#the only reason we can have animals as companions is we spent thousands and thousands of years changing their genetic makeup and mannerisms

[grymmdark]

searched up serval cats cus i think theyre cute and silly and buncha stuff popped up about owning them as pets

[fertbutt]

I wish for all people who intentionally buy and breed wolfdogs to be torn to shreds eternally by a pack of wolves when they die and go to hell

[percontaion-points]

Everlife chapter 6

Today's review might be difficult for some; reader discretion is advised

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 6

Across the dais, a doorway forms from air, as if one layer has been peeled away from another, revealing a whole new world. Through that doorway, I see the fantastical land of the Rest, where a rainbow-colored sky glitters with thousands of stars, dinosaurs roam and peace isn’t a hope but a way of life. 

I don’t know if anybody remembers, but I said on more than one occasion in the first book of this series that seconddeath seems like a better option. So you should simply take your firstlife, and as soon as you get to wherever you end up… Take your secondlife! Because there is literally a thirdlife, apparently. 

Although this is only raising the question of exactly how far that this goes. Is there a thirddeath? A fourthlife? 

For a moment, one perfect, stolen moment of time, I think I spy the others in that small doorway. Elizabeth, a tall, slender brunette, smiles at me, content. Meredith, a petite blonde, beams at me, as if she’s proud of me. Levi, the tallest, all tanned and chiseled, nods in support.

I kind of feel like Firstking and Secondking bring somebody from this thirdlife is only setting a dangerous precedent. Why can’t they simply bring back everybody? What’s stopping them? I’d be fine if it said “We only have enough power to open the door once a year.” But it has literally never once been explained. 

Edit from the end of the chapter: I was kind of hoping that there would have been a throw-away line as mentioned before Ten left the area, but no. They can do this for everybody, but they apparently won’t. Because reasons. 

“First, put your weapons away.” We can’t hurt our own people.

Did the author forget about how Victor was signed to Trokia, yet he somehow managed to hurt everybody? 

Or is this meant like a “you SHOULDN’T hurt your own people, but you totally can.” 

“So I’m not allowed to be happy?” I demand. 

“At the expense of others? No. You’ve put us all in danger, Ten.”

 “No risk, no reward. I’m fighting for a better life. For all of us. I plan to —”

 “That’s just it,” he interjects. “You plan. But you’ve allowed no one else to make plans—protections—of their own. For all we know, you’ve kicked off a new Penumbra attack with your bond.”

I love how not one single person thinks that Ten made a good decision about Killian. 

“I didn’t mean to upset you, only wanted you to see there are risks beyond your control.”

I think the problem here is that they’ve taken a girl from an extremely abusive family background, a girl who spent the last year of her life basically living by the motto of “If I don’t put myself first, I’m literally going to die.” And now they’re asking that she basically be in charge of everybody in Troika?

Icy eyes look me over and heat. “There’s my sweet baby,” he says.

Chapter 6 summary: As you might expect, everybody is upset with Ten’s choice; not one single person is happy at all. However, Eron holds true to his promise, opens up a door to the thirdlife, where all of the seconddead characters are watching. Archer walks out. 

At this point, Lucy and Shamus start to move for Ten, but first Ten’s remaining friends show up to protect her. 

At this time, Ten also is able to communicate with Killian via their new bond. However, the way that he’s speaking to her indicates that his memories haven’t actually returned, and he’s still on a mission to send her to her seconddeath. 

Then the animals come, and quickly carry our “heroes” away. As they run, a pitbull Ten had seen at the waterfall earlier introduces himself as Biscuit, and says that he’s Ten’s animal companion. And that all of the animals around them were rejected companions from everybody else; helping Ten seems kind of like getting revenge on the people who rejected them. 

As they go, Archer chews Ten out for how her poorly-thought-out actions are now affecting EVERYBODY. He says that the bond might even be introducing the darkness sickness, Penumbra, to everybody in Troika. I said what I said about that. 

They get to an area, where Archer meets up with his new companion, a chihuahua named Beast, who says that Archer can call her “Bea”. This animal thing is seriously starting to grate on the nerves, but it is what it is. 

