - They will never agree to give trolls free will. It’s too risky. My dad especially will disagree. He told me about Creek and Chaz last time…

She stops, staring helplessly at the stars. From the moment they both became the goddess and the god of Love, they are thought of as the most powerful Immortals. Even if their main mission is to bring Love to trolls and teach them everything about it, other Immortals also come to them for advice and solutions to their problems. They have everyone’s respect and trust, they are welcome with open arms anywhere they go. Their kids are well-known and loved, their names are sounded with a warm smile on face.

If they can’t do something, who else can do?

And giving trolls free will and awareness, giving them an ability to feel and think independently, letting them choose… would open the door to wars and conflicts, like when Chaz came from the Chaos. Do they really want this for trolls?

- Don’t overthink this again - Branch’s low whisper in her ear gets her back to reality. - We all know how risky it is. But tell me honestly… - She feels his hand tenderly caressing her arm. She sighs calmly. Years passed and she’s still enjoying his touch as much as for the first time. - Isn’t it worth it?

Poppy turns to him, catching his sight. He smiles affectionately at her in a way that always makes her melt and want to kiss him. She can’t resist but smiles back gently at him.

- You think it’s so easy… - She says.

- I’m not - He drops his smiles, looking at her seriously. - My first step on the Fest wasn’t easy. But I’ve never regretted it.

She gazes at his blue eyes for a while, thinking.

- And I also needed help back then - He adds, moving his head closer to her. - Your help.

The goddess is still hesitating, staring at him in silence. She touches his forehead with hers. She sighs heavily, closing her eyes. They stay for a while like that, nodding off.

- Do you need one more night to think about it? - Branch asks softly, the care is hearable in his voice.

- No - Poppy says quietly. - You’re right…

- You don’t sound convinced - He points out after a moment.

- I don’t know - She admits. - I have bad feelings about that…

- Things worth effort are always challenging. Look at me and tell me if I was easy to bear at the first meet

Poppy smiles widely.

- It was always hard to not love you - She says, chuckling quietly.

Branch giggles heartily, grinning really wide. He presses his lips against her and they share a long, slow, passionate kiss.

- You’re lucky our kids are hugging us right now - Branch smirks at her when they finally go away. - I would not stop myself in any other case.

Poppy giggles gently, nestling her face into him. She sighs calmly, smelling his warm scent.

- We’ll ask others for help - She announces, now with more confidence. - Tomorrow.

***

- ...and in those circumstances we are helpless.

King Peppy looks patiently at Branch and Poppy from his high throne. In absolute silence, the sounds of kids playing outdoors are really hearable. There are not only Branch and Poppy’s children; after they taught Immortals about Love, many of them start building similar relationships and some of them also have offspring. There are six immortal children now, not counting Poppy. The youngest of them, little Star, as a Peppy’s favorite, is sitting on his lap now, taking an afternoon nap.

- We need your help - The pink goddess looks around, trying to address it to everyone gathered. But no one says anything. Immortals glance at each other, looking for anyone who would know the possible answer. Above their heads, the single thought is floating loudly in silence: “How could anybody know more about Love than the god and the goddess of Love as large as life?”. Poppy glances at Branch helplessly, knowing what this situation means for them.

- Well, if no one has any idea - The blue god starts slowly, looking around. - There’s only one other option. We have to give trolls what they haven’t got yet.

King Peppy opens his eyes widely at him in sudden realization.

- You don’t mean…

- Giving trolls free will. Exactly - Branch nods calmly.

- Is that necessary? - Delta Dawn, the goddess of Justice, asks, crossing her arms on her chest.

- There’s no Love without the free will - The god explains.

- But the ability to feel and think independently opens trolls the door to not only fight with each other - The god of Wisdom, Stacy, points out. - But also to kick out against us.

His speech wakes up murmuring all around.

- Listen, now trolls don’t understand how much we care about them - Branch goes on. - They don’t even know we love them. They can’t love us back. They are empty souls listening to our every order. They are our slaves.

His last words make everybody freeze in silence.

- I’m also scared of what will happen if we give trolls absolute freedom - Poppy finally finds her words, joining her lover’s speech. - They will reject us, fight with us, ignore us, tell us they don’t need our love for them. They will also fight with each other because Chaz’s seeds don’t disappear from their hearts, we all know that. - She holds Branch’s hand, looking into his eyes. - But… How long can we pretend that they love us back? I’m not even sure if they have ever been happy. They’ve never known what happiness is.

Branch smiles gently at her.

- We’ve never let them be themselves - Milton whispers thoughtfully from his seat.

- It’s not that easy - Queen Barb says with a low voice. - Those are very strong powers.

- It would destroy them! - Smidge takes fright.

