#like why did i decide to do three bookshelves??

[mercworm]

Rosch and Candido in a couch, take two! ✨

[mystic-writings]

sneak out | jess mariano

PAIRING — jess mariano x fem!gilmore!reader SUMMARY — minutes into your mother’s dinner party, jess suggests you sneak out through your bedroom window - and you can’t help but agree WARNINGS — fluff, jess and reader being ‘troubled’ teens, a bit of angst, reader venting WORD COUNT — 2,322 NOTES — the idea of lorelai having a teen that was just like her is so appealing to me idk why - also would you believe me if i told you i listened to yung gravy while writing the majority of this fic

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You weren’t sure which was worse - the dinner your mother was hosting, or the idea that you now had to put up with a whole night of Luke’s strange nephew, whom you’d never met before.

Of course, you loved your family to pieces, and you loved Sookie and Jackson; hell, sometimes you looked at Luke as more of a father than you did your actual dad, but having everyone together for what you knew would be at least a three course meal, under one roof, with Luke’s mysterious nephew from New York, just felt draining.

So, to preserve what little social battery you had left for the day, you decided to spend the time between school and dinner in your room upstairs with a good book and a cd playing from the player that sat on your dresser at a low volume. You had to change the cd twice, first from one of your mothers Bangles cds to a Smiths one, but just as you were enjoying the beginning of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust album (and nearly finishing up your book), did you hear the clanging of pots and pans from downstairs, as well as Sookie and Jackson’s lighthearted bickering.

You managed to bury yourself back into your book, one leg crossed loosely over the other outstretched one as you half-sat, half-laid on your bed, being mindful of your shoes so as to not get any dirt on your covers.

From downstairs, Jess was wandering around the Gilmore home as everyone else did whatever they were doing in the kitchen, internally monologuing and half-mocking their decor. He’d met Rory already, and she seemed like a nice enough girl. Enjoyed books. But he had yet to meet the third and final Gilmore girl, who so far had only been mentioned. However, as Jess scanned the various photographs on the mantle, he could hear the faint guitar of Suffragette City emanating from somewhere upstairs.

After peeking down the hallway to make sure no one was watching, Jess smirked and snuck up the stairs, into what was surely off-limits territory for someone like him. Still, he took the stairs two at a time and stealthily, managing to avoid all the places that would creak in a house like this one, despite never stepping foot inside beforehand. He followed the music down the hall, past some more paintings and pictures, to another bedroom. The door was open, and he was able to take a look inside. Posters covered most of the wall, leaving little space to show off the paint beneath them. Bookshelves occupied the wall right beside the door, and similarly to Rory’s room, they looked stuffed to the brim with books.

On the bed, facing him, was the person he assumed to be the final Gilmore girl - Rory’s twin sister. He watched intently, scanning every feature of your focused face as you scanned the final pages of the book you were reading. How your brow furrowed, eyes locked on the ink before you. The way the foot that hung off the edge of the bed was moving to the beat of the song.

Once Jess had decided that he’d been watching you long enough to constitute stalking, and how that was probably extremely creepy, he nudged the door open with a creak and stepped inside, clearing his throat and pulling his lips into a slight smirk. “Hey there, Ziggy.”

At first, you thought that your mother was finally calling you down to dinner, until you heard the unusually male - and entirely unfamiliar - voice come from the body in your doorway. Tucking a receipt into your book to mark your place, you glared over at the boy standing in your room with his hands behind his back, smugness rolling off of him in waves as he admired your room.

“You’re Jess, aren’t you.” Your flat tone seemed to amuse him.

“How nice, you already know my name. I’m flattered.”

You watched him as he walked around your room, over to the window where your desk was, trying to figure him out as he peeled back your curtains. “It’s impossible to not know someone’s name in this town, even someone who’s only been here for 28 hours.”

He chuckled. “Nice one, Ziggy. Now tell me, why aren’t you downstairs with the rest of the freakshow? I mean, they are your family, after all, aren’t they?”

You pretended to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Sorry to break it to you, Mariano, but I’ve been banned from the freakshow. Apparently having apathy toward any sort of Gilmore humour is forbidden, and they’ve locked me away forever.”

“Aw, so sorry to hear that.” Jess mocked, placing a hand over his heart with an exaggerated pout. “I can’t believe they shunned such a ray of sunshine.” He smirked at your rolled eyes. “No, really, you must be a real treat at parties.”

“Quit it, Mariano. Is there a reason you came up here or did you just want to cause enough trouble to get kicked out of our beloved Stars Hollow? Because if so, you came to the right girl.”

Jess’ brow quirked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you heaved a dramatic sigh, slipping off your bed to walk over to Jess. “But it’s like… 9pm on a Wednesday. In Stars Hollow. Even if I wanted to cause trouble, and I don’t, because I did enough of that at school today, there’s nothing to do. Everyone’s asleep, and I’m pretty sure our 24-hour mini-mart closed like, half an hour ago.”

Now it was Jess’ turn to roll his eyes. “Your sister said that already. Is there seriously nothing to do here?”

“Nope.” You shrugged, just as a thought came to mind. “Well… there is one thing…” Jess’ eyebrows raised at the prospect of having something fun to do, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s not anything revolutionary, you know.”

“Still, give me something, anything, to get us out of here, Ziggy. I’m begging you. I’m being suffocated by the stale air of suburban life.”

You nodded, tapping your fingers on your thigh. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But you gotta do one thing for me.”

“What is it? I’ll do anything, I swear.”

“Stop calling me Ziggy.” You said. “It’s a stupid nickname, and although I admire the fact that you listen to David Bowie enough to come up with a nickname like that one, I hate it. Call me by my actual name.”

“Well I would, if I knew it.”

“My mother never told you my name?” You asked with a raised brow. “She never shuts up about me and Rory, I’m surprised you never caught it.”

“Apparently, I didn’t. It seems she likes talking about Rory more.” Jess shrugged. “At least, around me she does.” He barely caught the slight sag of your shoulders, the drop in your demeanour, before you picked it back up and smiled.

“Well, Jess. I’m Y/n. Y/n Gilmore.” After a pause, you looked around and snagged a sweater from the chair in the corner of your room. “Now, if you’ll follow me, let’s go have as much fun as we’re able to in Stars Hollow at night.”

Jess waited impatiently behind you as you unlatched the window by your desk and pushed it up, slipping through and holding it open for him. As he clamoured out, you grabbed the rock underneath the window and placed it on the windowsill, lowering the window so you’d still be able to get back in later.

You could still hear the tail end of the album playing as Jess looked around.

“How are we supposed to get down?”

“The trellis, obviously.” You said, carefully making your way across the porch’s roof to the trellis right next to the kitchen window. “Just don’t make much noise, this thing is right next to the kitchen’s window and if we get caught we’re screwed. Follow my lead, and run when you hit the ground, got it?”

“Got it.”

Scaling down the trellis was basically second nature to you, but you made sure to look up every once in a while to make sure Jess was doing okay. He seemed to be, which comforted you somehow. You waited at the bottom for him, making sure to stay out of view of the window to the kitchen and the edge of the porch, which were on either side of the trellis, and could possibly get both you and Jess grounded.

When he landed, he looked at you, and a dish clattered in the kitchen. You both snapped to the window, then back to each other. On instinct, you took his hand and ran toward the woods.

“Where the hell are we going?!” Jess whisper-shouted.

“Relax!” You whisper-shouted back, slowing to a stop as soon as you were hidden in the tree line. “We’re not going into the woods, dumbass. What do you think would’ve happened if we waltzed out in the open in front of the living room window?”

Jess only sighed and nodded, letting go of your hand. He let you lead him through the trees, keeping the light of the house close to you, walking around the garage and past all the cars, waiting until Babette’s house was out of sight until you stepped back onto the road.

The walk was calm and quiet, crickets and the breeze occupying you instead of chatter. After a while, when you were beginning to reach the town centre, Jess spoke up. “So, what now?”

You shrugged. “Not sure. Usually I head to the lake, bring a book, or a cd player and some headphones. I don’t normally bring people with me, you know?”

Jess nodded, lips slightly pursed. The walk continued through the town, passing by shop after shop, all of them closed for the night. You had to admit, you weren’t used to taking walks like these, out in the open. Normally you’d find whichever path kept you out of the possible sight of the townspeople, a habit you developed after Taylor snitched on you to your mother after he caught you walking to the lake by the Inn when you were 12. Still, it was nice, and even if you were caught, you somehow didn’t seem to mind it.

As the buildings were fading again and you knew you were approaching the lake, you checked your watch. 9:27pm. You sighed, and Jess looked at you. Dropping your arm, you shook your head. “Almost 9:30. They definitely have to know something’s up at home. Probably sending out a search party by now.” You told him, before shrugging. “Or, you know, miraculously, they forgot we existed and are eating Sookie’s delicious no-allergen, fourteen course meal as we speak.”

Jess scoffed. “Yeah, right. Luke might not care that much, but Lorelai? She seems like the world’s most protective parent.”

“She is.” You confirmed, sitting on your usual bench, eyes following Jess as he sat next to you. “Trust me, I love her to death, but it gets annoying sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, at least you have a protective mom.” Jess’ hands gripped the edge of the bench, his body hunched forward, making him look small, ready to run at a moment’s notice. “Mine decided I wasn’t worth the effort. Shipped me off to this… circus show without so much as a ‘sayonara, kid.’ You’re lucky.”

You frowned. Everyone knew within the hour of him arriving in Stars Hollow that Jess was a troubled kid, but even troubled kids deserved parents that cared. He was right, though, you were lucky. It just didn’t feel like it.

“I know I’m lucky, Jess, but it’s not all rainbows for me, you know.”

“Oh yeah? How?” He scoffed. “You have the perfect life, Y/n. A mom that cares, a great twin sister - hell, even Luke sings your praises.”

“Luke sings?”

Jess rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s not like that all the time, Jess.” You sighed. “My ‘great’ twin sister is, apparently, so great that she has all eyes on her at all times. My grandparents are always so proud of her for being so smart and planning this amazing, expensive, studious future - they’re planning on funding it, too, from the sounds of things. I just want to live, you know?” You kicked a rock with your shoe, avoiding Jess’ concerned gaze.

“And my mother seems more concerned about her wellbeing than mine, closer to her than to me. But somehow she wonders why I’m the troubled one. I mean, I act out, I barely go to that stupid prep school because it’s so suffocating, and I got an eyebrow piercing without permission instead of taking a calculus test last month, which I’m just getting out of that punishment. Everyone’s so focused on Rory and how seemingly great she is, I don’t even remember the last time I was appreciated for anything. And don’t even get me started on my dad.”

“Sounds like these freaks don’t know a good person when they see one.” Jess told you. “You seem chill. Adventurous, too. But just because you aren’t appreciated doesn’t mean you aren’t good enough.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “You too, Jess.” The world quieted around you for a moment, stars shining off the rippling waters of the lake. “But we don’t need to be good enough for them. Just good enough for us.”

He smiled, nodding once at you. Again, you appreciated the silence with him, watching the water or the sky. It wouldn’t be long until Luke and your mother found you both, you with your head on his shoulder and one knee bent to your chest, laughing quietly at a joke he told as you continued to get to know one another. But that was later. For now, you simply sat and watched the water, wishing the moment could last for the rest of your lives.

permanent taglist: @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @queen-asteria04 @heliads

jess mariano taglist: open!

taglist form is in my navigation!

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Morning! So this week is ace week (I’ve been told. Not sure)

Could I please ask for nico’s cool laidback and flirty older brother coming out to Nico as ace please? 👉🏼👈🏼

And he’s kinda worried Nico will take it the wrong way? Especially since he was like mico’s “gay flirty cool idol” and he fears telling him he’s ace will disappoint Nico?

Thanks and, obviously, no pressure!

Love your content 🫶

Happy ace week!

heya.... long time no see?

So this may have been requested back in October and I've only just written it up now but, oh well, I really like how this has turned out and I've actually finished three one shots in the last few days so maybe I'm on a roll or smthn, idk. And just a reminder [cause everyone seems to be venting thru these fics lol] that I'm always here to chat <3

soggy socks and femur bones--- Nico di Angelo & asexual big brother!reader »»————-　★　————-««

Nico trudged up the stairs and glared at the closed cabin door.

He took a breath, and then slammed it open, kicking off his muddy boots because Will had decided that of course having a picnic in the middle of the forest after a storm was an intelligent plan.

Water formed a puddle by his soggy socks when he wrung out his jacket and wiped his hands on his pants with a huff. 

Hazel’s witchcraft candles everyone was silently hoping and pleading to their godly parents weren’t for another curse, burned on the coffin-shaped bookshelves. At least they smelt like vanilla. “Yo, uh… what’s with all the…”

Nico whipped around and eyed you through his wet, stuck-together eyelashes. “Will planned the date this time.”

“…And?” You grinned, sitting forwards and closing the lid of your secret [it wasn’t really a secret at this point] laptop. There was a bag of chocolates on your lap as well. And you were dry. 

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“How did it go? Did you kiss? Do I have to dig his grave? I mean I will,” you said with a shrug, and then winced. “But I need someone to keep giving me painkillers… It’s not my fault Austin did a shit job at ripping my molars out.”

“He was fine. You just refuse to stop eating salt and vinegar chips,” Nico argued, and glanced at empty packets in the bin by your bed. 

You shook your head stubbornly. “No, no my gums are infected cause Au-”

“It was fine!” Nico shrieked, and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. He slammed it too far though, and it bounced back open on its hinges. He glared at the heart-shaped mirror someone had written ‘love yourself babes’ on. Three guesses who. 

“…So… did you kiss?”

Nico glared at the mirror harder. The long scratches across his face had faded. Now they were just a few shades darker than his olive skin. “Why would I tell you?”

“Uh, cause I’m your gay icon,” you scoffed, and he heard the sound of chocolate wrappers crinkling. “Who else would you talk to about this?”

Nico uncapped the mango-flavored toothpaste [Hazel had discovered artificial flavors and was going to be buried with them] and squeezed some onto his toothbrush. At least half of the bristles had fallen out. Probably because of the fact children of Hades, or Pluto, had sharper than necessary canines. Something to do with vampires.  

He shrugged. “Jason.”

“Okay that hurt,” you said. You were quiet for a moment. “And, uh… about the whole…”

He rolled his eyes and brushed his teeth, orange foam dripping down his chin as he spoke. “We kissed. Shut up.”

“… I will definitely be teasing you about that later, remind me too, but that… wasn’t really what I meant,” you said. From what Nico could tell, you sounded nervous. Like, genuinely. That was odd. 

Nico narrowed his eyes. 

“I just, I kinda wanted to tell you something.”

He spat out the fruit toothpaste and rinsed his mouth out with the black and white retro Addams family mug you had ordered online when you saw it, because ‘what else is pocket money for?’. “…Well?”

You tapped your nails on your laptop, probably chipping the polish your aphrodite friends had done on sleepover night. Nico usually spent that night hiding in Bunker 9 while Leo built his latest bomb. Or a Monster-proof phone. Or both. “You aren’t very good at this, are you?”

“Jason hasn’t got to the emotional conversations bit of teaching me how to be a human yet. We’re still at the how to flirt with Will part. Apparently, I’m not very good at it.” Nico said.

“That I can believe.” You muttered. “Anyway, what I was gonna say is… well it’s actually been ages but I sorta didn’t wanna tell you cause then maybe you wouldn’t feel like you could relate to me as much and I really like it when we eat icecream and cry together.”

Nico frowned. “I haven’t cried in three years.”

“…Okay, that’s a problem.” You said. Your voice cracked.

“You just walk up to me and start sobbing and then I feed you Ben and Jerry’s to shut you up.” Nico said, leaving the bathroom and throwing his drenched clothes over the portable heater in the corner, by the snake’s tank. Dracula was a yellow python that everyone stuck banana stickers to on a daily basis. 

You threw your hands up in the air. “See! It’s already happening and I haven’t even told you yet!”

Nico scrunched up his nose and put some of Dracula’s food into the tank. Meaning, a dead rat. “Told me what?”

“That I’m Ace!”

He stared at Dracula.

“Like, like Asexual, you know,” you said quietly, and chuckled. You did sound nervous. “I taught you about that one, didn’t I?”

Nico shrugged. Every sexuality and gender ever discovered. It had been a very long lesson. But he had got to watch Good Omens. And some lesbian Bollywood movies too, with awesome soundtracks. “Yeah.”

You kept tapping your fingers on your laptop.“…You’re not reacting that much.”

“Would you prefer it if I started crying?”

“Yes, actually. How have you not cried in three years? We need to do something about that.” You said, very obviously trying to change the subject. 

Nico sat down on the puffy duvet next to you.

“I’m not going to cry…” Nico said, looking away at the posters Hazel had pinned to her wall with throwing knives made of femur bones. He ducked his head. “And… I’m not gonna, like, not want to hang out with you anymore… You’re still, like, my favorite brother, or whatever.”