Anyway, Biscuit says that this is where Killian is being held, but it’s going to take a lot of time and patience to get him out. Ten goes closer, and finds Killian watching her. 

[therealvinelle]

The Cullens don’t value human life, or: Carlisle, honey, I’m so sorry

So, Carlisle is in a miserable situation.

He was forcibly turned into a vampire under traumatic circumstances, and became a cannibalistic demon. Against all odds he discovered that he didn’t actually have to kill people: however, he was still lonely. Fast forwards a few lonely years, he found a BFF and homoerotic academic in Aro, and spent decades trying to persuade him to his diet. Failed. Decided to travel the world in search of likeminded - failed.

There’s no one.

Fast forwards to 1918, Carlisle has spent centuries trying to get someone, anyone, to understand this seemingly simple concept. Don’t eat people, please, it’s literally the only thing Carlisle asks. And he’s still asking too much.

We know how history then unfolded itself - Carlisle was going to let the Masens die, as countless patients had before, and then Elizabeth Masen said “nu uh, not my son he won’t!”, and that was the kick in the butt Carlisle needed to create his own companion. Converting others had failed, but maybe a brand new vampire who has never known anything different and who looks to Carlisle for guidance will follow the diet.

And it works. Edward follows Carlisle’s diet. A few years later Carlisle repeats the experiment, now he’s in a coven of three vampires who are actually doing the diet. What a world. I’m sure he was walking around in a daze for a solid portion of that time.

The coven grows, soon Carlisle has a whole squad of vegetarians, and even a cousin squad. (Although since the Denali sister went for the diet because they wanted to have sex with the same men multiple times, I can only picture Carlisle’s delight upon finding them quickly turning into a thousand yard stare.)

Anyway, Carlisle has what he always wanted, let there be happiness galore.

Unfortunately, none of the Cullens actually care about human life.

Off the top of my head:

Edward left Carlisle for years. This by itself is a dealbreaker, he had all the love and support he could ever ask for, and turned his back on it because he’d rather kill people. Killing rapists wasn’t even his first instinct, at first he killed homeless junkies, since no one would miss them. He only turned to rapists because junkies taste awful. He turned back not because he learned the error of his ways, but because life wasn’t fulfilling. He has learned nothing: when we meet him in 2005, he would have eaten Bella and the Biology class if it weren’t for Carlisle, contemplates killing all the Quileutes, and in Volterra he would have gone on a massacre, again if it wasn’t for Carlisle. This guy doesn’t care about human life, and he never becomes a better person. He abstains from human blood for Carlisle, to feel like less of a monster, and because it plays into his superiority complex.

Esme makes it very clear she’s fine with Bella’s untimely death. She’d let Bella die to satisfy Edward’s thirst, or to keep him in Forks. Her vote for Bella to live has nothing to do with Bella, and she later gives Edward implicit approval to eat her if he wants. It’s additionally damning that Edward isn’t at all surprised by her behavior. She does the diet for her family.

Rosalie used not wanting to move to a new place and start over as an argument in favor of killing Bella. She later places her bet that Bella will be eaten in the meadow. She adheres to the diet better than anyone in the family, but she doesn’t actually care for the individual human life, not even when it’s an innocent girl. Her main reason for following the diet is that she wants to be as close to being human as possible, and maneating demon is about as far from human as you can get.

Emmet’s response to Edward having a singer is “Treat yourself, bro!” and when Bella’s becoming a vampire, he makes a bet about how many people she’ll kill. He could not care less. He follows the diet for Rosalie’s sake.

Alice lives the way she does because her visions told her that she should live with the Cullens. She cares about Bella because Bella is her barbie, and she treats her like an accessory rather than a person. When push comes to shove she brings Bella to Volterra, knowing what the Volturi do to humans who know the secret. She never appears to care about humans for the sake of humans, at one point we see her try to help Jasper control his thirst: “It helps if you think of them as people!”

Jasper’s gift is essentially a shock collar that made a human diet unsustainable for him.

Bella chooses vampirism, knowing that there’s a chance she’ll kill people. When told of Jasper and Emmet’s newborn Bella body count bet, she is not at all concerned. And the thirst is never a problem for her, she doesn’t have to struggle to stay on the diet. She eats animals because she’s a Cullen, Cullens eat animals. Duh.