- Umm… Can I… - Suki lifts her hand shyly to say something. - I’ve already got an idea…

- Tell us - Peppy nods encouragingly.

- We can use music - She beams, smiling unsurely. - I noticed that the feelings I put into my song stay in their souls for so long. If… If you help me I can make music that will be giving them those things partly, stretching it in time.

- Maybe we should put it into an instrument? - Minuet, the goddess of instruments, suggests. - Poppy says there are six elements of Love. we can put them into separated strings.

- We can make a harp then - Laguna, the goddess of Analyze and Math, writes something in her notebook.

- That’s a lot of work - Gust notices. - We will need a lot of hands to help.

- I can help! - Cooper beams.

- And I!

- I’m in.

- Don’t start without me!

Poppy smiles widely, watching Immortals joining in one by one. All fears she had in her heart slowly fade away. She squeezes Branch’s hand, making him look at her.

- You were right - She admits, watching his smile grows wider. - But I’m still scared.

- Me too - He plants a loving kiss on her nose. - But we’re in this together and that’s all I need.

She giggles, adoring his sweet azure eyes. She sighs briefly and nods with a confident smile.

- We’re gonna do this.

***

They were making Strings almost for the whole year. Every single Immortal was concerned. Stacy, Essence, Coffee, Prince D, and Lownote Jones created the violet string of the Attachment. Minuet, Dante, and Trollazart worked on the yellow string of the Awareness. Trolex, Synth, and Laguna made the blue string of Emotionality. Queen Barb, Riff, Val, and Demo created the red string of Free Will. Gust, Holly, Smidge, and Delta Dawn made the orange string of Honesty. And Poppy and Branch were coordinating the work on the last, pink string. The string of Affection.

When everything is ready, Suki puts all the Strings on the beautiful gold harp created by Satin, Chenille, Guy Diamond, and Minuet. The time is ripe, they need only a delegation. Someone who will handle the Harp to troll. Most Immortals want it to be Poppy and Branch, but they reject it. In that case, everybody votes for their kids to be delegates. But the goddess and the god of Love still persist, that it would be unfair. Finally, they all decide that all six Immortal kids will handle the Strings.

The moment is huge. Everybody’s watching in tension us Peppy and Gust, the god of Order, gather all existing trolls in one place. Six kids present the Harp in front of trolls and then put it down for trolls to reach it. The creatures don’t know what to do at the first moment. They are staring at the beautiful instrument in misunderstanding amazement. The Silence passes for so long and Immortals are patiently waiting. Then, a little shy troll goes from the crowd and unsurely comes to the Harp. He reaches the first string, the yellow one, and touches it carefully.

And then he pulls it slightly and the soft sound of liberatory music peals in the world, freezing all the trolls.

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Index

[pastelsandpining]

Santa Tell Me (New Love)

The eighth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​, the prequel to prompt seven here

Prompt List

Words: 2419

Summary: Zelda finds a friend in the little forest boy who claims to be the Hero of Time. 

Ocarina of Time, post-game, child timeline(???)

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist

The Princess of Hyrule was bubbly and bright, and she felt like she could take on the world. She wanted so badly to go on a grand adventure, to escape the walls and locks of the castle and explore the kingdom she was set to rule over one day. How did she know what was best for her people if she never met them? But her father wouldn’t hear a word of it and Impa wouldn’t let her try. Little Zelda was forced to instead play by herself in the courtyard. She liked to pick up sticks and pretend to fight, and she liked throwing crushed up leaves and berries into a water filled hole to make potions. She liked to fall in the dirt and scrape her knees. 

She did not like practicing the ocarina.

“But you promised!” she whined, tugging at the arm of her caretaker. “You said you’d teach me how to be Sheikah!”

“I promised to teach you Sheikah ways,” Impa corrected as she stuck the little blue instrument into her hands. “But not today, little princess. You haven’t practiced in weeks, and you promised your father you would.”

Zelda huffed and gripped the tear-drop shaped piece of wood tighter. 

“But it’s so boring!”

“You’ll have to do many boring things in your life as queen,” Impa replied, ruffling the cap that covered her hair. Zelda scrunched up her nose and, defeated, brought the ocarina to her lips. It was drilled into her where her fingers should go as she played a set of scales to warm up. 

The three note melody her family named after her (or, rather, after Zelda in general) came naturally, and she played it twice before stealing a glance at Impa. She didn’t look satisfied, so Zelda huffed and turned around to face the window instead. There was her father, sitting on his throne while speaking with a man—a man she’d seen a few times before. He was tall, and his eyes seemed to glow with an evil that made her nervous. But her father wouldn’t listen to her when she tried to tell him that he scared her.