You whipped around, eyes wide. Your eyeliner was smudged. “Aw!”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Nico screeched, and dodged the hug.

You managed to wrestle him into a hug despite his clawing and shrieking, and rolled around with him in the mound of teddies and chocolates. “You love me!”

“I will bite you.”

»»————-　★　————-««

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - The Handyman 18+

It's the outfit 🙈 it's giving DIY Ruben.

Summary - Readers apartment needs fixing and Ruben "The Handyman " comes to her rescue.

Enjoy!

It took you three days to put up the shower curtains in your bathroom. You guessed that putting up a small bookshelves should take you twice the amount of time. What did you know about putting up shelvs anyway?

The town that you lived in had a small hardware shop across from the café where you worked. You had never been in there before so showing up at 6 o'clock on a Tuesday night was a bit inconvinient.

"Hey."

A bell rang as you pushed the door open. The guy who stood behind the front counter was too busy tinkering away with scrap metal to catch your eye, so you shrugged your shoulders and continued down one of the aisles.

Tools and bolts hung on every wall. You bet your ex boyfriend knew all of terms for them as he usually was hostile enough to brag about what a handyman he was. Perhaps he was the reason why you were so stubborn about getting this bookshelf up as soon possible. You subconsciously wanted to show your ex that you were handy too.

"What do I need, what do I need?" You mumbled, having already collected a few things in your shopping basket. Mostly nuts and tape rolls. You had a screwdriver at home, so no need for a new one. A first aid kit would be a good investment, you thought. After all, this would be your first time putting up a shelf on your own.

"Do you need help?"

A giant shadow was casted around you as you stood facing a wall of hammers. Turning around you found yourself face to face with the guy from behind the counter. He had dark eyes that looked at you attentive and a scruffy beard that covered most of his face. His hair was more fluffy than scruffy and the same color as his eyes, dark, but not black.

"Um...no. Thank you. I was just..." You pointed to the basket in your arm. "...I was just collecting a few things."

His gaze shifted between your face to the basket in your arm. It took him long enough to give you any sign of a smile, you thought.

"I'll be up front if you need me." He said, pointing over his shoulder.

"Right, thanks."

He was strange, but undeniably handsome. He smelled good too, like mens aftershave with a dash of cinnamon.

You continued wandering up and down the aisle, not really sure what you were looking for. What did one need to put a piece of wood to a wall?

"Are you sure that you don't need my help with anything?"

It was they guy from the front desk again, casting a giant shadow as he stood hovering over you. He looked agitated that you were still in his shop, unsure of what to purchase.

"I'm sorry." You chuckled. "I'm putting up a bookshelf and I have a hard time deciding..."

"A bookshelf?" He said, peering into your shopping basket with a skeptical look on his face.

"Yes, a bookshelf." You frowned.

He shook his head. "Why the tape rolls?"

"Oh, that..." You looked into your basket, unsure why you suddenly felt embarrassed. "Everyone needs tape right?" You shrugged.

"Not to put up a bookshelf." He snorted.

You looked to the named tag pinned to his flanel jacket, Ruben, it said.

"Well, what do you know?" You hissed.

He raised a brow. "Well I know that my shop closes at seven. You've got five minutes to find whatever you're looking for and get out of here."

You gapsed. "That's not a nice way to talk to a costumer."

"Thank god you're not a costumer then." He smirked. "Costumers actually buy things."

"Okay, fine!" You shouted, stopping him from turning his back on you. "The truth is that I don't know the first thing about putting up shelves."

"No shit." He chuckled, but crossed his arms in front of him as to say that you had his attention.

"I just moved here. Usually my ex boyfriend handled these kind of DIY stuff but I'll be damn to call him and say I couldn't handle a month without him, let alone put up a bookshelves on my own. So if you please see the desperation I am coming to you with, you'll help me figure how to do this."

The guy, Ruben, stood quietly, observing you with furrowed brows.

"What?" You asked. The staring got to a point where it made unwanted heat rise to your face.

He sighed. "Give me a minute to close down the shop. "

"Your closing?"

He returned to the counter flickig off the lights on the go. "I'll get my toolbox and meet you around back."

"Um...okay. Meet me around back to do what exactly?"

"Well, you needed my help putting up a shelf didn't you?"

He went to get his toolbox and ten minutes later you were in his truck, making it's way to your apartment.

"Excuse the mess." You said, showing him how to maneuver around the moving boxes still scattered all over your apartment.

Ruben didn't seem to mind the mess though, perhaps he's worked constructions before.

"Here is the shelf and this is the wall I want it up on."

It was just a pile wood beneath an empty wall in your bedroom. You had gotten as far as to unbox the model and read the instructions, but you gave up after that.

"You said you had a screwdriver?" He said.

"Oh yes, I'll go get it."

You went to fetch the screwdriver. When you returned Ruben sat crotch down on the floor, reading the manual that came with the bookshelf. He had removed his flanel jacket, tossing it on your bed. He wore a white t-shirt underneath, a shirt that revealed his lean body and swollen biceps.

"Do you know how to turn it on?"

"Huh?"

Your eyes diverged from his arms back to his face. Ruben was watching you where you stood in the doorframe.

"The screwdriver? Do you know how to turn it on and use it?" He said.

"No." You shook your head and handed it to him. "Go nuts."

A smile carved his cheeks. "Sure, I'll go nuts."

What would have taking you three days to achieve Ruben did in fifteen minutes. The shelf was put up on the wall and topped up with books in no time.

"I have no words." You said as the two of you stood back, inspecting the way the shelf sat up on the wall.

"It's a nice shelf." He nodded.

"Thank you Ruben, I don't know what I would have done without you."

He stared at you with furrowed brows.

"What?"

"How did you know that my name was Ruben?"

"Oh." You pointed to his chest, where his name tag would be if he was still wearing the flanel jacket. "It said so on your name tag."

He nodded and went to gather his tools back into his box. You thought about giving him the screwdriver as a payment for his services, but perhaps you would need it later.

"You're welcome then Y/N." With the toolbox in the other, Ruben stretched out a hand for you to shake.

You frowned. "How did you know my name?"

"Oh I..." He scratched the back of his head. "You wear a name tag too, don't you?"

"I do?"

"Or I've seen you do at the café."

"Oh." You nodded. It was just across the street from the hardwear shop. He must be in there for a coffee every day, most people in town were. How come you hadn't noticed him before, you thought.

"I usually grab my coffee to go." He said. "And I usually come just before lunch when there is a line."

You nodded understandingly. "It can get pretty busy."

"But you seem to handle it quite well tho." He said, his eyes a bit hesitant to meet yours.

"I do?"

He shrugged. "You always have time to smile at your costumers, say  goodmorning and wish them a nice day."

"It just standard costumer service." You said flustered, praying that the heat in your face didn't show.

His smile was subtle but there. "This ex boyfriend of yours, is he from here?"

"No actually, I just moved here a month a go. I don't really knowing anyone here."

"Welp, now you know me." He said, shutting his toolbox.

"Now I know you."

Ruben led the way around your apartment back to the front door. He paused however,  at the sight of the mess in your living room.

"Is that supposed to be your dining table?"

"Suppose to be, is definitely the right word for it."

Ruben didn't hesitate to crouch down on the floor again, setting down his toolbox.

"Ruben you don't have to."

"I want to." He objected.

You were glad that he did because twenty minutes later you had gotten self a brand new dining table.

"Is there anything else that needs fixing?"

"Besides my pride?" You chuckled. "I don't think so. But thank you Ruben."

He looked at you with those eyes again, smiling at you without having to move a muscle.

You blushed without hiding it this time. There was no point in trying because Ruben was standing close enough to reach out and touch you, suprising you that he did just that.

"Y/N."

His hand wrapped around your arm, tugging at it slightly. The veins in his arms throbbed with the grip he had around you, pulling you forwards, towards him.

"Yes?"

There wasn't much to say before his lips crashed into yours. You had sensed the sparks between even back at the hardware shop. Ruben back you up against the newly built dining table, lifting you to sit on it with your legs spread before him. His hand grab your face, tilting it upwards as he kissed your lips. It was hot, so hot. You tugged at the sides of his flanel jacket, wanting it come off. He chuckled against your mouth before stepping away to throw it off his shoulders.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, better be safe than sorry.

He pulled the rubber out of his back pocket, however, not ready to use it just yet. He returned to stand between your legs, pulling your face against his for another wet kiss.

"You're so fucking sexy." He groaned.

You gasped as his lips moved on to your neck where he licked and sucked you skin to the point of your eyes rolling back in your head.

"Ruben." You said, words airy.

"Yes?"

"Fuck me."

With one swift motion he pulled your shirt over your head. His hand went to your throat, guiding you down to lay with your back against dining table. You arched with the cold sensation from the wood. Rubens snaked a hand underneath for your back to stay arched. He unclipped your bra and ripped the rest of the fabric from your chest, exposing your errect breast.

"Ruben please." You couldn't take it anymore. His erection pressed against your thighs and all you wanted was for him to be inside you.

"Be patient baby."

"No, please. Fuck me now."

It had been a while and just by his touch you could tell that Ruben was much better at sex than your ex boyfriend ever was.

"So eager. " Ruben chuckled. His hand traveled down to your jeans, teasing you by pulling down the zipper.

"Fuck." You whimperd, when he slid his hand down your panties, finding your soft folds, massaging your clit.

"Yes, Ruben please." You were, close, so close.

"No." You whimperd, feeling his hand pull out of your jeans. You tried to sit up but Rubens hand on your stomach kept you down, pressed to the dining table.

"Together." Ruben whispered, his thumb stroking your bottom lip.

You grabbed a bundle of his shirt pulling him down to have his weight over you. His arms cradled your face as he kissed you open mouthed. Finally you felt him fiddle with his belt, loosen it up before pulling himself out of his pants, all this whilst his lips were still attached to yours. He backed away for a moment but only to tugg at your jeans, helping you remove them. Your naked legs were spread before him as you watched him bite the corner off the condom packaging, dressing hick cock with the rubber. You bit your lip as he approached you with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Don't move." He commanded, a firm grip around your throat, pinning you back against the table. He adjusted himself between you, lifting up your leg to make the entery smoother for you.

"Fuck." You still weezed, eyes squinted. Ruben was big, perhaps too big.

"You okay?"

You nodded, "Please harder."

He didn't listen to you but continued to press himself further into you, slow enough for you to adjust to his size. The thrusts came in waves. Slowly at first but then with a crashing force, rattling the wood beneath you.

"Don't break the table." You gasped.

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll build you a new one." He upped the pace, filling you up with each thrust. It was over when he lifted you thigh to rest on his shoulder. Two pumps and that was it. You moaned his name for everyone to hear, coming down from the release with a pounding heart in your chest.

"Ruben?" You whispered.

He had come shortly after you, relaxing his body to rest on top of you.

"Ruben?"

You ran your hands through his now damped hair, releasing each knot with your fingers.

"Yes?" He mumbled, somewhere beneath you. He was still inside you, his dick twitching against your glistering folds.

"I have a lamp..." You said, no need to say more.

Ruben raised his head to look at you.

You smiled.

He nodded. "Alright, I'll be back tomorrow."

[teatoptony]

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 - p.j

summary; percy comforts you after finding you on the fire escape.

pairing; percy jackson x neighbor!demigod!reader

word count; 4.6k

warning(s); themes of abusive relationships. do not interact if this is a trigger for you, and please, reach out if you need help and are able. the world is full of people who can help, even if it's just little things like consolation.

a/n; sorry this took so long!! english isn’t my first language, so there might be a couple errors. feedback is always appreciated :) // takes place between the fourth and fifth book of pjo

request(s); HI HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY/NIGHT CAN I PLEASSSSEEEEEE GET PERCY X READER "58/ "Who did this to you?"" WITH PROTECTIVE PERCY I WILL CRY!!!

Hello! Can I please request Percy Jackson x reader with prompt #58: “Who did this to you?” Thank you!

Every time Percy made his way back home after Camp, he expected all sorts of monsters to come pounding at the door. He was the son of Poseidon, after all—the more powerful a demigod was, the easier they were to smell out.

And they kind of did; dracaenae in the grocery store, pit scorpions in the gym and pretty much everywhere else. He even saw a cyclops from his bedroom window once, lumbering pretty dam close to the apartment before shaking his head, seemingly confused, and wandering off. Well, that was strange.

Percy had tried to think of anything that could have thrown the cyclops off his trail. Maybe he smelled another half-blood somewhere, or maybe he just didn't feel like having son-of-the-sea-god fillet for dinner. None of those seemed likely.

Or maybe the cyclops just lost the trail, simple as that. But in Percy’s opinion, that was even less likely than the other two options. Being a son of one of the Big Three gods, Percy was pretty much a beacon for monsters everywhere, which was why he was always hesitant when coming home after camp. He didn't want to put his mom in danger because of him (and Paul Blowfish was really nice, too).

The only way to get rid of his smell, as far as he knew, was by covering it with a stench so foul that it got masked, making Percy smell like just a rather horrid mortal to monsters. Yeah, his mom got an apartment in a shady neighborhood to sort of do just that, but a shady neighborhood wasn't nearly enough to confuse a monster like a cyclops. He needed Smelly Gabe levels of stink, at the very least.

Another reason Percy thought the whole shady neighborhood plan wasn’t what had thrown that cyclops for a loop was because of you.

Now don't get him wrong, he liked having you around. A little too much, even, which he was embarrassed to admit. You were one of the first and best friends he'd made at camp, and you had a personality that could brighten anyone's day. But two demigods living in the same building? Going to the same school, no less? That had to be a recipe in some sort of demon cook book somewhere, just imagine—'easiest-ever cheesecake with half-blood garnish: start by catching two half-bloods, preferably from the same building to keep them fresh...'

Strangely enough, though, nothing ever seemed to get near him when he was with you. No dracaenae disguised as pregnant ladies in the store, no pit scorpions crawling out from between the bookshelves in the library. Not once while hanging out with you did a monster decide to stop by for a quick snack, which was a pretty big deal considering he never left your side if he could help it. He never understood why that was.

Until tonight.

Percy never slept well at home. Sure, it was great to be there, but this wasn’t like Camp, where a magic barrier kept anything dangerous from getting in. This was a regular mortal apartment, where a Laistrygonian giant could easily lob a giant ball of fire at if he had a half-decent aim. He lay awake most nights, which was pretty frustrating since he couldn’t use a phone or something to distract himself, and trying to read just made the words float off the page. So, naturally, he used the sound that flooded through his bedroom window as a sort of white noise to help him fall asleep.

Tonight was especially difficult. He was up way past the point where his body usually started to give in to the drowsiness, and it was really pissing him off. Every time he shut his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep, they just opened again a minute or two later, feeling a lot drier.

Suddenly, he heard someone open then slam their window shut a few floors up. Someone slipped onto the fire escape and started climbing down. Who in Hades would be out there at this hour?

The footsteps stopped almost as soon as they started, and nothing but the usual busy murmur of the Manhattan night continued once again. How long had passed? Ten minutes? Twenty? Percy realized he hadn’t heard another window open or close. And the footsteps never passed by his window, so Percy figured whoever was out there was maybe two or three stories up from his floor – somewhere near yours – and decided to go check, grabbing Riptide in its pen form off his bedside table.

If it was just some mortal who’d decided to hang out up there, that’s fine and all. He might have to scare them off if they were too close to your window, but no one would be in actual danger. If it was a monster trying to sneak up on him, or you, for that matter, he would take care of it and come back inside. He didn’t have anything better to do, anyway. He slowly opened his window and slipped outside, being as quiet as he possibly could considering the fire escape was practically ancient.

What he found when he climbed up, however, wasn’t some rando or a monster. It was you. And while normally the sight of you would fill his stomach with butterflies so strong they practically made his skin tingle, what he saw now made his heart drop umpteen stories to the Underworld.

You were wearing your pajamas, which any sensible person would say were much too cold for the season. It was nearing winter a lot more than autumn now, and the temperature was low enough that he could see your shaky breaths. Even so, you still sat out there in nothing but a paper-thin long sleeved shirt and some sweats, hugging your knees to your chest as to either bring yourself some comfort or warmth. Probably both. Your whole body was shaking pretty hard, and Percy didn’t need to see your face to know that you were crying.

He put Riptide into his pocket and shuffled his feet a little as he got closer to you, deliberately making his presence known so he wouldn't startle you when he sat down next to you. Quickly wiping your hand across your face, you tried to clean any trace of tears as you looked up to see who was there.

“Hey, Perce,” you said, smiling at him the way you always did. Your voice would’ve sounded normal if it wasn’t so raw. The way you tried to act as though nothing was wrong made Percy want to punch something. Or someone. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the amount of sheer anger he felt. The silence was deafening as he tried to calm himself down.

“Who did this to you?” He finally asked, his voice shaking. Whether it was from anger, or the sheer amount of willpower he had to conjure to stop himself from beating whoever was the cause of this senseless, he didn’t really know. Your smile wavered a bit.