(I know this is a bit reductive, I do have far more to say on each of these, but I’m trying to be a succinct person)

They’re not doing the human diet for altruistic reasons.

This is the thing that makes Carlisle a tragic character to me.

Loneliness is his whole thing, and all he ever wanted in a companion someone who shared his ideals, who would value human life as he does. What he ends up with is the Cullens, who all believe they’re amazing people for not eating people and morally superior (they won’t say it aloud, but- well they’ll absolutely say it aloud. And they do.) to other vampires, but they don’t actually care at all.

We see it in Rosalie, Emmet, and Jasper deciding to kill Bella in Midnight Sun, we see it in- well, I just wrote a bunch of examples above. We see it again and again, these people care about human life up until the second it’s inconvenient for them to do so.

And all Carlisle can do is live in intense double think denial where his family is filled with wonderful people who care about humans so much, but he also has to make them go to their victim’s funerals in a desperate, and very telling, bid to make them understand that humans are people.

The whole point of the Cullens is that after centuries of loneliness Carlisle finally has a family of vampires who share his ideals, but when they don’t actually care-

Well.

Carlisle, honey, I’m so sorry.

[renjunbae]

resurface; kim jungwoo.

synopsis : all you had wanted was a quiet summer by the beach to relax, escape the oppressiveness of the city, and get your mind off of your last disastrous relationship, but apparently peace was hard to come by, especially when a figure from your past reappears unexpectedly in your life.

pairing : kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre : beach resort au, university au, romance, fluff

warnings : (very) mild profanities

length : 7.1k

soundtrack : let me drown - deanz ft. andy delos santos; u n eye - boy in space; sun goes down - aiyo

author's note : this is part of the ot23 "resonance beach" collab hosted by @amorajae. thank you so much for letting me participate & go check out the collab masterlist for more addicting summer reads!

Socializing had never been so suffocatingly painful and pretentious.

Clinking champagne glasses, aimless mingling and a forever unending charade of polite smiles that never quite reached one’s eye, they surrounded you like a shroud that made it hard to breathe, a shirt that was too tight and biting uncomfortably at the neck. Much like the very dress you were wearing at the moment; form-fitting, over-the-top fancy, and narrow in all the spots you hated.

Oh, how you wished to change out of it all. Rip off the structured binds around your entire being, take off and away from the repetitive scene that had become more frequent over the past weeks and the main cause of your headaches. But there was nothing you could do about it except stare uselessly at the clock as its hands ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you hated that fact more than anything else.

“Well then, it has been lovely to meet you, Miss (Y/N). I can see that your parents have done an excellent job raising such an elegant and well-mannered young lady.” The concluding words, along with an outstretched hand, snapped you out of your misery and forced your attention back to the middle-aged man before you. Already, you were struggling to recall his name from the brief—or was it excruciatingly long?—introduction he’d done when he sought to strike a conversation with you twenty minutes earlier. Was he a superior of your father’s? Or maybe a recent acquaintance of your mother’s? You didn’t know, nor cared, really. After two hours of entertaining your parent’s countless associates with answers to their onslaught of questions about which college you attended and other various aspects of your personal life, you no longer had much energy left to spare for further pretense.

For the entirety of the exchange, you’d somehow gotten by with absentminded nods and murmured agreements. Thankfully, your latest companion was too immersed in his tales to notice your drifting focus and lack of interest, at which you almost heaved a sigh of relief. If your parents had received word of your misbehavior, you’d be a goner for sure, and you certainly were not looking forward to another round of their droning lecture about mannerism, etiquette, and public image.

“It was nice meeting you too,” you managed to return with a smile that was just about passable for being semi-enthusiastic, though inside, you were cringing hard at your poor attempts of keeping up the graciously civilized front your mother had always insisted for you to display in public. Forget the crowded dinner parties, forget the fancy evening galas, with every passing minute you were closer to less than a hair’s breadth away from plopping down on the nearest sofa and calling it quits. But you retained your composure and made sure to wave politely as the man stepped away, only letting out a long-held breath after his figure had completely disappeared amidst the crowd.