“How did you-“

A ruckus followed Impa’s unfinished question, so Zelda turned with furrowed eyebrows. Stood before her was a boy no older than her, dressed in green with a sword by his side. She stumbled a little backwards. He resembled the forest boy from her dreams a little too perfectly to be real. And yet something about him felt so familiar.

“Who..?” she started to ask, but the boy dropped to a kneel in front of her.

“Princess,” he greeted, his voice shaky and quiet. “I’m Link. I.. I’m the Hero of Time, I think.”

Zelda blinked. She’d never heard of such a thing, but he sounded too serious to be joking. But despite everything she’d felt within the past few weeks, she was unconvinced. 

“How can you be something without knowing it?” she asked, placing her hands on her waist. 

“You’ve gotta believe me!” the forest boy pleaded. “Ganondorf’s gonna get the Triforce and take over and destroy the world!”

So, the Hero of Time was here, as nothing more than a child, making the claim that her dreams would come to pass. As ridiculous as it probably sounded to Impa, it shook Zelda to her core. But her father didn’t believe her, much less a little kokiri boy. She was running out of ideas.

“Prove it,” she challenged, holding the ocarina out to him. “This is the Ocarina of Time, an heirloom of the royal family for generations. Play something only the Hero of Time would know!”

Link took the instrument from her hands and raised it to his lips. Zelda pulled at the sleeves of her dress in anticipation, shifting on her feet. What was she expecting him to play? Would he be able to play? If he could, how would it prove anything? 

Her lullaby was being played back to her.

“How..? You--you heard me playing it!” she accused, taking a step back. It was the only explanation, it had to be.

“You taught it to me! Right here! Don’t you remember?”

He looked so crestfallen and scared. He was as small as she, yet he spoke as if he’d seen war. If he really was who he said he was, then… he had. And he was there to warn them.

“Tell me everything,” Zelda demanded, holding her head a little higher. 

“Princess--”

Zelda looked over to Impa and whispered a soft “please”, then shifted her gaze back to the little kokiri boy. 

Link was hesitant, but he retold everything he could remember. He told her that she sent him to retrieve the spiritual stones, and he pulled the Master Sword, and that Ganondorf had followed him into the Temple and touched the Triforce, sealing him inside of the Sacred Realm. He told her how he woke seven years later to Hyrule in disrepair, with Ganondorf as the new king. He told of the temples and the destruction, and how he was forced to travel back and forth in time to undo all the King of Thieves had done. By the end of his story, Zelda was on the verge of tears. It was her plan that caused such a downfall--the very same plan she’d wanted to share with him as soon as he appeared before her.

“We have to tell my father,” she said, spinning to face Impa. “Please.”

Impa too was hesitant, but Zelda wiped at her tears and grabbed Link’s hand, pulling him towards the entrance to the castle herself.

“Princess-” Impa called again, but the little princess was determined. Ganondorf was leaving just as they entered, and she felt Link’s hand tighten around her own. But she couldn’t stop now. She had to make her father listen if there was any hope at all.

Just as she’d expected, her father was dismissive. He wanted to write it off as a childish nightmare, but Zelda forced Link to recount everything he’d just told her. The king remained unconvinced, but he looked a little bothered and she could work with that.

“Zelda, it is very immature to get this little boy in on your fantasies,” he scolded. “I cannot arrest the Gerudo king on the account of two children, not when we’re so close to mending the split caused by war.”

“But you heard his story! The Hero of Time said he fought Ganondorf himself!” Zelda argued, stomping her foot.

“Your little friend snuck onto the castle grounds unpermitted, so I would hardly deem him trustworthy. Unless he can prove that he is who he says he is, I will not take action.”

Link lifted the ocarina to his lips again and Zelda waited anxiously for the three note lullaby to hit her ears--but it never came. 

“I’ll pull the sword again,” Link declared, standing up as straight as he could. “I’ll travel to Gerudo Valley and find Nabooru--she’s a Sage and she could tell you everything Ganondorf has planned!”

“I will not send a child to that desert-”

“Then take me to the Temple of Time,” the hero challenged. 

The king looked hesitant once more. He scratched his beard as he looked between Link and his daughter, and Zelda tried to look as serious as she could manage.

“Link’s story is exactly what I saw in my dreams. You know daughters of the goddess can have pro.. prost-”

“Prophetic,” Impa supplied. Zelda nodded once.

“-prophetic dreams because you said mother had them too!”

“I cannot take you into the Temple of Time,” the king said, slumping back into the throne. “If you really are the Hero of Time, then there’s no telling what pulling the sword will do. But I will look into this. If I find nothing, then the two of you will be in very big trouble.”

Link didn’t look happy, but Zelda would take it. She was admittedly too scared to keep thinking about it, and any action her father took would be better than none.

“Promise?” she asked her father, stepping up to his throne and sticking out her pinky.