“What d’you mean?” You replied, trying your best to look confused and oblivious. If he hadn’t caught you actually crying, he was sure he would have bought it. “No one did anything to me, Percy. I’m perfectly fine. Just peachy. All that stuff.”

“Y/N, you’re crying on the fire escape in the middle of the night. I’m not that stupid.” Percy sighed, frustrated. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, it was his job to make sure no one stepped out of line around you, the way you did for him. Like how you gave anyone who tried to talk bad about him a glare so intense they would immediately shut up and run in the opposite direction. “Who did this to you?”

You stayed still for a minute, seemingly weighing your options. On the one hand, you could play dumb and go back home, the way you always did when someone asked what was wrong. You really didn’t want Percy to see you like this. On the other, he already has, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

Besides, the thought of going back to your own apartment made your blood run cold. You ran your hands up and down your arms as chills made their way along your spine.

“My boyfriend,” you finally muttered out, looking away from Percy as you spoke. “He usually stays over since my place is always empty. Practically lives there. We had a big fight about… you, actually. He said you were bad news and told me to stay away from you. I told him you were a good person who just got caught up in some pretty bad situations sometimes. He made a few accusations. Told me—”

You choked on your words. Percy put a hand over your shoulders, a bit hesitant as he wasn’t sure if you wanted him close by right now. After all, he was part of the reason you were out here in the first place. He breathed a little sigh of relief as you leaned into his touch, pressing yourself against his side as he pulled you close.

“He told me I followed you around like a puppy anyway, so to be a good little dog and run home to my master. I didn’t see a point in arguing with him, so I told him that maybe I would. He, um, didn’t like that too much.”

You let out a shaky sigh. Now that you recounted what had happened, it didn’t seem like much of a step up from what your boyfriend usually did. He never liked it when you made friends, so why did him trying to separate you from Percy feel so much more personal than all the other times he told you to cut yourself off?

While you were contemplating the reason for it, Percy was plotting a murder.

He was pretty sure Rachel had a step-by-step guide on it somewhere. But then again, why read a book when one of his other best friends was literally the daughter of the goddess of strategy? And Clarisse.. well, as much as they didn't get along, he was pretty sure she liked you more than most of the other campers, enough to threaten to pulverize anyone who hurt you with the full intent of following it through.

First things first, Seaweed Brain, Anabeth’s voice said in his head (it did that from time to time; Percy assumed he didn't really have his own voice of logic, so his brain borrowed it from the smartest person he knew). She's freezing.

“Right,” he muttered, giving your shoulders a little squeeze. You flinched. First things first, he mentally repeated, and pulled the both of you off of the cold metal platform with an apologetic look. “Let’s get you back to my place, yeah? Get you warmed up.”

You nodded and started to follow him down the stairs. Your legs were unsteady from being folded for too long in the cold, and you stumbled on the first few steps. After the first flight, Percy stopped in his tracks and looked at you for a moment, deciding whether or not carrying you was a bit too much considering there was only a floor or two left to his window. Then he decided that he didn’t care if it was and scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style.

To his surprise, you didn’t protest. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, the act making his face go warm. If someone were to see him right now, he was sure the mix of anger and butterflies would have made his face look the color of canned tomato soup.

Once he reached his floor, he put you down and climbed in first, offering you a hand once he was inside. You smiled to yourself as little butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, but they soon vanished and left you with a sinking feeling that quickly spread everywhere. He was just being a good friend. He doesn’t like you in that way. You have a boyfriend, you shouldn’t be thinking like this–

Percy sat you down on his bed, rummaging through his clean clothes to find something useful. Most of his clothes were really worn out, so it wasn’t much of an easy task. Then his fingers brushed against something soft, and he pulled it out to examine; it was a blue polyester sweater his mom had bought around the end of last winter. He’d worn it a lot over the last few months, but it had been washed more recently than most of his other winter clothes.

“Put this on.” He threw it across the room at you. You caught it and did as you were told, pulling it over your shirt. The scent of ocean breeze fabric detergent and a hint of sea salt washed over you. Percy took a seat beside you on the bed, his gaze boring into you as you tried your best to ignore what had just happened. A second ago, being upset had felt justifiable. Now you were just embarrassed to have been caught.

Again, that wasn’t any worse than what he did every other day. Why did it bug you so much?

“So, you don’t naturally smell like ocean breeze, huh?” You commented, trying to lighten the mood. Or maybe distract him from what he’d just seen. Hey, why not both? “A shame, really. You’d be useful in the Hermes cabin—can’t get cleaned up for inspection most of the time, so smelling nice would definitely be an improvement.”

Percy ran his hand through his hair, his frustration starting to get the better of him. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” He asked. When you didn’t answer, he gently put his hands on either side of your face, making you look at him. Finally, you sighed.

“It’s not usually this bad,” you offered, giving him a small smile. “He never means what he says—or what he does, for that matter. He just gets a little carried away when he’s worried. He’ll apologize in the morning, I’m sure. Always does.”

Usually?

Never?

Always?

This had been going on for a lot longer than Percy had imagined. How could he have let this happen? Was he so dense as to notice the signs? He’d met the guy, for fuck’s sake. He realized now that you weren’t flustered or anything like that whenever your boyfriend dragged you away from him all those times. You were dreading what would happen once no one else was around.

“This isn’t okay, Y/N,” he muttered, moving his hands to hold yours instead. His thumbs traced little patterns on your skin, and you could swear it sent little electric shocks up along your nervous system.

“He’s the best I can hope to get…” You replied, a bitter smile on your face. He told you so all the time. Your best friend got a funny look on his face, something you could only describe as ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ That look then faded into anger, then sadness, then anger again. His expression alternated between the two as he took a breath, then said,

“Tell me everything.”

You were almost certain he almost said something else, but you figured it wasn’t too important. If it was, it would come up again, eventually.

You bit your lip. You didn’t really like telling anyone about your relationship. But then again, this was Percy. He would understand, wouldn’t he?

Percy’s gaze softened as he noticed how hesitant you were. “Please? Promise I won’t judge.” He added.

Oh, come on, that voice was cheating. How could you say no?

So, you started from the top.

From the beginning of your relationship, every time you made some minor mistake, your boyfriend would swoop in and clean up the mess as a ‘favor’. Even if you knew for a fact you could set things straight on your own or didn’t want his help, he was always there to act like it was this huge deal. He would tell you that you were a hot mess, and that no one else but him would ever want to keep you around. He only put up with you because he loved you. And after a couple months, you started to believe him.

Later on, he used those favors against you to guilt you into doing things you didn't really want to do. It started with little things, like getting you to wear what he wanted all the time.

“C’mon babe, remember when I did that thing for you? Just think of it as a little thank you. You can do that for me, right?”

To quote your boyfriend, you were to wear ‘nothing too long, but nothing too skimpy, either’. You weren't allowed to take your coat off in public if you wore a dress that went above your knees, or if your top showed off a little more than what he deemed necessary. You used to joke that you felt like you were dating a high school teacher, but what little humor you managed to find in the situation gradually disappeared as your entire wardrobe was stripped of your own personality and taste.

He became more demanding over time, doing things like taking you out to party with people you barely knew in clothes that made you feel downright uncomfortable, letting his friends ‘borrow’ you if they needed arm candy for a family dinner or something to get their folks off their asses, etcetera. You’d very nearly avoided giving him your first night on his fifteenth birthday—however mad he got, that was the one thing he couldn't guilt out of you.

That was the first time he’d hit you.

“He apologized afterwards,” you quickly added, feeling Percy’s grip tighten. The two of you were now sat facing each other on the bed, shoes kicked off on the floor and legs crossed, with not much space in between except for your intertwined hands. “Like I said, he always does. He was as surprised as me when he did it, and we avoided each other for a week before he came back with a written apology. He told me he wouldn’t go further than anything PG-13 if I wasn’t okay with it.”

He nodded, but you could see his eyes getting darker with each word, their usual sea green color changing until it had more of a stormy blue tone.

Wait a minute, why were you defending the boy who hit you, again?

You continued to tell him how your boyfriend was really insecure, though he tried to hide it in public. You did your best to try to help him, reassure him that he didn’t have anything to be insecure about, but he was almost impossible.

He didn’t like it when you had friends who weren’t also his friends, or when you hung out with anyone else more than him—which, considering he went to a different school than you, meant you weren’t allowed to interact with people much other than the basic stuff. You always distanced yourself from everyone to appease him. So, seeing how much the two of you were around each other, Percy wasn’t exactly popular with your boyfriend.

He murmured passive-aggressive comments whenever he saw you with him, never directly accusing you of doing anything with him but making the questions abundantly clear. He had tried on several different occasions to get you to push him away, and every time you refused, he just got a lot more persistent.

He picked out all the times Percy had supposedly gotten you into trouble, blissfully ignorant about the world of live-action D&D that practically required you to be in danger ninety-nine percent of the time. He made comments about Percy’s ADHD and dyslexia, which you shut down immediately every time. It wasn’t cool to be rude towards people for something they couldn’t control.

Your boyfriend wasn’t used to not getting his way with you for so long, but quite frankly, you didn’t care. Percy was special to you—with him, you could pretend you were just another pair of stupid teenagers doing stupid things. Ironic, considering he was front and center for every major thing that went on. He made you feel like you could breathe, and you’d be damned before you let some sorry excuse of a person take away what little freedom Percy offered.

You made sure to leave that part out, though. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn’t really the time to confess you had a crush on your best friend, despite having a boyfriend.

That was a secret for another time, if it were to be told at all.

Every time you’d told someone about your boyfriend so far, you’d tried to explain to them that it wasn’t all gray skies and rain. He was so sweet to you back when you were friends, before you got into a relationship; you were sure he just needed some time to get used to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing before he bounced back to his regular old self. This time, though, you skipped that part completely.

Something about how Percy treated you made something inside you snap. It had been two whole years, and you were tired of thinking he would change, tired of holding onto hope in a hopeless situation. You were sick and tired of your boyfriend, and it was time you stopped making excuses for everything he did to you.

But, old habits died hard. You felt the all-too-familiar words on the tip of your tongue, and so, on complete impulse, you stopped yourself from starting the obligatory ‘he’s not that bad’ speech by leaning forward and burying your face against Percy’s shoulder. You could tell he was as surprised as you were, and froze on the spot. Red alarm bells blared through your head as you held your breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

Oh fuck oh gods oh fuck—

You fully expected him to push you away, but he didn’t.

Instead, one of his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer, and closer, and closer, until you were on his lap with your legs on either side of his. He rubbed your back—not exactly in a steady rhythm, but it was comforting nonetheless. You thought you’d cried everything out earlier, but, evidently, you were wrong. Tears made their way down your face and onto Percy’s pajamas, and you choked out apologies between sobs. For what, you didn’t actually know. Getting him wet, not telling him sooner, for making him find out like this… everything.

“I’m sorry,” Another sob racked through your body. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He said. “Come on, let it all out.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, and Percy only pulled away when he felt your breathing start to level out. When he looked at you again, your eyes were a lot redder and he was sure they’d be really swollen in the morning.

“You said he… hit you, right?” You nodded, and Percy felt his blood physically boil. “Can I take a look?”

You didn’t say anything – tired out from all the crying, he guessed – and pulled up the back of your shirt instead. Percy hastily got out from under you and got one of the first-aid kits stashed around the house, flicked on the bedside lamp, then pulled out a tub of Arnica.

Apart from the scars and stuff from general life as a demigod, your skin should have been free of any unusual marks. But it was black and blue. A lot of the bruising was more recent, a few just starting to form, so the cream would work fine. But some of it was older and had more of an ashen tone. Those would be tricky to treat, as they would require a lot more long-term care. He dabbed on some of the ointment from the tub and rubbed it in, careful not to put too much pressure. You visibly relaxed, feeling like jelly under his touch.

Once he was sure he had gotten every single bruise, he tugged your clothes back down.

“I think you should stay over tonight.” He concluded, putting the first aid kit back in the general area it had been in. You drowsily agreed, your eyelids already drooping. Neither of you were eager to get back to your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, you decided, telling Percy as such. You’d put up with him for way too long. You would break up with him officially the next day, and tell him to pack everything up and get the hell out of your apartment and out of your life. A weight lifted off your chest at the thought, the pressure that had been built up over two years suddenly dissipating.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Percy had started to make his way out of his room, muttering something about sleeping on the couch. Before he could get a hand on the door, you caught his sleeve and gently pulled him back to you. You didn’t want to be alone after the night you’d had. And, to be a bit more honest, you wanted to be around him. You wanted him to stay.

“Or… you could just sleep with me.”

Percy’s face turned bright red and you realized how that sounded, sputtering out a few sentences of ‘literally sleeping together’ and ‘didn’t mean it like that’ before giving up and just pulling him down next to you. The two of you got settled under the sheets on opposite ends, which didn’t really do much because Percy’s bed had a single-size mattress. Eventually, though, the two of you moved into a cuddling position to avoid dangling off the sides.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, snuggling closer to him and making his heart skip one or two beats. “Me staying over, I mean.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway, so you can’t really make it any worse. I think you’re helping, actually,” he replied. “So no, I don’t.” He felt you nod slightly.

“Thanks for everything.” You whispered, hugging him tight. He couldn’t see your face, but he knew by the way your arms slackened and your breathing evened out that you drifted off immediately after.

That was when it hit him.

He was in bed.

With a girl.

And not just any girl, either.

He was in the same bed as you, his best friend, who he had been holding back feelings for, for as long as he’d known you. And you were cuddled up to him, the way all those couples that died really early in all the scary movies his mom loved to watch. It made his heart beat a little faster. A lot faster, actually.

The couple part, that is, not the dying early part.

No, no, no, no. No. This was not the time. If he were to tell you how he felt about you, he would wait until you were healed, mentally and physically.

He hoped that day would come sooner rather than later. He’d help you get there if you’d let him.

His eyelids slowly got heavier and heavier until they closed completely. He hoped his mom wouldn’t be too surprised and scream when she walked in her son’s room and found that you had just magically appeared in his bed.

“For the record,” he murmured, finally feeling the clutches of sleep dragging him down into the abyss. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world…”

I’d give you mine, if you want, he wanted to add, but those words could wait until another day.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hi!! Can I please request a romantic matchup for Mystery Incorporated, OUAT, and Star Wars? (sorry if that's a lot!)

I'm pretty average when it comes to things like height and weight, I have curly honey brown hair and brown eyes. I have so many freckles and I wear glasses cause I'm super blind.

My sense of style is all over the place when it comes to everything. My room is an eclectic mess of old car parts, huge bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books, antiques that I've collected, random paintings I've done, and I think the rest of my style is very similar. I find a way to make a cute outfit out of anything.

I'm asexual and biromantic. I love artsy things like cosplaying, crafting, and painting, and I love to sing and dance. I'm extroverted but still quite shy. I love music, recently I've been into kpop. I'm really sensitive when it comes to tv, I cry over every movie.

I am a very caring person, although I have a tendency to like being babied, as I am the youngest of my friends. I am also really clingy and I have a lot of love to give. One of my favorite ways to show love is acts of service, I love helping bandage people up if they are hurt, or cooking them a meal. I'm also big on pda and physical touch.

I think that's all I got! anyways thank you so much!!

Hi! Thank you for requesting a matchup, and don't worry, the amount is fine! :) I hope you enjoy! <333333

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Mystery Incorporated;

Shaggy Rogers:

🥪 You met Shaggy when you called them for help, there was a ghost of some kind in your closet, now you didn't mean to make the like the Ghostbusters, but you had no idea who else to call; and you did not regret it after you saw him... Shaggy

🥪 You were a bit shy when you first spoke to him... And his dog... But you quickly warmed up to him, finding that he loves to eat and boogie down; you loved to dance too, so that's one thing you had in common!

🥪 After the ghost, who had actually been your grandmother pulling a prank, got caught, Shaggy asked you out and you said yes; Shaggy then got your number and later that weekend took you out to a nice fast food place and then you both went walking around a park before he heard an ice cream truck, (sadly though, his dog, Scooby, was being a third wheel)

🥪 Though, you both really liked each other, and it got to the point that Shaggy went on dates without Scooby, and you both had a really great time each time; and soon enough Fred, Velma, and Daphne were begging you both to stop kissing when you joined them for a ghost hunt

🥪 Shaggy thinks you're like totally awesome dude :) He's like totally in love with you too (He'd make you so many sandwiches)

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OUAT;

Jefferson:

🎩 You met Jefferson when you were living in storybrooke, now he couldn't stay inside that mansion he lived in forever, so when he had to go out for food and literally ran into you, he was glad that he did; love at first sight?