The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, and your desire to leave was ever growing as you struggled to get through the throng of chattering bodies for some space alone. Sure, you’d been at a number of clubs and parties with your friends, but they were always on the more laid back and easygoing side of the atmosphere spectrum. You didn’t have to put up a perfect front for others to examine, nor be pressured to uphold your entire family’s reputation. And you certainly wouldn’t be obliged to answer your mother’s calls from ten feet away, beckoning you over to no doubt meet another friend of hers.

It was all the same, over and over. Introductions, small talk, and then going into the personal life of the (L/N)s’ “all grown up” daughter.

“Neo Tech University? The top school in the area? How nice!”

Your father beamed proudly. “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”

The adults laughed. You didn’t join them, instead picking at the fabric of your gown until the conversation required your participation again.

“She’s matured so much, I bet she has all the boys at her heels already,” The lady commented, to which your mom immediately responded with a pleased smile and, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend too. They’re soo cute together. Hey, honey, how come he hasn’t come around in a while?”

God, why? Why, of all things, did they have to bring this up? You felt your insides squeezing together painfully at the mention of the topic, your fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin. You’d thought this night couldn’t get any worse than it already was, but you were wrong, it just did. Their gazes were all set on you expectantly, and you hated the attention. Hated being the focus of the conversation and picked apart to the seams.

“We broke up,” you said eventually, avoiding your parents’ eyes.

Your mother's smile fell away to an expression of shock and disbelief. “Why? I thought you two were doing so well with each other.”

Yeah, we were, before he cheated on me, you were tempted to say. To firmly erase any of your mother’s misconceptions that she had even a single idea of what was going on in her daughter’s life. But you just shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was only a trivial matter. If you’d told them the truth, your mother would’ve no doubt considered it a huge blow to her reputation.

“It’s alright, you’ll find someone else who’s worthy of you,” the lady patted your shoulder sympathetically, and you felt your face heat up in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. The last thing you needed was someone telling you that in public.

You figured this was a good time to leave, maybe dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Tonight had been a suitable enough reason. Murmuring a quick apology to the adults, you excused yourself and made your way toward the exit before your mother could intercept. People stared as you passed, but at this point, their hypercritical looks were the least of your concerns. If grown-up life was beyond the point of “childishness” and “selfish acts”, then you’d grown beyond the point of caring.

By the time you’d arrived home, it was already ten o’clock. You and your parents had left for the gala around six-thirty, which meant you’d spent at least a good three hours and a half at the venue, engaging in hollow, repetitive conversations with near strangers. It was exhausting, to say the least, and you found yourself craving a warm bath the moment you stepped through the door. But you had your priorities set straight, and after changing into some casual clothing, you made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself a pot of ramen. You were practically starving after almost an entire night of strolling around and snacking only on lady-like portions of foreign delicacies at the event.

While the water boiled, you dialed your best friend’s number. She’d told you of her plans—or the lack thereof—this evening, consisting of nothing but binge watching anime and consuming an inhumane amount of triple chocolate fudge ice cream. That was basically an open invitation for you to call her whenever you felt like ranting about old men and how it just wasn’t fair no one else was obligated to chat for hours on end with them about stock market prices, and you accepted it gladly.

Yera picked up on the second ring. True to her word, you could hear the incoherent Japanese shouting of the characters in whatever anime she was binging at the moment.

“How did it go? The gala?”

Just the sound of her voice was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your best friend always knew what to say and how to lift your spirits in times like this, no matter how blunt and straightforward she may be, and you were looking forward to her advice.

“Terrible,” you groaned. “Whoever came up with the idea of stuffing over two hundred boring, judgmental business people in a room far too bright and oxygen-lacking must’ve been out of their mind.”

You heard Yera snort from the other side of the line. “Yeah, no shit, sherlock. You know, I’d reassure you it’s not that bad, but I know it’s exactly that bad.”

You shifted your position so that you faced the kitchen window, where a view of the city’s nightscape unfolded before your eyes. The sky was dark, but thousands of glimmering lights made up for it—neon billboards, cars flying by on the busy streets below, office lightings, roadside lamps, and glowing patches of yellow from residential buildings like your own. You stared out at the sea of twinkling sparks, and for a moment, felt so very small amidst the immensely vast world.