“I promise,” he replied, wrapping his larger finger around hers. He wiped at her cheeks after that, and Zelda leaned into the comfort of her father. She didn’t want to lose him too. 

Link was allowed full permission into the castle after all that had transpired. Zelda met up with him any chance she could get, and they would run around the courtyard together with sticks and matching bruises. His stories sounded far less scary when he acted them out before her, and Zelda often stole Impa’s headband and pretended to be a Sheikah named Sheik--just like the other Princess Zelda he spoke so highly about. 

Their courtyard playdate was interrupted when a figure passed by the window. The Gerudo king had arrived in chains, and Zelda grabbed Link’s arm and pulled him out of view.

“What’s going on?” he asked, but Zelda pressed a finger to her lips and snuck towards the entrance so they could hear what was happening. There was a lot of yelling, but she heard her father condemning him for plans of overthrowing the monarchy.

“--guilty of treason of the highest measure. For the crimes you have committed, you will be taken to Arbiter’s Grounds and executed.”

Zelda nearly tripped over Link as she stumbled backwards. The Gerudo king was being led their way. His eyes, burning with hatred, settled on her and Link, and he ripped himself free from the guards’ hold. Ganondorf reached for her with hands twice her size and she bit her tongue to keep from screaming. She tried to think of what Sheik would do, but she hardly got a chance before Link was in front of her, his kokiri sword pointed at the King of Thieves’ hands. Ganondorf laughed, a deep, evil sound that shook her to her core, and the guards took hold of him again, and he was dragged away, still laughing. 

Link turned around and wrapped her in a hug, and Zelda, still shaking, grabbed his shirt and closed her eyes. The yellow eyes of the Gerudo king would follow her into her nightmares, she was sure of it. 

In the following week, her father held a ceremony to acknowledge and thank all of those who saved Hyrule. 

Link and Nabooru, who’d acted as an inside source, were gifted with titles of honor and medals of service. Zelda too was awarded for her wisdom and insistence, but she didn’t think she deserved it as much as the other two. It was her fault Link had gone through all he had to begin with, and she didn’t think she could ever shake that feeling of guilt. But the party afterwards helped to lift her spirits, because her father told her she could have as many sweets as she wanted, and she could stay up as late as she wanted. 

“We did it!” Zelda cheered, once she’d found Link in the crowd. People were gawking at him and asking questions, but she threw her arms around him anyway and they landed in a pile on the floor, giggling like crazy. She could hear Impa in her head, scolding her about how improper and unladylike she was acting, but the princess didn’t care. A war had been avoided, and she made a good friend in the process. 

A friend who took her on adventures around Lake Hylia now that there was no threat, and protected her from any monster that tried to show its face. He took her to Lon Lon Ranch, where she met Malon and Epona and rode a horse of her own. He took her to Zora’s domain, where she met the little Zora princess who looked too interested in Link for her liking, and he took her to Goron City (under the supervision of Impa) to meet Darunia. 

But their time together was short lived, because their courtyard playdate took an awkward turn when Link held out a handful of colorful flowers and told her he had to go. He looked so sad, and she wished she could squeeze him tight until his sadness was gone.

“I lost a friend,” he explained, avoiding her gaze. “Every kokiri has a fairy, and I lost Navi when.. when I was sent back. I need to find her.”

She wanted to ask if he had to go. She wanted to beg him to stay here and find another fairy. But even as a selfish child, she could tell how much had been taken from him and she didn’t want him to hurt more than he already had. She would be a bad friend if she didn’t let him go.

“Will you come back?” she asked as she held the flowers tighter. 

“I’d never leave you behind,” he answered, giving her a shy little smile that made her cheeks burn.

“Do you promise?” she questioned, sticking out her pinky. 

“I promise,” he replied, wrapping his finger around hers. Zelda hesitated for a moment, but she leaned forwards and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“You better not break your promise, or I’m gonna be really mad at you,” she said as she pushed him away and looked at the ground.

“Just watch! When I come back, I’ll be your knight and we’ll get married,” he replied, wrapping her in a hug. Zelda giggled and held him tightly, because she wouldn’t be seeing him again for a very long time.

“You’re gross!” she declared, but the little princess liked the idea, even if she didn’t know the full story of what a marriage involved. They were too young for that anyway, but Impa told her later that love had no age and that souls that were meant to be together would find each other again in time. 

She didn’t know the word for what she was feeling when he left the courtyard for the last time. He looked back at her with a wave, but she couldn’t find it in her to raise her arms. They felt heavy and tired. She spent the first few months in naive hope, waiting in the courtyard and playing the ocarina as if her songs could bring him back. She held onto Impa’s words and onto the matching medals they had, and she came to question herself if she did indeed love the little boy from the forest. 

Perhaps when she saw him again, she would tell him properly.