🎩 Being the little devious boy he is, he apologises and insists that you come with him to him home where he could get you some tea; you decided, 'why the hell not' and went with him, feeling an odd sense of trust and peace with him

🎩 One thing led to another, and you moved in three months later, Jefferson was the sweetest gentleman, always making sure you are alright and feel loved; you absolutely adore him, half the reason why you began dating him, he's gorgeous, and you love to repay his kindness, love, and generosity with little acts of service

🎩 Somehow along in what seemed like a fairytale, you helped Jefferson get his daughter back, and he would be forever grateful for your help; you became a cute, little family - you loved cooking up food to go off into the woods and have picnics with them

🎩 Jefferson totally believes that it was love at first sight, and you feel the same, with every lingering glance, cuddles in large beds, and going out of sweet dates, you both were head over heels; you'd do anything for each other

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Star Wars;

Han Solo:

🔫 You met Han when you went with your Uncle Ben and new friend Luke to make a deal with the man and his Wookie friend; you three needed to get out off the planet and your Uncle Ben made a deal with Han

🔫 You on the other-hand, should have been listening to the conversation, but all you could see was Han; oh boy, oh boy

🔫 Han was sort of thinking the same, well, he thought you were mighty attractive, he loved the way you smiled, and the way your eyes shimmered when something interesting peaked your interests

🔫 You didn't start dating/courting until after the end of Darth Vader, dancing about in celebration, Han took his moment to pull you into a shared dance where you then shared your first kiss under the many stars

🔫 Han can't get over you, and misses you when you're gone, even if you are in another part of the ship, like yourself, he always wants your touch, either holding your hand, your hand on his arm, sitting shoulder to shoulder... In short, he's whipped; you felt the same, needing him always near you, and you always found it endearing when you'd come back into the cockpit and turn Han's pout into a grin

---

[incendio22]

FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

Chapter 4: The Three Broomsticks

The conversation with Ominis lingered in my mind throughout the entire day. After classes I decide I need to talk to Sebastian. I need to get things off my chest. He is most likely in the Slytherin common room or the library. I decide to start with the library since I know it's one of the places that brings him comfort and for some reason I sense he needs just that.

I enter the massive library. Bookshelves climbing each and every wall all the way up to the roof. For someone who loves books, like Sebastian, I can really see why it is a place of comfort and peace. The atmosphere in the library is calming. I see a group of Ravenclaw students studying. I shrug my shoulders and think that only a Ravenclaw would be studying the first day of the semester. I see Amit amongst them. He looks incredibly focused and does not notice me. I wander through the library and try to see Sebastian, but he is nowhere to be found. A ghost flies by and I nod out of politeness. I make my way to the common room, but he is not there either. I see Imelda, and even though I despise her she might have knowledge of Sebastian's whereabouts.

''How was quidditch camp?'' I ask her politely since I overheard her talking about a summer quidditch camp.

''It was absolutely marvelous!'' She looks ecstatic that I asked her. ''I think I have a good shot at becoming quidditch captain this year actually. Have you thought about trying out for the team?''

Sports were never really my thing in muggle school, but I did however have some good skills on the broomstick. Even though the thought did not fully appeal to me, it's too soon to say no.

''I havent't really thought about it,'' I admit. ''Do you really think I'd be a good fit for the team?''

''Hear me out,'' Imelda leans in and lowers her voice. ''No one has ever beaten me in my practice exercises, and we both know that I am the best flyer at school. I think you could make the cut.''

''Well, I'm happy to hear. I need to think about it, then.'' I say and smile to her. ''Have you seen Sebastian?''

''As a matter of fact, I have.'' She says and her voice is back in her normal pitch. ''However, I won't tell you unless you tell me what is going on between the two of you. I saw some sparks flying last year, but they seemed to die before the O.W.L.s... People, I mean, I am wondering.''

Her face looks devious and I really do not want to share the story with her. But knowing Imelda, she won't give me an answer unless I provide her with at least a crumble of what she wants.

''I'm sorry to disappoint you, but we are just friends. And had a small falling out when we got caught up in the stress of the O.W.L.s,'' I say, hoping she does not see my lie.

''Y/n,'' Imelda leans in again. ''I know a lie when I hear one. But I am also kind enough to understand that you don't want to tell me.'' She looks bitter and her facial expressions almost scare me. ''He was heading to Hogsmeade. Alone. However, next time you need a favour from me - Don't come empty handed.''

''Thank you, Imelda.'' I say and I try my very best to look grateful. Stupid witch, I think. Expecting strangers to spill their secrets to her.

I head out to the clocktower courtyard and mount my broom. It's gonna be a quick fly to Hogsmeade. As I take off and leave the castle behind me I see a thestral flying in the sky, just over the forbidden forest. I lean forward, increasing the speed of the broom and feel the chilly, autumn air stroking my cheeks. My hands are almost numb, since I forgot gloves. I land just outside of Hogsmeade and walk the last bit, thinking that he must be at the Three Bromsticks. I walk rapidly and greet Sirona in the bar. On the top floor I see him, sitting in a corner with a book in his hand. I walk up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

''What?'' He asks angrily before he turns around and sees me. ''Oh. It's you.'' His voice softens and he puts the book down. The best healing plants I read on the front.

''Still looking for a cure?'' I nod towards the book and sit myself down on the seat next to him. He nods.

''I will never stop looking for a cure.'' He looks sad. ''I keep thinking that if I find a cure, she may forgive me. I know it's silly, because how could she ever forgive me after what I did?''

There and then, I want to put his hands in mine to comfort him. But I know that by doing so and not having only friendly intentions, I might risk our friendship. And it is not a gamble I am willing to risk.

''You need to give her time, it's still very fresh.'' I say in my most sympathetic voice. ''It hasn't even been six months. It's gonna take some time for her wounds to heal.''

''I guess you're right. And I need to make amends with others, too.'' He says. His eyes are fixated on the small glass of fire whiskey.

''Really?'' I ask. Genuinely wondering who he is referring to.

''Let me buy you a drink.'' He insists. ''Assuming you chased me here, it's quite rude of me to not even offer you something to drink. What do you want?''

''A butterbeer, thank you.'' I say. He stands up and makes his way down the stairs.

I can hear him and Sirona talking. He sounds amused, laughing at whatever she is saying. A short moment after I see him coming back up the stairs with one glass of butterbeer in each hand. He gives me a large smile.

''One butterbeer for the new girl.'' He puts it down next to me on the table. He knows that I despise that nickname, but I don't say anything. ''So, travelling all around Europe this summer?''

''Yeah,'' I nod. ''Like I said, Paris was best by far. The rest is kind of a blur. Have you ever been there?''

''No, I barely leave Feldcroft.'' He admits, looking a bit ashamed. ''I did, however, read about Paris after you wrote that you went there.'' He looks into my eyes. ''Let me tell you, there is not much to be found about that city in wizard books. I had to travel quite far to get my hands on a muggle book about it.''

''Really?'' I ask, genuinely surprised he went that far to look up what I wrote him about. ''You could just have asked me to bring you one.''

''I haven't really been in a good state since, you know, so I didn't want to ask any favours of you.'' He looks down again. When he looks sad, he looks small. Almost childish. Not in a bad way, but more in an innocent kind of way. He looks like the kind of person you could never lay a hand on to hurt them.

''After what we went through I assumed we could ask the other one for favours.'' I say with resistance to his statement.

''You're right. Like I said, I haven't been myself since that. I did bad things to many people whom I care about. That does something to your mind.''

''I understand,'' I say with compassion. It's almost like I forget that I got hurt by the fire, too. ''Well, I hope in the future you can come to me.''

''I did enjoy reading about Paris.'' Sebastian changes the subject really fast. I assume I hit a sensitive spot. ''I would love to see it someday.''

''Oh, it's absolutely marvellous!'' I say with excitement, some foam from the butterbeer still on my upper lip. ''It's a stunning city with great architecture and the atmosphere is just... Romantic.''

He looks into my eyes and smiles. His hand is approaching my face and he strokes his thumb on my upper lip to remove the foam that I was too excited to notice. It feels almost electric, his thumb on my lip. I want to hold still and keep it like that for eternity, but my reflexes pull me away.

''Just some foam.'' He says, breaking his eye contact and looking slightly embarrassed. ''What I found most exciting about Paris is how many things happened to the city, almost breaking down completely from the revolution and uprisings. Just to find some peace and building it all back up.'' He looks around the room. We are alone. ''It just brings me some hope, if you understand.''

I nod, because I really do understand.

''I think you should talk to Ominis.'' I say. Now it's me changing the subject abruptly.

''I doubt he wants to.'' Sebastian looks a bit upset. ''I want to give him some time and space. And when the timing is right, he can let me know.''

''It does not always work like that.'' I tilt my head and look at him with empathy. ''You hurt him, Sebastian. And yes, he needs time. But first and foremost, he needs an apology. And then you can give him some more space.''

Sebastian nods and finishes his butterbeer.

''I owe you an apology, too.'' He says hesitantly. His voice is barely audible. ''For everything.''

''Thank you, Sebastian.'' I smile at him and without even thinking about it, my hand reaches for his. I put my hand on top of his and start stroking it. ''I have already forgiven you.''

''You are one of the best people I have ever met and I would never put you through that again.'' He squeezes my hand and once again, I get that electric feeling.

We decide it's time to head back to the castle. It's really cold, especially without gloves and scarf. I tell Sebastian that I have my broom with me, but we decide to walk. We walk through the dark and foggy September night, letting the frost bite our cheeks. I start shivering and Sebastian looks at me.

''Merlin's beard! You do not even have a scarf with you?!'' He asks with an upset tone. ''Here, take this.''

Before I can talk back he has taken his scarf off and puts it around my neck.

''Much better.'' He says proudly and grins at me. ''Now we just need to get you to the castle before you turn into an icicle.''

We walk slowly to the castle, despite the biting cold. Because right in this moment, with the tiny raindrops and stars in the night sky, everything feels peaceful.

[lilmagiceverywhere]

"A PSALM FOR THE WILD BUILT" by Becky Chambers

4.75/5 ✨️

I had found A Psalm For The Wild-Built recommended to me searching through various solarpunk/hopepunk tags a while ago, and noted it in my mind to come back to it later.

But to be honest, I doubted that I would ever actually get around to reading it. My college classes kicked me straight into a horrible reading slump since I started them at sixteen years old, and it’s been hard for me to get through books ever since. And I have read books outside of those textbooks, but it’s only been an average of one or three a year, not a big number.

Yet I found the book pop up on my phone again in December, and it planted a seed in my head. I wanted to read the book, I really did, but I didn’t want to add to the pile of physical books I’ve bought in the past and wanted to read, so I decided I would go about it differently.

I got my copy through the library.

I know to some people, going to the library isn’t as revolutionary as they might expect. But I hadn’t used a library in years, and the library I have access to is an actual building, not a small converted ranch house with barely enough room for all the bookshelves. And I could reserve the copy online and pick it up, I didn’t have to spend hours searching for a book and somehow end up lost in the accounting books looking for a sci-fi book.

Libraries are great, y’all.

Anyway, let’s actually talk about the book. Spoilers beyond this point, you have been warned.

A Psalm For The Wild-Built is a novel (or perhaps a novella, it is on the shorter side) by author Becky Chambers. The story is quite simple– Dex, a tea monk, feels unsatisfied with their job, and can’t figure out why. One day, while traveling between settlements, Dex comes in contact with the first robot any human has seen in centuries.

The novel is mostly conversational. Unlike other stories I’ve found myself drawn to in the past, the conflict doesn’t rely on saving the city/the world, defeating an evil authoritative figure (be it a king, queen, or weird demon), or a revolution. The conflict is more internal. Dex is suffering from what I would consider Severe Burnout™, and it takes them from a life of comfort to literally climbing up a mountain.

But I find myself drawn to this sort of conflict now. As much as I love the stories of revolutionaries overthrowing authoritative figures, maybe with a bit of magic or sci-fi jumbo thrown in as well, having that be the only story I enjoy for years has made me a bit yearnful for something more mundane. I suppose that’s where the genre of “cozy scifi/fantasy” comes in. It’s not epic quests or large adventures, it’s the story of everyday lives in a more extraordinary world.

Dex’s conflict is dealing with burnout. Something that I’ve been feeling myself for a while, not just creatively. Even though it’s been years, the COVID-19 burnout that I felt during my college years really took a number on me. I was depressed, I hardly left my single dorm room, I didn’t go out and experience a lot of things, and I only made myself do the bare minimum in order to graduate. At the time, I felt like it was necessary for my survival to do that. I graduated almost two years ago, and recently, I’ve been reconsidering that philosophy that pushed me through college. Was it necessary for my survival, or if I had pushed myself more, would my experiences have been marginally better?

Having Dex’s conflict be internal like that spoke to me a lot. Even though the reasons for burnout are different, the symptoms are the same. The solution, in a sense, is similar as well. I’m not going to free-climb up a mountain any time soon, but I think getting out in nature has helped me recover from the COVID-19 burnout.

I got a job at a place that’s going to remain redacted for my privacy’s sake, but it’s a place that gets me close to two different things– people and nature. The people part is mostly just customer service, but I work at a nature-place, which has biologists and horticulturalists and researchers who are actually looking into ways we can help the planet within the ongoing climate change crisis. Half of my coworkers are vegetarian or vegan, and being in a place like this has inspired me to do more about my physical and mental health.

Dex’s solution to their burnout was also to retreat to nature, though theirs is much more literal. They detour from the path they’ve set themself on recklessly, going towards the uncontrolled wilderness of their land of Panga (which I’m assuming is a reverse Pangea situation) instead of the next town they were supposed to visit. In the wilderness, there is supposedly a monastery for those seeking respite from the city life, and even though it’s been years since a human last stepped foot there, Dex makes it their mission to visit it, thinking it might be the cure to their weird affliction (which, to be fair, they aren’t recognizing as burnout).

While on the road there, Dex encounters Splendid Speckled Mosscap, a robot. Centuries before Dex’s time, the robots who worked for the humans gained a sudden consciousness. It is not a violent robot revolution, in fact, it’s a more philosophical one. The robots promise to see the humans again, but they need some time to themselves. To discover things, to discover what life truly is all about.

Mosscap is a robot who volunteered to play the role of ambassador, to return to the humans to see what the humans need help with. And it just so happens that Dex is the first human it comes across.

I’m not going to dive too in depth more about the plot and conflict of the book, because I really want to encourage anyone reading this to experience it for themselves. I love the dynamic that forms between Dex and Mosscap (my beloved). They have such interesting conversations, from the nature of humanity, to the differences between robots and humans, to even the more mundane things, like cooking, and taking a less-traveled path.

The book is pretty character and dialogue heavy, but it works out perfectly for the type of conflict its supposed to reflect. If you like more action and description in your books, though, this might not be the one for you, and that’s okay! But if you’re intrigued at all by this book, I suggest you check out your library to see if they have a physical or digital copy you can borrow. It’s a delight of a book, and there’s even a sequel I now get to patiently wait for to return to the library so then I can check it out!

[a-crow-ready-for-a-murder]

TOWARD HOME

Hey everyone, here's another twst fic. This time in 2nd person with the reader feels homesick and decides to visit nrcs wish granter. Hope you enjoy. Also I reference the readers mom as their familial contact and I know that isn't for everyone so I tried to keep it brief so you don't get taken out of the story.

If anyone were to confront you and ask what you were thinking, logically, you couldn’t answer. What lapse in judgment could have possibly led to the notion that this was a good idea?

Even if you wanted to answer, you probably couldn’t even look them in the eye, so with eyes trained on the floor you opened one of the doors to the underwater cafe. Perhaps you could say that you couldn’t see where you were, no one would question it upon seeing your swollen red eyes, still raw from a night of crying. Perhaps you could say you were sick and not thinking clearly, you certainly looked sickly as you wrapped your arms around yourself with each sluggish step. Monstro lounge wasn’t too busy, only a few regulars were scattered about. Amidst the tranquility you spotted two familiar figures standing by a hallway opening. Specifically the hall that led to the VIP room. You took one calming breath as you quickened your pace in their direction. Rather than give attention to disappearing nerve you focused on finding your voice that had been gone this morning. The distance between the door and the twins wasn’t as far as it had looked but before you could even croak out a word, the calmer of brothers, Jade, nodded towards the direction of the door in the middle of the hall. “He’s in his office.”

They knew why you were here. Of course they did. If nothing else the twins and their boss knew what a desperate soul looked like. Your voice was still absent as far as you could tell, so you nodded your thanks as you walked past them.

Your good sense may have abandoned you, but your manners certainly didn’t. Stopping in front of the dark, wooden door. One that for its simplicity, felt so ominous if you knew of the man on the other side of it. Looking back at the way you came, you took a brief moment to ask yourself if you wanted to do this. Although the chill in your spine tried to warn you to run, and the numbness in your legs wanted to hold you back from the room on the other side of the door, you steeled yourself and raised a shaky fist to knock.

The sharp noise of knuckles hitting wood echoed around you as you knocked three times and waited. When no response immediately came you began to wonder if you should try another time, more than likely though it was your fear finally starting to burrow its way into the forefront of your mind. ‘No’ you thought to yourself as you shook your head in hopes of clearing the sensation like some sort of etch and sketch. You were about to raise your hand to knock again when you heard a familiar baritone through the door “Come in.”