“They mentioned him.”

There was only a beat of silence. Yera didn’t need long to catch onto who you were referring to.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they were talking about boys and then my mom brought up the fact that I have a boyfriend—had, actually,” you sighed, an action you found occurring more often than not lately. “Guess I forgot to tell them he’s an ex now, but then again, they didn’t ask before.”

“Gosh, that must’ve been so awkward.”

“It was,” you shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your forefingers. “You tell me. I had to leave, right away. I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on. How many of these event thingies have you gone to in the past week?”

“Three, not counting the time my mom had some friends over for lunch. They stayed until dinner, actually, and we had to go out and eat.”

“What the heck?? And you let them drag you along?”

“It’s my duty to accompany them, I guess. They’d be mad if I don’t go and let them show me off for a bit. But then again, there usually aren’t this many events. My dad just signed a contract with some important clients, and my mom’s been invited to a bunch of social gatherings, plus the fact that normally, I’d have school as an excuse. There’s just been more of them recently, and it’s not like I have any good enough reason to opt out.”

Yera gasped. “It’s summer. Summer!! That’s all they should need. It’s summer break right now and it’s your time off. They shouldn’t need any more reason than that. And whether it’s the norm or not, you have to know that you are in charge of yourself and that you get to decide what you do with your own life, not them.”

“You have a point, Yera, you always do, but...” you shook your head. “I honestly don’t know at this point. Things are easier said than done. I hate it all, but in a way, it’s part of my responsibility.”

“Okay, oookay. That’s it. No more dinner parties or rich people galas for you, (Y/N). It’s your time off and I’m going to make sure you take some time off. Aren’t you tired of them ordering you around? You’re the one who’s in control of your own life, (Y/N). Go have a nice vacation and stay away from adult business for at least a few weeks, or I’m not letting you anywhere near my mom’s homemade honeycomb brownies again, got it?”

If Yera was bringing her mother’s brownies into the deal, then you knew she was serious. Somehow, despite the situation, you almost felt like laughing. Felt like you were invincible, as if her words brought a surge of confidence along with it. Smiling up at the night sky, you said, “Well, I guess I have to do it for those brownies.”

“Good, now go on and take on the world!”

The world—or, namely, your parents—was clearly not amused when you dragged your suitcase into the living room at eight in the morning the next day, dressed in a flowery blouse, your favorite jean shorts, and a pair of heeled sandals. They’d been eating breakfast at the dining table just ten paces across as you entered, engrossed in a conversation about the latest commercial trends and news of the business world. They looked up at the sound of wheels against the marbled floor, an initial expression of shock crossing their faces as they took in your outfit and the luggage in your hands.

Your father looked almost bewildered as he glanced between you and your mother, who’s brows had deepened into a frown. She shook her head as if to clear away thoughts of disbelief, though you could detect the note of disapproval that was weaved into the action.

“What’s with this?” she asked, her tone stern and commanding, almost as if to compel you into saying exactly what she wanted: “Nothing, mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had always been that way. You’d intend to do something, and she’d shut you down before you could even try. But not this time.

“Carrying out my plans for summer break,” you replied and paused before continuing. “Why?”

The lines on your mother’s forehead deepened. “Plans?”

She was waiting for you to either straight up admit what you were up to or give up. You knew that, and you didn’t want to beat around the bush either, so you looked her right in the eyes and said, “Summer vacation plans, mom. I’m leaving today.”

“(Y/N), I thought we already talked about this. You can’t just—”

“Go around and quit my duties? Yeah, I know.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not quitting,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m taking the break that I deserve.”

“You’re running away,” your mother accused, her voice trembling with incredulity and, despite her apparent effort to keep it controlled, a slight hint of anger. “You’re going back on your promise and you’re not going to do what you should just because you don’t want to. Stop being so selfish and naive, (Y/N). You’re not a child anymore.”

It was something just suddenly snapped inside you, and all your pent up frustration boiled over. “Selfish? Mom, do you ever think about how I feel? I’ve put up with all the things you wanted me to do and I can’t even have a single moment when I try to focus on my own happiness for once?”