You realized then that it had only been a few seconds since your first knock. With another deep breath, you twisted the door knob, the quiet click gave way to the door swinging open slowly.

There he was. Hunched over his desk scribbling away at a pile of papers stacked high enough to be mistaken for a phone book. His glasses were perched near the end of his nose as the cerulean eyes behind them scanned page after page. His silver locks would move slightly as he flipped through the papers, framing his face as he frowned in concentration. The room itself was quiet with only the sound of his pen scratching paper, the light from the octopus shaped chandeliers illuminating the walls of bookshelves categorized alphabetically for the rows and rows of books that lined them. In the center of the room were 2 leather couches facing each other with a fish tank glass table between them, tied together by periwinkle carpeting.

Azul didn’t look up as you entered, and as you stood awkwardly in the doorway you found yourself watching his gloved hand glide over the papers. It almost looked like he wasn’t writing anything, just skimming over whatever was on the paper, if you were a bit more awake you might’ve squinted to see if he was but at the moment, you were just entranced by the motions.

“Close the door, please” his voice snapped you out of your trance

“Hm? Oh! Right, sorry” you stammer as you close the door behind you

He still hadn’t looked up when he spoke to you but after you closed the door he put down his pen next to the mountain of papers and rubbed his eyes. Even after closing the door you didn’t further enter the room, still feeling awkward about being there to begin with. Azul readjusted his glasses before looking at you curiously “Ah, prefect. What brings you here?”

“I, uhm….Well…” You hadn’t really planned out what your were going to say but you knew filling the room with dead air wouldn’t help the anxiety that was rapidly creeping up your neck. While you were trying to form your sentences, Azul seemed to study you, no doubt he recognised the exact kind of miserable state you were in and probably didn’t need an eloquent speech on what was bothering you, so with a small sigh you gave up on any sort of impressive wording and just came out with it. “I want to know if you can help me.”

Azul didn’t say anything for a moment. His face didn’t change but if you had to guess, you would probably say he was considering you. After the incident with his overblot you two were cordial enough, even after everything that had happened over winter break you still wouldn’t say you were friends, but as far as you knew there was no bad blood of any kind though no doubt he was still wary, just as he was with everyone. You weren’t hiding anything. You had no ulterior motive, or hidden agenda, you were just a sad soul who didn’t really have many options. Your friends couldn’t help you, the headmage wouldn’t help you, you even doubted Azul could help you but at this point you were more than willing to try.

After a moment Azul stood up from his desk and waved his hand in the direction of the couches. You nodded and went to sit down on the one closest to the door you came in from while Azul sat on the one across from you. “What can I do for you?” He asked

You fidgeted with your hands as you started to speak, your voice feeling like it was emerging from a hundred year sleep, “I’ve been here for months, and Crowley is supposed to be finding a way to send me home but….” you sighed and sat forward before continuing “Everyone is talking about break and seeing there families but I can’t even let mine know that I’m okay. And I get that it’s hard considering there’s no record of where I’m from but…it’s getting even harder to get through a day. I keep waking up hoping that maybe today I’ll wake up in my own bed and all this will be a weird dream but…” Azul listened silently as you spoke, his face remained impassive even as tears began to fill your eyes. You wiped them away and took a deep breath, it was now or never. “I’m not here to ask if you know how I can get home, but with all this magic and advanced tech, I was wondering if, maybe there was a way I could, I dunno call my family? Or even…Just write to them?”

When Azul didn’t say anything your nerves came back full force “I understand it’s a complicated request, and I totally get if you can’t do it or if it’s not something you know of, and I’m not trying to waste your time but-”

Amidst your tidal wave of words Azul leaned forward and reached out his hand to gently take hold of yours “Y/N.”

This stopped your rant and you found yourself feeling silly for the outburst but as you looked at him you noticed that he was entirely calm. Instead of seeming annoyed or perturbed he looked… empathetic, like he understood your plight and wanted to help you. No doubt a look he perfected for his unsuspecting customers, you had to wonder how many people got lured in by it, only to realize they stepped into an iron clad trap with the simple stroke of a pen. Every nerve in your body told you to guard yourself against that look, but in that moment, that look was like a pillow among the stony, dismissive expressions you tended to get from Crowley. Even if it was fake, it was still welcomed as you collected your thoughts before saying. “I just figured I’d ask since…let’s face it, I don’t have much to lose.”

Azul responded with a quiet hum as he retracted his hand to clasp with his other one while he rested his elbows on his knees. “Well it is definitely a difficult request” he said simply

You looked down, “Yeah, I figured, thanks anyways” you said about to get up

“It’s probably not impossible though” Azul continued

You stopped, a faint swell of something that’d been lost over the months “What?”

“The dark mirror can connect to many places, distant lands, undiscovered territories, under the ocean, and it was what brought you here to begin with. So if it was able to reach your realm then there’s a chance other interconnecting relics can too”

He raised a good point, “However, the mirror itself uses a vast amount of magic, so much so that the mirror goes into repose after for three months”

“So it can’t be anything on that big of a scale?” you asked

“Basically.”

“So something like a cell phone could do it without big repercussions?”

“In theory”

The swelling in your just got bigger, so big it threatened to spill, likely as another storm of tears. Could it work? Could you really be able to reach home? Was it safe to entertain this idea, to even have hope? You couldn’t help it, nor did you try to stop the smile that was taking your face by force. However your reverie was broken by Azul clearing his throat “the thing is, prefect, I’m still running a business here.”

You almost laughed but managed to suck in your lips at the last second. In your moment of unbridled joy you’d completely forgotten about the other shoe. “What do you want?” you asked, trying not to let your bitterness show

“It is a big request, so a payment of equal value would be in order.”

You had a pretty good guess as to what he was talking about. “Ramshackle?”

“You catch on quick.”

“Azul, the last time we had this talk, you left me homeless. Are you seriously trying to do that to me again?”

“You don’t have much else to offer I’m afraid.”

“I mean, I could work at the lounge.”

“For way longer than we’re both here at school.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You weren’t business oriented by any means but you knew that even if this succeeded you still needed a place to live and you didn’t have enough rapport with any dorm to become an actual resident, you had to think. With a subtle click of your tongue you opted to try the one thing you knew from all your years watching tv. “I’d like to negotiate.”

Azul’s cool, businessman composure cracked into an amused smirk, with how little you knew of contract law he could have easily said no and you’d never question it. Yet in a weird twist of fate he chuckled “negotiate? All right, what would you suggest?”

Maybe he was in a good mood, maybe your hubris impressed him, maybe he was struck by the spirit of benevolence itself, who knows? But now you had to work fast before the window closed.

You went over everything you could offer but none matched the scale of what you were hoping to get. “Well…” At the very least you needed to stall while you threw together a plan. Any plan.

“You did say it’s a long shopt, so there’s a chance this won’t even work.”

“I did, yes”

“What then?”

“Then the deal is off with my deepest apologies.”

“Has that always applied?”

“Yes.”

“Has it ever…happened? Where you couldn’t hold up your end?”

“No. This is the first deal I’m making with any kind of uncertainty”

“Really? Why? Does Ramshackle mean that much to you?”

“One part Ramshackle, another part academic curiosity”

“To see if it can be done at all?”

“Pretty much.”

“And if you succeed? Apart from helping me, what happens?”

“Well the possibilities there are endless, from scholarships to business opportunities”

“Do I get a partial credit? Or just a mention?” you smiled hoping your statement sounded like a joke, or at least enough of one.

“Is that what you wish to negotiate?”

You were about to speak but then it hit you. Shared credit….Shared custody….Shared building!

“No, I actually wanted to offer split custody of the dorm.” You weren’t sure if ‘custody’ was the word but perhaps if you sounded confident enough he wouldn’t take too much note.

“Really?” There was laughter in his voice, he was clearly enjoying this.

“Well the way I see it, You only really need the ground floor, with the lounge and kitchen, there’s no real need for the upstairs.”

“Yes, the plan was to take out the upstairs floor in favor of a higher ceiling”

“Okay, but what if we did this; have the main floor as the cafe and the upstairs as my living quarters, you’d have night security, clean up…”

“If that’s really all you provide I’m not seeing how this brings anything special.”

It’s true, it didn’t. So you had to think what you, exclusively, could bring.

“What about the ghosts? They were there before me and we’ve actually become good friends. If Grimm and I leave, they might get lonely again and start terrorizing customers, what then? Are you going to kick them out of the only home they’ve ever known?”

At this Azul put a hand on his chin thoughtfully and you knew you’d found your foot hold.

“Not to mention the Gargoyle club. They come around often to admire the ramshackle gargoyles and I don’t think Malleus will be happy to see them gone, but if I’m living upstairs you could say it was my request and you were too benevolent to say no.”

You didn’t like dropping the Fae princes name for anything, but you were grasping at any straws you could at this point. “Plus, after living there for so long I know how the building is and so I know all the handy tricks for the heat, stove, lights and all that stuff. So for letting me live in above your new cafe you get ghost control, a gargoyle alibi, and old building maintenance all for free.” You hoped dearly that the free part of your offer tipped the scales in your favor.

Azul looked like he was holding back some laughter, whether it was for pretenses or out of guilt for finding your desperation funny was beyond you but you didn’t much care so long as it actually worked.

“I can’t say I disagree with your argument, however the cost of building a separate apartment would cost more than simply tearing out the upper floor.”

You bit back the aggravated groan that was starting to rise. “Uhm…well…”

“So here’s a counter offer. If I succeed in holding up my end of the deal, I get the lower floor, all that you’ve offered AND you working at the new cafe. For free of course.”

“Do I get a lunch break and coffee?”

“Half hour lunch break, discounted goods.”

“Further discount for overtime?”

“Depending on what.”

“Probably coffee.”

“Then yes.”

“Deal.”

Azul stood to begin drawing up the contract and while you thought over everything, you found yourself calling out to him. “Hey, Azul”

“Yes?”

“Whether this works or not. I’m…I’m glad you’re giving it a shot” You looked down as you said it in case some tears got brave behind your eyes. You hadn’t noticed Azul’s gentle smile as he answered “let’s hope it works.”

Weeks had passed and turned into months since you’d made the deal with Azul, and that time you’d seen him talking quite a lot with Ortho and the tablet Idia used to attend classes on his behalf. It made sense to talk to the technomancers but you found yourself very surprised when you went to the library and found him having an animated discussion with Lilia, who seemed just as excited.

Each new day you thought more about home, how your family was doing. If a lot of time had passed. If they knew somehow that you were alive, or if they were trying to move on without you. At first you didn’t mind the wait. The task was complicated and you had classes to think about. But as time went, it began to eat away at you until anticipation turned into anxiety.

You were pacing the floor of the ramshackle dorm, wondering if you should check how things were going. It had been 4 months since you’d signed the contract and now everything was just a waiting game for you. Azul wasn’t really one to provide updates and that alone made you even more anxious. You had just decided to go to Octavinelle when there was a knock at your door. Admittedly you ended up running to open it, the anticipation filling your veins with an unbearable amount of nervous energy as you swung the door open with maybe a little too much force.

Azul stood calmly on the other side, his expression gave nothing away as you stood face to face. “Good morning, y/n.” He said

“Hey.” You said breathlessly

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, sorry. Right this way.”

Upon closing the door behind you, Azul followed you to the living room, taking in the layout of the dorm as he did. “How have you been?” He asked

“Oh you know, class, chores, whatever category you put Ace and Grimm in, you?”

“Quite busy but feeling just as fulfilled” As he spoke, Azul reached into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked to be an old cordless phone from, if you weren’t mistaken, the 90’s. It was jet black and looked sort of blocky. If anything it reminded you of the one from the movie ‘Scream’ and you had to wonder how he’d fit that into his pocket. “Is that…” you asked

“Yes. The first model of the interconnected phone, ready for its first test.”

You looked at it slack jawed. You’d believed it was possible, but to see it in front of you was almost like a dream. You were debating on pinching yourself just to see if anything happened. Azul, however, was unfazed by your gaping and went on to explain “after much trial and error, we’d finally made a device strong enough to reach further than twisted wonderland as we know it and keep a signal. There’s no guarantee it will reach your world but it’s the best model so far. We’ve tried many different number combinations to reach other realms and we believe yours would be number 17.”

There it was again. The swelling, the same one that threatened to overflow through your eyes. As you eyed the phone you could feel your heart beat getting erratic. Was this it? Was this the day you would finally hear their familiar voices. “Try to temper your expectations though. There’s still no guarantee since it is still technically a tester. But still, I look forward to hearing the results.” With that, Azul handed you the phone. You smiled as you accepted it yet there were too many emotions going through you to be able to speak, so you let your tears fall as you nodded enthusiastically. Azul smiled in return and wished you luck as he headed out while all you could do was wave. It was finally the moment of truth.

The next day at school you sought Azul out, you found him during lunch and made a beeline for him. “Hey, Azul.”

“Ah, prefect, and how are you today?”

“I’m good, actually I was wondering. Are you busy this evening? Around dinner time?”

“Hmm not to my knowledge, why?”

“Uhm well, you worked super hard on that favor for me so I wanted to ask if you wanted to come by for dinner, nothing too fancy, just a homemade thing.”

Azul eyed you suspiciously, but figured you weren’t lying. Not to mention it certainly was better than coffee and an apple, which admittedly had been most of his meals in the past few months. “All right, what time?”

“Seven works.”

“Sounds good, see you then.”

“See you.” then you turned and left with a quick wave, leaving him feeling more than a little curious.

When Azul arrived at Ramshackle he seemed as aloof and confident as always where as you were almost bouncing as you opened the door. “Hey” you said “Dinner has just been plated, I hope you’re hungry”

You lead him to the kitchen where a savory smell greeted his nose. As he sat at the old yet spotless table he looked over at the counter where 2 plates sat, the still steaming food looking amazing to him who hadn’t eaten since lunch. You wasted little time bringing the plates and cutlery over and after some small talk you both dug into your meals. The food was delicious, and each ingredient that danced on his palette held just the right amount of spice or seasoning, it felt like a dish that would be served for a family dinner, it radiated warmth and a sense of comfort. “This is very good.” He said

“Thanks, my mom made it a lot at home, it’s actually my favorite thing of hers.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t know the recipe.”

You smiled broadly “I didn’t.”

Azul paused and looked at you so you continued “At least, not until last night.”

It took him a few seconds to realize what you meant but when he did, his eyes widened and he gasped “You mean?”

You couldn’t hold it anymore, you let out a small laugh as tears streamed down your cheeks “It worked, Azul, it really worked. It’s been so long since I heard moms voice…” you said as your voice cracked.

He was bewildered, he actually took a moment to let it sink in “It worked” he said quietly before clasping his hands together in delight “I’m so glad.” Now you had your hand over your mouth as you both sobbed and laughed. Even he was beginning to feel tears forming in the corner of his eyes, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Well that’s good to hear. I guess I own part of ramshackle now.” He was more trying to sober himself, since this was usually the part where people’s joy turned to anger. He braced himself for you to start yelling but you never did, instead you stood up and threw your arms around his still sitting form “That’s fine by me.” You said. He was stunned, he didn’t move, he almost didn’t breathe as you hugged him tightly and said “Thank you, Azul. Thank you so much.”

His composure gave out, he couldn’t really define the feeling in his chest but he didn’t mind it, nor did he mind the tears that were falling. Not this time, anyway. With a shaky breath, he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. “You’re welcome.” He whispered.

[pinkafropuff]

Coffee for Two- D'Marre

“You are leaving the Scions?”

She was still sitting on her bed, wearing…well, not much of anything, really, which would have been distracting if he hadn’t been blindsided by the question. Though standing closer to the door than she was, he wasn’t any more pressed to leave than the all-too-comfortable sorceress, nor was he dressed to do so. He’d been trying to brew them both some coffee- she had a glass-container contraption in her room for it- and was trying (and failing) to figure out how it worked without her input. It was, of course, only a matter of time before she got bored with him fiddling with it and showed him how it worked, but he was hoping to beat that clock.

“...maybe,” was all he said, unsure of how much surprise was hiding from his face, or how much was displayed in full. He lowered his gaze from her and turned it back to the glass-container full of coffee before leaning down to check the back. I’m sure it’s very simple.

“Maybe?” Interested but amused. Thoughtful.

For what it was worth, he liked that she asked. “Maybe,” he agreed, this time with a little smile. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Y’shtola shifted just a little out of the corner of his eye. Was she giving him her full attention? “You are not simply playing coy with me so that I might find out later?” Her tone was mostly flat to humor him, which he wanted to think was unfunny, but couldn’t.

“No,” he tried to pull the corner of his mouth down, but largely failed, “I’m not. Is that wrong?”

She crossed her arms. “No. It is not. But…”

He glanced at her, enough to put her in focus, then inclined his head towards her.

“I do not think I have ever heard that answer from you before.” She mused. “Usually you have two or three little plans to fall back upon before saying so.”

So she noticed. It was nice that she noticed. That he wasn’t prepared for this eventuality. The permanence of it. ‘Maybe’ was reserved for people like Alphinaud, people too nosy to be mostly honest with. ‘Maybe’ was not dishonest here. Not yet.

 “Usually,” he agreed. “...it’s just-” 

His lips parted. It was just them. Would it really be damning to be honest about it?

“...the Scions wasn’t supposed to be a permanent thing for me.” He admitted. “I just came for…” He broke off, suddenly at a loss for words. 

“For fun?” She finished, her smile apparent.

For you. “Something like that.” Ah. It needed a bit of aether to run, didn’t it? So if he just… “Got it to work.” A little snap and it was gurgling. Hopefully it wouldn’t have any grounds in it. 

“Did you, now?” Her curled hand pressed to her cheek, and then downward, knuckles brushing her jaw. “It took longer than normal.”

He huffed, despite himself. “It was my first time.” 

“Mmhm.” Her gaze flitted to her right, past him and towards the bookshelves touched by the streaming sunlight from her large window- a window that was hard to see into, but not out of. He assumed it was some sort of spell. “What are your plans then? After the Scions?”

He wondered why she wanted to know. Wondered if it was enough to admit to his own personal failing for. In the end, he decided, “I don’t know.”

It stung him to say, and he kept his face turned from her when he said so; dark curls brushing past bare shoulders, he closed his eyes and mouth as he attempted to maintain some form of calm. 

“You don’t know…hm…” Now she was probably tapping his cheek with her fist in that thoughtful way he knew she was wont to. “You could become my assistant, if you wished. That is, if you are not hard pressed about maintaining your form.”

“Very funny,” he half grumbled, but it made him smile. “I’m also very attached to my looks, so no.”

For a while they were both silent, with the steady dripping of coffee in one, and then two cups as the only sound that could be heard between them. When it was done, he picked them both up and brought one over to her. 

“It’s not about work,” he said finally, once they were both settled. “It’s…” The room was warm enough to remind him of home. “...I should move on.”

“To what?” She took a drink of her coffee, though not before stirring something in. He thought, next time, that he should have something to pair it with for her. “I am sure there are a great many horizons for the Warrior of Light to travel across- What?” She stopped in the middle, her eyes narrowing just a tad. “What is that dour look for?”

He didn’t say anything. Eventually, he rested his cup on her nightstand and laid on the bed on his stomach. “There’s a such thing as too much opportunity,” he murmured, though he breathed it out like a sigh. 

“But that is not your problem, is it?” She mused, closing her eyes as she sipped, then crossing her bare legs one over the other. 

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, sighing into the sheets. “It’s that-” His eyes crinkled and a wildness stirred within him, blowing air out of his nose rather forcefully. “I don’t care about any of them. They’re too boring.”

Then he groaned and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, rolling onto his back. 

“Then don’t leave.” It was so simple when she said it. Like everything was.

“I can’t…not leave.” He insisted. “I just…” I can’t get too attached to this place. “Need to go. Before there’s trouble.” He leaned back, the tips of his ears barely grazing the bare skin of her shoulder. In another voice, a quieter one, he said, “I don’t belong here.” There were too many people. Too many names he knew, and more he didn’t know.

At this, she was quiet. He thought at first that he’d said something that annoyed her- an easy feat, honestly- but when she hummed and he felt something thread through his hair, his shoulders drooped, relaxed. “Does anyone truly belong anywhere?” She asked finally.

He peered up at her face. She was thinking very hard about something, and her gaze was not on him, though it lingered in his direction. “...I don’t know.”

“Hm?” It stirred her from her thoughts, whatever they were. 

“I don’t know what I want.” He admitted. The words were alien to him- daunting, even- and when they left him their absence made him scowl. They made him want to apologize. He hated apologizing.

“Hm,” she crossed her arms over her chest, her cup nearly dangling in her left hand. “I did not think indecision so great a crime.” “Isn’t it?” Perplexed and maybe a little miffed, he rolled over again, hoping to meet her eyes. 

His confusion seemed funny to her, given how hard it seemed to hide the laugh puffing up from her shoulders, the way she rolled her head to one side, mirth escaping a mouth D’Marre had already gotten lost in. 

“Not everyone wishes to be perfect, D’Marre.” She flicked the tip of his ear absentmindedly. “You are just more obsessed with it than most.” 

He frowned…but found it didn’t actually hurt his feelings much. Instead, he crossed his arms and cradled his head in them, watching her watching him. “So?” He challenged.

“‘So’ what?” She repeated. “I stated a fact. ‘Twas not a judgment of your character.”

Somehow this made him smile. Gaze sliding down to her stomach and then back up to her eyes, he said, “Has anyone ever told you you’re kind?”

A snort. Clearly this was a joke of some sort. “No.”

He tilted his head. Eyes flickering down to the blankets between them and then up to her headboard, he decided, “They should.”

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Confessions of an Imperial Concubine

AO3 Author’s note/glossary/info one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

“Because I would find you,” he whispered fiercely. “I will always find you, Hermione, you are mine, mine to protect and mine to follow and mine to fucking keep forever, and if you think, even for a fucking second, that something as trivial as time would stop me—well. It wouldn’t, would it?”- Provacative_Envy, Nightmare

As it turned out, being High Concubine had its perks. For one, Sera wore headdresses that were reserved for her position alone. She also got to change her hand chain and Hetaera necklace whenever she felt like it. She did get more attention than she was used to now, though; servants, courtiers, and nobles alike all stopped to pay their respects whenever she passed them in the halls, the same way they did with Paul.

The new dresses she wore were usually extremely revealing, though not as many of them now that she was heavily pregnant. Regardless, they were always covered almost entirely in jewels and gemstones. She even had one dress that was made entirely of soostones, but she was too far along to fit in it now.

Paul had developed a habit of looking over at her, seeing her protruding stomach, and promptly deciding that he had to have her and it had to be right then. He’d ended more than one meeting early for the sole purpose of getting inside her. 

He seemed determined to fuck her everywhere he got the chance. Being Emperor, he did, of course, get the chance in a great number of locations. He fucked her in the bath. He fucked her against the bookshelves of the library. He fucked her on dining tables. He fucked her on the throne. He fucked her in storage closets. He fucked her at all hours of the day as well as the night.

Sera had asked him once why he wanted her as often as he did. He’d looked at her like she’d sprouted a second head before arching an eyebrow and declaring, “You’re asking me why I want to be inside the woman I love, the woman who’s carrying my child, at every given opportunity?”

He doted on her a great deal, as well; refusing to let her get up and retrieve something herself if he could help it and insisting upon carrying her a fair amount of the time. He scolded her if she didn’t sleep into the afternoon or eat what he perceived to be enough (so many vegetables, she was losing her mind from the sheer amount of green food she’d eaten lately).

He took great pride in introducing her as Lady Seraphine of the Atreides, High Concubine and Imperial Consort, insisting upon announcing her himself despite the fact that she always walked in on his arm anyway. She thought this looked rather silly, most especially because he was over a foot taller than her and had to bend down slightly in order to link arms with her, but it made him so happy she couldn’t bring herself to object.

Paul told her that he loved her so frequently that it made her head spin, and he’d pout until she repeated the sentiment back to him.

He was always so sweet about her cravings, insisting the cooks make whatever her heart desired— provided he felt it was adequately healthy, anyway. “Only the best for my beloved and our son,” he’d once declared with a kiss to her stomach.

“I hope dinner is to your liking, my love,” he said with a smile from his place next to her at the small table in his chambers. “I know how quickly your tastes have been changing as of late.”

“It’s irritating,” Sera admitted.

“I know, darling,” he placated, taking her hand and threading their fingers together. “It’s for our son, though. You’re doing so well, and I’m so proud to call you mine.”

She flushed, straightening her spine so as to lean up and press her lips to his. “I love you,” she murmured. 

He beamed. “And I you.” With that, he plucked her from her chair and deposited her in his lap.

“Paul!” she exclaimed in shock. “What are you—“

“You know how I like to hold you,” he reminded her.

“I’m seven months pregnant!” she pointed out as if he wasn’t the cause and therefore not fully aware of her state.

“Mmm,” he hummed in delight, running his hands over her stomach. “Yes, I know.”

Sera rolled her eyes. “I mean that I’m too heavy now for you to be doing this.”

Suddenly, he gripped her chin and turned her to face him. He was frowning, clearly displeased with her declaration. “You, my love,” he began firmly, “are absolutely perfect. You’re not too heavy. You’re just right for a woman who’s carrying a child.” He kissed her then, slowly and passionately. “My child.”

She kissed him back, and he was beginning suck a bruise into the skin of her throat when she breathlessly said, “Alright, but I’m going to eat in my own chair.”

He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. If you must.”

They were kissing when the servants knocked at the door with their meal. Paul pulled back from her for a moment and called, “Enter,” but resumed kissing her, one hand in her hair and the other on her stomach.

Sera pushed herself off of him and moved to her own chair, much to his dismay. He was pouting when she looked over at him. She took his hand and squeezed it, feeling the need to reassure him that she wanted to be close to him. Their plates were set in front of them, and Sera happily spooned some of the dish that had been specially made for her—same thing as Paul, except without certain ingredients she found distasteful during her pregnancy—onto the porcelain.

She smiled over at Paul as she lifted the fork to her mouth, and he’d just finished serving himself when he looked back over at her and his face fell, panic filling his eyes.

“Don’t eat that,” came a voice from everywhere.

Sera’s mind filled with cotton for a moment, and she put the fork back on her plate. The fuzzy feeling left her, and she realized what had happened. 

Paul had used the Voice on her.

He was shaking, staring at her plate in horror, and Sera stood slowly and backed away from him. She was too frightened to consider why he might’ve done it. All she could think was that he’d used his unholy ability on her, the person he claimed to love. If he did it to her, he’d do it to their children, wouldn’t he?

She backed away further, feeling out of control and downright violated, and he looked up at her. He must’ve sensed how she was feeling, or perhaps he simply saw the expression on her face, because he stood as well and reached for her.

“It’s poisoned,” he told her. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to scare you. I panicked. I shouldn’t have used the Voice on you, I just…” he trailed off for a moment, clenching his eyes shut as if he was in pain. “I saw you about to eat, and I knew what would happen if you did. I saw you die, Sera. There was nothing I could do to save you.” His voice broke. “You were gone.”

Understanding found her quickly, and her heart went out to him. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. He held her against him, burying his face in her hair. “I can’t lose you. I love you too much,” he said hoarsely. “I’m sorry I used the Voice on you.”

Sera shook her head, inhaling his comforting scent. “I understand. I might’ve done the same thing.”

“I love you,” he said again. “I love you so much.”

She held him tighter. “I love you, too.”

“Let me get the doctor, alright?” His voice was soft, gentle. He was clearly worried. “Maybe you inhaled some of it.”

“I can assure you, Your Majesty,” the doctor said for the fourth time, “Lady Seraphine is perfectly healthy, and so is the child.”

“You’re positive?” Paul demanded sharply. “You’re absolutely certain she’s alright?”

The doctor nodded. “Your child’s heartbeat is strong, and so is Her Ladyship’s.”

Paul heaved a sigh of relief.

Then, a knock on the doors.

“What?” Paul snapped, irritated.

“It’s Eleanor,” came a fearful voice. “Please, it’s important.”

Paul nodded his assent, and the doctor let the eighteen-year-old in on his way out.

Eleanor curtsied briefly before turning to Sera. “Are… are you alright?”

Sera blinked, a little confused. Word about the poisoning attempt hadn’t gotten out just yet. “I am, thank you.”

Eleanor closed her eyes, her sigh of relief mirroring the one Paul had let out minutes before.

He moved closer to the younger woman, purpose in his steps as he stared her down. “What do you know? Tell me.”

Eleanor took a deep, shuddering breath and opened her eyes. “I caught Marina sneaking out of the kitchens,” she admitted nervously. “She was carrying a bottle. She wouldn’t tell me what it was. When I asked, she told me to go to bed.”

Paul’s blue-blue eyes blazed with fury. “Marina tried to poison Sera?” he demanded, his voice like ice.

Eleanor shrank back from him. “I’m not sure,” she confessed before addressing Sera directly, “but I overheard her saying yesterday that the universe would be better off if you disappeared.”

Paul’s jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Marina is always saying things like that,” Eleanor informed them. “I didn’t think anything of it.”

Without another word to the girl, Paul stormed off towards the doors and opened them. “Bring Marina to the throne room,” he commanded the guards.

The guards stared at him for several seconds. “Is… is this an arrest, Your Majesty?”

“Not yet.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Marina was shouting at the guards as they dragged her into the throne room. “Do you know who I am?”

“Stop struggling,” Paul commanded in that otherworldly voice from everywhere.

Marina’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and then they filled with fear. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Paul lifted Sera off his lap as he stood, then deposited her on the throne. “You stay here, my love,” he told her softly. 

Marina’s eyes blazed with fury at the sight. “Since when does a concubine sit on the throne?” she sneered.

Paul turned towards her slowly, but didn’t respond to her question. Instead, he slowly descended the steps of the dais until he stood before Marina and gestured behind him to where Sera sat. 

She shifted anxiously as Paul addressed the girl. “Do you know who this is?”

“Sera,” Marina said bluntly before smugly adding, “I don’t believe she has a surname.”

Paul squared his shoulders. “This,” he began in a low, dangerous voice, “is Lady Seraphine of the Atreides, High Concubine and Imperial Consort. She will be the mother of my sons and the remainder of my daughters.”

Sera flushed at this declaration.

“She doesn’t have to be,” Marina replied boldly. “I— I could be instead.”

“And why would you think I wanted that?”

Marina faltered, her cheeks reddening. “I’m taller. Thinner. I’m much prettier than she is.”

“I obviously don’t agree,” Paul informed her. “Now then— Marina of House Canidar,” he began, making the girl in question straighten up. “You stand accused of treason. How do you plead?”

“What treason?” Marina demanded, looking both aghast and terrified.

“Did you or did you not attempt to poison Lady Seraphine?”

“I— I’m innocent!” she declared loudly. The court chattered, and she seemed to only have just noticed them, for she looked around the room at them anxiously.

“Is that so?” Paul demanded. When Marina nodded furiously, he said, “Tell the truth.” Then he repeated, “Did you or did you not attempt to poison Lady Seraphine?”

Marina’s eyes glazed over again and she slowly articulated, “I did.” Then, the fog lifted from her eyes and she slapped her hands over her mouth in horror. “You used the Voice on me!” she accused, pointing a shaking finger at him.

“And you tried to kill the woman I love and take my son from me,” he snapped back.

Tears filled Marina's eyes. “The… the woman you…”

“I have humored your infatuation for too long, girl,” he snapped. “I didn’t fault you for it, but you have betrayed me in the worst possible way.”

The girl’s lower lip was wobbling, the tears spilling from her eyes now.

“There can be only one punishment for such a crime.”

“N— no, please, Your Majesty, I—“ she cut herself off and fell to her hands and knees, kissing the marble tile before his feet. “I’m sorry! Please have mercy on me, I’m sorry—“

“You tried to take her from me,” he hissed, stepping back from her. “I cannot forgive such a thing. You’ll be executed tomorrow.”

Marina sobbed, and Sera wondered for a brief moment if she should pity her. She was, after all, barely seventeen, hardly older than Maeve, and when she was sitting on the floor crying that way, it made her think. But then she felt Paul’s son kick. Marina had tried to kill her. Tried to kill their son. With this in mind, all doubt and guilt left her conscience. But still, she wanted answers.

Sera walked towards the cell where Marina was being held.

The girl was sobbing, holding her face in her hands. Her head snapped up when the guard closed the door.

A chair was placed before Marina’s cell, and Sera sat down with a soft groan of relief. “God, I’m so tired.” She rolled her neck and crossed her arms over her stomach. “Moving takes so much effort lately.”

Marina said nothing, merely staring at Sera from her place on the cold stone floor. They looked at one another for a few long moments before Marina’s gaze fell to Sera’s stomach, and she averted her gaze.

“Why?” Sera finally asked. “I know we weren’t exactly close, but…”

“You were in the way,” Marina said quietly. “It could’ve been me if not for you.”

Sera sighed. “If he hadn’t met me,” she began slowly, “perhaps you’d have become a Hetaera one day. That I don’t know. Or maybe not; maybe nine years is too much for him. Maybe he always would’ve seen you as a child.”

Marina bristled, still prideful, even now.

“But whether or not you’d been made a Hetaera,” Sera continued, “whether or not you gave him children, you never would’ve given him a son.”

The younger girl's eyes narrowed. “I might’ve. I could’ve.”

Sera thought for a moment. Marina would be executed at sundown the following day. There was no harm in telling her the truth of things, she decided. “No, you couldn’t have.” She took a deep breath. “Paul has prescience. He told me he’s seen countless potential futures for himself and his reign, and the only futures where he ever manages to have a male heir are the ones where he’s with me.”

Marina was crying again, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t know for sure. About the prescience. I thought it was a rumor.”

“It’s not,” Sera told her flatly.

“Did he mean it when he said he loved you?”

Sera tilted her head, thinking. “I’ve wondered about that for months,” she admitted, “and I think he does love me. He certainly says it often enough.”

Marina nodded, looking down at her clenched hands. “I’m frightened,” she breathed shakily. “I was scared of dying before, but I don’t think I am now. I just don’t want my family to see my head cut off.”

Sera examined the dark hair hanging over her face. “I’ll speak with Paul about something a bit more dignified. I have no desire to witness an execution, either. Even if the person in question tried to murder both me and my son.”

“Dignified?”

“I see no reason to send you home to your family headless,” Sera told her. “Nor do I see a reason to publicly humiliate your House.” Sera got to her feet then, moving back towards the door. “I think your family would prefer it if you died painlessly in your sleep.”

“Thank you,” Marina said softly. “I’m grateful.”

Sera nodded. “For what it’s worth,” she began, “I wish there was a way out of this. We could’ve been sisters. I wish you had chosen that path instead.”

The girl nodded tearfully, and Sera was reminded that her eldest sister was only a year older than Marina was. “So do I.”

“Goodbye, Marina.”

With that, Sera stepped through the door. Paul was waiting for her on the other side.

“Sera,” he breathed in relief, reaching for her.

“I’m fine,” she waved him off. “Let’s just… can we go to bed now, please?”

“Of course, my love,” he murmured, taking her in his arms. “Whatever you need.”

It was late, and there weren’t many people about as they walked back to their shared chambers. His hand rested at the small of her back. “Paul,” she said softly. He hummed in response, shifting closer to her. “Does she really have to die? She’s so young, maybe…”

“She tried to kill you, sweetheart.” He rubbed her back comfortingly. “She tried to take you from me. But more than that,” he sighed, “politically speaking, I can’t let her live. Trying to kill a High Concubine, let alone one who’s pregnant, it… it can’t be let go. If I were to spare her, think of the message it would send: that we’re vulnerable, our family is vulnerable.”

“You speak as if this is a common occurrence,” she said mournfully.

“None of the others have ever attempted anything like this,” Paul admitted, “but the fall of my House, my father’s death— it was put into motion by our family doctor. I’d known him all my life. He had good reason to betray us, but still, it…” he trailed off, shaking the thoughts away. “In any case, this exact situation doesn’t occur all the time, no.” He examined her features for a moment. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to assassination attempts, however. Most never get on-world. The few that manage it get put in a report, but only the ones that reach the city are worth noting.” He glanced at her. “You, my darling, were by far the best.”

She laughed. “Was I?”

He hummed, smiling down at her adoringly. “Indeed. I’m only here at all because my shield was activated.”

“And because I knew the guards surrounding the fancy part of town,” she added. 

He raised his eyebrows in interest. “Did you really?”

Sera nodded. “I gave them free loaves of bread for a week so I could sneak past.”

He clicked his tongue. “I hope they’re not hungry enough to accept such offers now.”

“No,” she agreed, “I don’t think they are. They also don’t dislike you enough to allow it.” 

He smiled down at her as they turned a corner. “You don’t think?”

She shrugged. “Why would they? You made their lives better.”

He wrapped his arm fully around her waist. “Part of that was selfishness, if I’m honest,” he admitted. “I wanted to help them, yes, but more than that, I just wanted you to look at me.”

“I always looked at you.”

“Yes, I know, but I wanted you to stop trying to hide it.”

Sera laughed. “Did you mean it when you said I was the best?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I remember seeing your eyes, and I’d seen them gazing at me lovingly a thousand times before, but there was such hate in them that I thought, ‘it can’t be.’ But then I saw your face, and it was you.” He laughed then, tilting his head back at the memory.

“What is it?“

“You tackled me to the ground,” Paul recalled, laughter still in his voice, “I still don’t know how you managed it, you’re such a tiny thing— but you tackled me to the ground and straddled my waist, your knees on either side of my hips.”

Sera didn’t remember it that way. She just remembered jumping him and hoping for the best.

“And I was looking up at you,” he continued, “at the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life, and I knew what you would be to me, what I would have with you, but all I could think was, ‘this is not how I thought the first time with you on top of me would go.’”

She burst out laughing. “Did you really?”

“Yes!” he insisted as they neared their doorway. “I didn’t understand how someone so small could have so much anger and hatred inside them, but you certainly did.”

“I remember,” she said softly.

“But you don’t anymore,” Paul observed.

“No,” she agreed. “Not anymore.”

He was on her as soon as they stepped through the doors, wrapping her in his arms tightly from behind and holding her close.

“You know,” he began softly, “I’ve had some genuinely awful visions. I’ve seen the future of humanity if I didn’t take the throne. I’ve seen more deaths than I can count, both in and out of visions. But seeing you…” he trailed off and didn’t finish his statement. “That was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen.”

Sera laughed shakily. “You’re more scared to lose me than you were of humanity meeting a terrible fate?”

He was silent for a moment before softly saying, “Yes.”

“I’m fine, Paul,” she assured him. “I’m alright. The doctor said so. Multiple times, in fact.”

His arms tightened around her. “I know,” he sighed. “I just… I’d never seen something so painful before. I can’t bear to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” she promised, patting his hand gently where it was rubbing her stomach. Then she softly said, “You’re not going to lose Leto, either.”

He froze at the mention of his father’s name. “W— what?” He seemed to realize what she was saying after a few seconds. “You…” He gulped. “You picked out a name?”

“I did,” she confirmed.

“You want to name him after my father?” Paul asked hoarsely.

“If that’s alright with you,” she told him, growing increasingly hesitant. What if he didn’t like it for their child? Had she insulted him? Did they have different naming traditions on Caladan? Was he offended? Was he angry?

Suddenly, he cut her thoughts off by spinning her around to face him and kissing her fiercely. When he pulled back, he gazed into her eyes with a rather terrifying amount of passion. “I love you,” he told her ardently. “I love you so much.”

Sera blinked up at him in surprise. “I love you, too.”

He stared down at her for a bit, his eyes searching her face. Then, he clenched his jaw in steely determination. “Sera.”

Her back straightened. “Yes?”

Paul took a deep breath. “Marry me.”

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back. “W— what?”

“Marry me,” he repeated, taking her hands in his and lifting one to his lips. “Let me make you Empress. Let me pledge myself to you in front of all those who would look upon us. I want you by my side in all things.”

She had never expected this. She was already his High Concubine, and yet he wanted more. He wanted to crown her Empress. Tears filling her eyes, she asked, “You want to marry me? You’re sure?”

“Yes, because I love you,” he said simply. “I didn’t see it initially, but I was always meant to love you. I was always meant to marry you. Please,” he begged. “Please say yes. Be my wife, Sera.”

She gave him a shaky, tearful smile. “I’ll agree to be your wife if you agree to be my husband.”

His face split into a hopeful grin. “That’s a yes, then?”

“It’s a yes,” she confirmed, grinning back at him. “Let’s wait until after the baby is born, though.”

He pouted. “Why?”

Sera rolled her eyes at him, stepping closer. “Because I want our wedding portrait to not have me looking like a whale.”

Frowning, he informed her, “You don’t look like a whale. You look beautiful.”

She flushed and leaned into him. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” Paul supplied helpfully. “You were beautiful when I first saw you, and you’re even more beautiful now. I think you become more beautiful every time I look at you.”

Now red as a tomato, Sera stood on her tiptoes to kiss him soundly. He grasped her hips and held her so she stayed down on the floor, to which she frowned.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he scolded. “I don’t want you to fall.”

Crossing her arms over her stomach, Sera arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

“Yes, love,” he agreed placatingly, “I just don’t want you to get hurt. Especially after this whole mess.”

Sera sighed and leaned back. “With Marina?” When Paul nodded, she sighed again. “She’s actually going to be executed?” 

Another nod. “Does that…” He hesitated briefly. “Does that bother you?”

Scrunching her eyebrows together, she considered how to word things. “I understand that it must be done,” she told him slowly. “I don’t like the fact that you will be the reason someone’s life ends, but I understand why.”

“Sera,” he began slowly, “I won’t be performing the execution myself, but…” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “You should know this about me: I led a war. If I did kill Marina—and I’ll admit I was tempted to when she confessed—, she wouldn’t have been the first.”

Sera looked away from him. She’d known that, theoretically speaking. Of course he’d killed before. That foreknowledge didn’t make it easier, though.

“Does that change how you feel about me?” he prompted gently.

“Of course not,” she said quietly. “I just… I wish it hadn’t happened.”

He nodded. “I do, too.”

“Paul,” Sera began, “I’d like to ask a favor.”

He clasped her hands tightly in his. “Name it and it’s yours.”

She smiled up at him, at his sweetness towards her. “I don’t want Marina to be publicly executed.” When he opened his mouth to interject, she quickly went on, “I expect her family would be displeased with that, too. Can we not simply give her poison so that she’d go to sleep and not wake up?”

He blinked down at her in surprise. “I… suppose,” he said slowly. “It would probably be more palpable to her House that way.”

“Thank you,” she smiled at him adoringly. Then, “Now will you please kiss me, since I’m apparently not allowed to kiss you?”

Grinning and taking her by the hand, he led her to the bed and sat her down on it. “You are most definitely allowed to kiss me,” he assured her. “You just aren’t allowed to endanger yourself in the process.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” she informed him, grabbing his belt and yanking his form towards where she sat on the bed. “Now kiss me already.”

He grinned down at her. “Oh? Are you sure you only want me to kiss you? Nothing else?”

Clenching her thighs together at his implication, she glared up at him. “And if I don’t want anything else?”

“Far be it from me to deny my future Empress what she wants,” he said softly, “even if it is incredibly distressing.”

Grinning up at him, she pressed a swift kiss to his clothed abdomen before sitting back and unfastening the pins at her shoulders that held her draped gown together. The black chiffon fell from her body, and she dropped it onto the floor. 

Paul groaned at the sight, seemingly unable to decide what he should focus on—her breasts spilling out of her corset, her stomach heavy with his child, her legs clenched shut with desire for him—as his hands flew to his shirt so he could yank it over his head and let it join her dress on the floor, her corset coming next. His trousers soon followed, and then he leaned down to kiss her, her fingers in his hair and his hands on her thighs. 

“I need to be inside you,” he groaned into her mouth. “I thought I’d lose you today, and I need… I need you, Sera.”

The mattress was the perfect height for her to lay on her back and him to stand, so she laid down and spread her legs for him. “If you need to be inside me,” she told him, “then get inside me.”

Paul groaned at the invitation and felt briefly between her legs. “So fucking wet for me,” he growled, swirling his fingers around her entrance but never quite where she needed him. “You gonna be a good girl for me, hm?”

Sera whimpered, lifting her hips up to try and take his fingers inside her, her core clenching around nothing. “Please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me.” His voice was so soft, so sweet-sounding, but she knew—she knew—what he was wanting her to say.

“You,” she breathed. “I want you.” Then, still nervous even after nearly a year of being with him in this way, she took a deep breath and added, “I want you to fuck me, please.”

“Good girl,” he praised, replacing his fingertips with his cock and sliding into her. “Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He withdrew slowly, but when he thrust back in, the movement was harsh and abrupt, and Sera gasped in delight, throwing her head back.

“Paul,” she whined, and he rewarded her with another thrust, then another, and then he began fucking into her exactly the way she needed. 

“God,” he gasped out, watching her with those bright, intense eyes. “The way you look right now, naked and carrying my child, I— fuck, darling.”

Sera spread her legs wider and clenched the sheets beneath her in her fingers. “You feel so good,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop.”

His hips were jackhammering against her inner thighs, and he gripped her knee with one hand to hold her legs open, focusing on the way her breasts bounced with each of his thrusts.

“Tell me you like it,” he pleaded. “Tell me how good I feel. That you love me.”

Reaching up to put her hand over where his was clutching her knee, Sera threaded their fingers together as he thrust into her. She could feel the jut of his hipbones, the delicious way he was stretching her, and she never wanted it to end.

“I love you,” she told him obediently. “You feel amazing. I love you so much.”

He bent down enough to cup her cheek but didn’t dare go further for fear of pressing against her stomach. “And I love you, my darling.”

When he pulled his hand away from her face, she kissed his palm, and he smiled at the action. “Why don’t you wrap your legs around me, angel?” he prompted gently.

With an eager nod, she lifted her legs up, and Paul took one in each hand and assisted her in wrapping them around his waist. 

Groaning at the slight change in angle, he gasped out, “I’ll never get over how tight you are. You’re like a fucking glove.”

“All for you,” she swore as he continued to thrust himself inside her. “Only for you.”

“That’s my girl,” Paul growled. “That’s my good girl, taking my cock so well.” After a few seconds of him staring at her breasts, he finally decided, “Play with your tits. Squeeze them for me.”

Far past embarrassment, Sera did so, taking her breasts in her hands and squeezing them the way he’d told her to.

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Pinch those nipples, darling. You know how you like me to do it.”

“P— Paul,” she gasped as she obeyed, pinching her nipples just right and making her core clench around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he watched, fucking her harder. “Now twist them.”

She did so, moaning loudly and arching her back.

“Let me see,” he encouraged darkly. “Hold them up for me.” She took both breasts in her hands, lifting them slightly so he could see them clearly. “God, look at you.” He reached down to brush his thumb over one of her nipples, and she whimpered from how sensitive they were to his touch. “Are they sore? Were you too rough on yourself?”

“Yes,” she admitted breathily.

Paul nodded, continuing to move within her. “I know, angel,” he crooned. “I know. They’re all swollen and red.” He pinched the nipple himself then, as if testing to see if it would hurt her. It didn’t hurt her, of course, instead sending pleasure shooting down her spine in sparks that traveled to her clit.

Unable to take it anymore, Sera whimpered, grasping at the hand holding her breast. “Please,” she begged him.

“Oh?” He was smirking, and she knew what he wanted before he could demand it of her: specifics. “Tell me what you need, darling. You know I’d give you anything.”

“Please make me cum,” she pleaded desperately. “Please, I need it, I wanna cum so bad, Paul, please—“

“Of course, my love,” he agreed immediately, reaching between them to rub her clit hard and fast.

Pregnancy had a tendency to make her orgasms hit her sooner than they normally did, she was finding, and she knew from that first touch that it wouldn’t take long. He never stopped fucking into her, never even slowed down, and she let her legs fall from his waist, resting her feet on the mattress and using the leverage to meet his thrusts.

“God, no one’s ever taken it like you,” he groaned, watching her roll her hips up into his. “You clench around me so perfectly, I think you were made for me.”

“I was,” she gasped out, her walls fluttering around him as he continued to rub her clit. “I was made for you, and you were made for me.”

“I love you,” he groaned. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you, too—“ she cut herself off on a moan. “I’m gonna cum, Paul, you’re gonna make me cum—“

“Good girl,” he praised, thrusting into her harder, rubbing her clit faster. “That’s my good girl. Cum for me.”

Sera cried out, her hips halting in midair as she spasmed around him. He fucked her through it, prolonging it deliciously.

He was speaking as she came back down, but she didn’t register it, blissed out as she was. She was, however, aware of the way he gripped her hips and moaned her name before pulling out of her. 

Maybe he laid down on the bed with her for a few minutes, maybe he didn’t, but she knew he cleaned between her thighs the way he always did before collapsing next to her on the bed and pulling her into his arms.

“Sera,” he murmured, brushing his lips over her shoulder.

“Mmm,” she acknowledged. She was usually tired after she came, but now that she was pregnant, she was exhausted.

“Did you mean it when you said you’d marry me?”

She opened her eyes and looked over at him. He looked so nervous that it made her heart swell. “Of course I meant it,” she said groggily. “I love you. I don’t know why you want me of all people, but I love you and if you choose me for this, then who am I to argue?” Just then, a thought occurred to her. “Are you going to still have the others after the wedding?” she asked before hastening to add, “I— I know you won’t sleep with anyone but me, I know that, but the other girls…”

Paul kissed her nose sweetly. “I won’t, no,” he assured her. “I know some of my predecessors have, but I won’t. It’s considered acceptable to send them back if I choose to marry. Their Houses won’t be insulted.” He took a deep breath. “However, Violet, Sophie, and Eden will all stay here, since they’re my daughters. Their mothers don’t have to stay, but I wouldn’t want to force mothers from their children.”

Sera nodded in agreement. “I don’t know Caroline or Illese very well,” she admitted, “but I know Annette will want to stay with Eden.”

He searched her features. “Does that bother you?”

“You won’t touch anyone but me, right?” she clarified.

He nodded. “No one but you.”

“Then no,” she told him with a slight shake of her head, “I don’t mind it.”

“Good. I love you too much to cause you pain.”

“I love you, too,” Sera said with a smile, allowing him to situate them both under the covers and pull her back into his arms with a kiss to her forehead.

She was asleep before he even turned the glow orb off. 

The last smut of this version, my friends. We still have the epilogue and another fic that’s an AU of this that I’m workshopping! Worry not, you haven’t seen the last of these two, I assure you.

Tag list: @meetmyothersouls @ellamaianderson @shika1200 @blackqueenstarseed1 @gatoenlaciudad @esmaada @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @softhecreator @timolaurence @timmymyluv @oddlyenoughiamweird @leecrunchybones

To be added, please ask 💗

[reliquiicis-a]

"Alhaitham. This is the Akademiya's library."

There was a distinct hint of disappointment in the Traveler's voice as she stepped through the door and was met with the sight of several rows of bookshelves.

It took quite a bit of effort already to even convince the Grand Scribe to head out together today to celebrate his birthday - albeit somewhat late - as well as Valentine's Day since they're only three days apart.

That being said, she was hoping to go somewhere a little more exciting than the library. Did he simply want to sit down and read all afternoon? That hardly counts as hanging out together. If she wanted to read, she could do that alone in the Serenitea Pot as well.

"Hey...The weather's nice today. Why don't we head to the Grand Bazaar? Or we can explore the rainforest as well if you don't feel like being around other people."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━  "I am well aware that this is the library, Lumine. I came here on purpose." He said, not bothering to even look up from the current book in his hand. "Did you expect me to be anywhere else? Kaveh's at home so I can't relax there without him nagging me all day."

When she said about going out, he sighed. He never really was to go out. He enjoyed reading and being focused. He didn't like wasting time. "Well, I suppose I did promise to spend time with you." Even if he did plan to spend it inside reading.... "Fine, I'll let you decide what we do, but if anyone suspects us to be on a date... That's on you to deal with."

[freelanceexorcist]

It’s speculatin’ time again! And it’s just capital C-Crazy enough to almost be as crazy as some of the stuff that actually made it into canon. I know I usually use the term timeline, but the trailer’s mention of “worlds” makes me think we’re actually dealing with multiple universes. I know it seems like a distinction without a difference, but they really aren’t the same thing.

FFVIIR spoiler-ish stuff and TL; DR under the cut.

So what we know so far from the trailers is that Ore Sephiroth may possibly be from a different universe. Possibly the Zack Survives one. And we know that Watashi’s idea of Reunion is to merge these timelines and bring about some kind of rebirth, hence the name of the game. Ore thinks that he killed Tifa, so it follows that he is also responsible for the Nibelheim incident and that the point of divergence is some time after that.

Buuuuut…what if Ore had nothing to do with any Nibelheim variant in any timeline/universe? What if Reunion began before the story started? It comes down to memories.

I’m working off of the assumption that if Rebirth is what I think it is, one of two things could happen. Either the merging of the worlds will cause the variants (if you'll pardon the Marvel-speak) in each universe to fuse together and be reborn as “perfect” beings or the many worlds will cancel each other out and cease to exist. And Watashi is so pants-on-head crazy that he’s not even considering that the latter will cause him to disappear as well.    

I mean, what if the former is what's happenin and those aren’t Ore’s memories of the Nibelheim incident, but Watashi’s? What if he “remembers” torching Nibelheim in the same way Cloud “remembers” being in SOLDIER? With Cloud, it happened inadvertently but maybe Ore is having it forced on him Then it becomes a race against the clock to stop this from happening while Ore fights like hell to keep himself intact and not be subsumed by Watashi. Perhaps he does succeed in stopping at least himself from being assimilated and him having his pre-Nibelheim memories as well as the separate memories of Watashi is the key to defeating Watashi and stopping disaster from happening.

There are fans, me included, who are thirsty for pre-Nibelheim Sephiroth never having fallen from grace to become the villain. There are fans, again me included, who wouldn’t say no to Chaotic Neutral Sephiroth who is neither good nor evil. And then there are those fans who lose their shit at the very notion of the word “redemption” being used in the same sentence as the name Sephiroth. What if this is how we get all three?

As for what the point of divergence was for Ore, I guess it doesn’t really matter. Maybe he caught on to Hojo’s bullshit sooner and refused the Nibelheim mission because why did they need a pair of SOLDIER 1sts to fix a damn valve anyway? Maybe on his way to the library he saw the bookshelves in a certain well-appointed and well-lit study, decided to start there first and woke Vincent, who gave him the verbal smack upside the head that he badly needed at the time. Or maybe the guy in the robe in Junon really is young Sephiroth’s new surrogate dad Glenn, who universe-hopped with him, and it’s him who kept Seph on the straight and narrow all these years and helped him find information on Lucrecia. Sure, why not? He’s a Gary Stu and we all know those characters can bend time and space to do whatever they want.

Anyway, I’m off to reread this a few more times to find ways to poke holes in it. I’ll let you know what I come up with. Thank you for reading, if you did.

[pinnacle-pixel]

I don't know if the characters are on the crack I am, but this story is for shit and giggles.

But for all Gilbert lovers (me included) I have shipped them together because CYBIRD isn't giving us him. So Enjoy

:readmore:

It was supposed to be a fairly normal day for Emma when she went to Central town as she wanted some break from her normal duties (Including dealing with nerve wrecking with foreign princes). " I have been so anxious these days I might puke " Emma softly said this as she entered her paradise AKA Prince Chevalier Cool people place AKA A book store which was owned by an old friend of her. When Emma entered with a soft Hello she was greeted by her friend "HELLO EMMA!, perfect timing we have an offer for new year", Emma who took off her hat raised her eyebrow lightly, " An offer? " her friend who gestured toward stacks of books "Yep, If you buy more than a certain amount as mentioned on today's notice board, you will receive a book for free! " Emma was intrigued and went to the bookshelves after hugging her friend to wish her new year.

When Emma returned with books and the freebie book which was the book of vintage recipes, she bought this book because of it's weird but hilarious motto 'It is digestable'. She kept the books in her room and picked the recipe book to the kitchen in order to make something vintage-y but her gut feeling is never wrong, she just hoped what her gut was telling this vintage cooking will not end without an event would come frightfully true. She paced her way to the kitchen.

When she entered the kitchen there was a certain tea party trio "Good Evening Your Highnesses" Emma did her usual courtesy, "Good Evening Emma" it was Yves and Keith who were in the kitchen, "Miss Emma what kind of book do you have in your hand?" Keith got intrigued by the beautiful hardcover floral book which was held by Emma, Where she replied "I went in the town bookstore and found the book of Vintage recipe I wanted to try something from this book but I haven't gotten to see what recipe is in here", Prince Yves's face brightened in a joyous manner "Great timing we were just deciding to what to make for our snacks let's give that recipe book a try!". Emma nodded in delight and Licht made space for Emma to sit down, when she did Prince Keith handed her a glass of warm water for Emma to sip as it was cold, while Yves and Licht were flipping the book their eyebrows kept furrowing until they were a V, Emma and Keith both asked about the furrowed look on their faces, "This recipe book is..... well..... Very Interesting" Licht replied with a hand on his mouth like he was gagging "Hahaha did someone say something interesting. recipe" the four people in the kitchen flinched and suddenly it became colder they didn't had to guess whose voice was it they just turned to meet two horrors and one huge golden bell who were popular knowns As Prince Gilbert, Prince Clavis and Prince Silvio.

When Emma thought about her gut feeling she called herself an idiot for not listening to her guts, Emma stood and bowed because terror of offending them is far more greater then vomitting in front of them 'I think I need to get some stomach medicines from Sariel' as Emma thought those three approached the table and Clavis quickly picked it up with a smirk, "Let's see ..... Hmmm I think we should make this!" Clavis stopped at a certain page and Gilbert smiled "Yep this sounds tasty", Clavis showed the surrounding the book's page with said 'Potato Chocolate Cake' and Emma and Tea party Trio quickly gulped, "I remember I needed to meet Sariel regarding upcoming meeting so I will be leaving" Emma hurriedly tried to run but Gilbert's cane end touched her cheeks "Miss Rabbit don't you think leaving three foreign prince unattended isn't a good idea" Emma quickly settled back to her sit and Silvio irritation was on his face as clear as a day "Why I am with you Imma leave" and as soon as Silvio turned again Gilbert's cane hook was stucked to his collar and he was pulled "GUGH!!! HEY FUCKER DON'T TUG ON ME!!!", Silvio who managed to regain his balance got very annoyed, "Why don't you join us? it is not like you have anything to do" it was Gilbert who wore a menacing smile while Silvio Couldn't decline so he just huffed and sat beside Emma, "So what are we waiting for let's cook" as Clavis announced this he had already taken his Coat and Gloves off and taking it as signal Emma and Yves put on their aprons and started arranging ingredients, while Silvio read the recipe book "Every turn in this book seems like a left......" it was the Silvio's first reaction which Emma added "They look like all the wrong answers on a cooking exam" Licht who has been silent all the time added "Or some played roulette with the ingredients and added them", Yves only quietly nodded to which Gilbert replied "I think they are unique, don't you think Clavis?" "Oh yes they are" Clavis had an instant reply. 'OF COURSE YOU DO HELLCAT' While everyone thought this in the kitchenette no one had enough willpower or power to express there thoughts. "Let's bake cake, everyone....." It was Prince Keith's only comment to support Emma who looked like who was about to vomit.

After painful hours of baking the cake the recipe read 'Carefully decorate the cake with chocolate ganache' at this point Licht was just irritated so was silvio, Silvio who was so very annoyed said " Yeah don't wanna ruin that disaster" while he poured ganache on the cake after rolling his shirt sleeves, Emma Yves and Keith quietly nodded while arranging the table and Clavis and Licht made tea "How about we add pepper in the tea" "NO!!!!!" At Clavis's suggestion everyone screamed and startled Gilbert who dropped his Plate.

When Tea and Cake were served everyone except Prince Disaster and Hellcat had a face as green as trees, "So... let's eat" it was Emma and Keith who picked their fork up and everyone took the bite at the same time "..........." there was a complete silence for a moment "WHY THE FUCK IT IS GOOD" Silvio was the first one to break the silence with a scream and took another bite "I am questioning reality" For some reason Emma was on verge of crying and ducked her head slightly making few fragments of her hair dangling down but Gilbert tucked them behind her ear "It is quite delicious" Gilbert mood who was for some reason was way more delightful said in a gentle tone "Is my name even Licht?" without a doubt each one of them ate in confusion and decided to give cakes to the other princes, Rio and Sariel.

When Emma walked back to her room for some reason Gilbert followed her "Prince Gilbert why are you following me isn't your room in the opposite" "Isn't it obvious to stay with a person whom you like for a bit more" Gilbert pulled Emma close to him with a slight tug and revealed her back of the neck which was hidden by her just to reveal a mark, with delight he put his face close to her neck and smells delicious before lightly kissing her which made Emma tremble, it always occured to her why she couldn't push him away, seeing her in her confuse state Gilbert gently kissed her cheek and turned to his heels to return to his room. "I think I should get some heart medicines too along with stomach one's" those were Emma's last word before she returned to her room

[screechthemighty]

Didn’t wait for an answer on that one personal post, lmao. I’ve got two MarcLayla drabbles up on AO3 and you can also read them both down below! There’s more coming because I love them. AO3 link will be in a reblog.

i.

Marc was pretty light on his feet. He had a habit of moving around spaces like he was trying to avoid being noticed. It had taken her some time, and more than a few accidental jump scares, but she’d learned how to hear him coming.

Or, perhaps, he’d finally realized he didn’t have to make himself a ghost. Not around her, not in their apartment. Maybe it was a bit of both. Either way, she could hear him coming in the mornings now. She hadn’t lost that skill when they were separated.

“Morning,” Layla said. “Did  you sleep okay?”

His footsteps stopped just behind her. Before Layla could glance over her shoulder, one careful arm wrapped around her waist. When she didn’t protest, he pulled himself closer to her, wrapping both arms around her and resting his cheek against her shoulder.

“You okay?” she asked. She got a hum in response. He felt heavy against her, like something was trying to drag him down. “Not up to talking today?” Another hum, this one a bit more affirmative. “Anything you need?”

He shook his head against her back before turning his head to kiss her shoulder. It was such a warm gesture–a familiar one. One she hadn’t felt in a while.

He’s reaching out again.

Layla leaned a little closer, carefully taking one of his hands. “I’m going to finish breakfast,” she said, “and after that, we can…go back to bed? Read something, if you want?”

Marc nodded.

Quiet day in, then. Not that she minded. They hadn’t had one of those in a while. It’d be a nice change of pace.

.

He woke up to an ache in his chest and a void flooding his mouth. He knew, even before he tried, that speaking wasn’t going to happen today. He doubted much of anything was going to happen today, unless one of the others decided to step in. Seeing how Steven was finally getting a day off in the middle of the holiday rush, and Jake was coming off an overseas Khonshu job that had only been characterized as “Mardripoor >:(“ in the notebook, all signs pointed to no.

That was okay. He was getting better at resting. He could do it enough for the three of them now.

Something about seeing Layla in the kitchen, just getting coffee like nothing was wrong, reminded him of old days…simpler days. He was still hesitant to approach her; they were doing better, so much better, but he still felt like he wasn’t allowed to be doing this. Not after all the shit he’d pulled.

But she didn’t pull away. So he held her close. Pressed his face into her neck and just breathed. Let the peace and quiet of the situation settle over him. The awareness that he wouldn’t have to say a word until he was ready. Layla would understand.

She always had.

.

.

ii.

"If you're going to insist on not wearing reading glasses, will you at least let me read that to you?" Layla sat down on the couch's arm rest and stared down at Marc. "Or is it private?"

"It's just assembly instructions," Marc said, "and my eyes aren't that bad."

"Uh huh. That's why you're holding the paper at arm's length."

"I am not."

"I promise you that you are." Layla held out her hand for the instructions; Marc handed them over with only a faint sigh of complaint. "One of Steven's bookshelves finally quit on you?"

"Yeah. It was five bucks from someone's garage sale, though. Not a total loss." Marc settled down further on the couch until he was stretched out across it. "I'd try to fix it, but sometimes it's easier to just start from scratch."

Layla hummed in agreement. The instructions didn’t look too complicated, but still: “Do you want help with it?”

“Are you asking because you think I’ll need help or because you want to do something with me?”

“The second one.”

“Then yes, I would love some help with it.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you.”

Marc held out a hand to her. She took that as an invitation, moving from the arm of the couch to the couch itself, carefully arranging herself on his chest. She could still remember the first time she’d lay down on him like that. She’d been trying for “loving pestering”; she hadn’t expected him to actually like it. He’d relaxed to the point of almost falling asleep. He relaxed now, too, his heart rate slowing under her ear as she rested her head on his chest. “He’s going to start putting books in your storage space at this rate,” she said.

“Oh, it’s come up. He already knows which ones he’d put in there.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he rested his hands on her back. “You know I’m not gonna get up now.”

“Fine by me. You’re still comfortable.”

“Hmm. Glad to be of service.”

They probably weren’t going to get to that bookshelf that day. She had a feeling he actually was going to fall asleep this time.

That was okay. They had time.

[brightgnosis]

Last night my Husband and I discussed going back to the old method for housework that we used to use before and just after we got married, where he would designate 3 tasks for me a day, that he wanted to see done around the house.

I don't know why we stopped doing it. But I liked that system because it helped a lot with my executive dysfunction- especially whenever things got piled up on me. And now that it's piled up a bit again, I've noticed I'm having a hard time with my executive function and the "must do it all at once or I can't do anything at all" sort of mentality (most notably on days when I'm tired, which is a lot again after getting off the Lyrica; the only downside to removing it from my med routine so far other than the increased knee joint pain).

So I asked him for a list of tasks last night and he gave me:

Do a load of laundry (including shirts, underwear, and socks).

Pull out ground beef to defrost for dinner (and actually make dinner eventually).

Dust the bookshelves and entertainment center.

Interspersed in there, don't forget to change Whispers bandage and feed the animals

It was easy stuff. And I had all but the dusting done before noon; we spoke when I finally woke up about me not sleeping well last night and the fact that, because of it, I have a lot of muscle fatigue again today. He told me not to worry about the dusting if I didn't feel like I'd have enough energy to cook dinner.

The muscle fatigue isn't going away even with caffeine (If it's real muscle fatigue from my Fibro, then a cup of Black Tea won't do anything for me. But if it's just regular tiredness- because sometimes I have a hard time telling the difference- then the fatigue and brain fog'll usually clear up within the hour). So I decided not to do the dusting. But I did fold the pants from yesterday and actually put them in his dresser; it was something small and easy that I could sit down while doing and meant I still got three tasks done today.

Gotta love that gorgeous intersection between Autism, ADHD, and Permanent Disability, woohoo! But I'm honestly so glad he's willing to do this for me to help me out- and that we even found this method to use for when things get too overwhelming for me in the first place; I'd prolly lose my head and get nothing done at all without it sometimes, if we couldn't implement it when I needed to.