“You promised—”

“I’m not a replacement for him!”

Your parents stared, momentarily speechless from your outburst. In the silence, you felt the frustration and anger wear away and bubble down to something that resembled a fevered hurt. The broken pain in your mother’s face seemed to mirror your own, but the words slipped out anyway.

“No matter what, I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. I know that’s what you want me to be, and that if I was, maybe you could think that he’s never gone, but I can’t. I just…”

You could see that your comments had hit their mark.“(Y/N)—” your mother started.

But at this point, you were too tired of arguing to continue. You didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, only picked up your bags and headed for the entranceway. You exhaled as the door clicked shut behind you. Gosh, I’m really going to do this, am I?

Resonance Beach Resort was a nice change from the usual fast-paced schedule of your daily life that was full of unwanted obligations and tasking duties. You'd visited often in your early childhood and teenage years, and had loved the place for its elegant, luxurious accomodations and the spectacular view of a pristine beach that spanned along the resort's outer edge. But since some time ago, all the pressure and weight of your increasing responsibilities had suddenly just came crashing down on you, and you found yourself taking cram school more often than not due to your parents' constant urging. There just simply wasn't any time for you to take the long vacation you desperately craved. Now that things have finally lessened up to nothing but socializing with your parents' acquaintances, this was the first place you'd thought of for the perfect getaway. Just hide away from the rest of the world for a little bit before reality kicks in and you'd sink back into your busying routine. Here, you could finally have some peace and quiet, be able to breathe easier for once. No more business events or get-togethers, no more forced polite conversations over tall glasses of champagne. If you were going to party, then you should at least do it properly. You figured that aside from relaxation and watersports, Resonance Beach Resort had exactly that.

You'd switched over to your spare phone for the duration of your stay. If your parents decided they've had enough of your “childishly selfish acts”, they'd be greeted by a long period of ringing without answer, followed by an irksome beep and the message that, "sorry, the number you've dialed is not available".

The fight still simmered fresh at the front of your mind, and you shook your head in an attempt to brush it away. A small part of you felt almost guilty about your abruptly impromptu runaway, but it was merely a fleeting thought that passed as quickly as it had come. You knew how hard it was for your parents since what had occurred years ago, and that they were afraid of the same thing happening with you. Still, it wasn’t fair for you to bear the burden of two and act in as a mere substitute only to make someone else feel a bit better. Since when did you owe your parents your entire summer break to play pretend anyways? It isn't as if it actually helped you do anything except feed your growing boredom and frustration for hours on end.

You walked into the entrance hall and made your way to the reception area that sat in the middle of the gentle hum of music and red carpets and golden chandeliers. After going through the check-in process, you received your room cards and headed toward your room to drop off your luggage first.

The west-side elevator was mainly empty aside from a few other visitors who, like you, arrived earlier than most do. They’d entered before you and stood along the side panels, each scrolling through their devices for news and texts. Why take the time and money to come and visit, you wondered, if they were going to just be on their phones all the time? But then again, you were glad none of them paid any attention to you and savored the peaceful silence. The back of the elevator was adorned with clear glass panes that overlooked the beachside, allowing riders to gaze out at the scenery below them as they rose high above ground. You stared at the swaying palms and foaming waves in the distance, and thought that—despite being here so many times before—the view had never looked so welcoming before. You couldn’t wait until you could get down there and enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your back, hear nothing but the calming hum of the ocean.

There was a short ding! as the elevator doors opened and a middle-aged woman exited. You turned briefly to watch her leave and the doors clang shut once more behind her. Some passengers shifted around to space themselves more evenly upon her departure, but other than that, it was the same, still, silence as before. A few more minutes passed, and the process repeated until it was just you and another man standing by the front. On the controls panel, only one floor button was lit up.

He was handsome in the most traditional sense, tall and fit with tousled dark hair, flawlessly smooth skin and wide doe eyes directed at his phone screen. Although he was only dressed in a simple graphic tee and sweatpants, they looked too expensive for the average person to afford and the look suited him so well he could no doubt pass for the modern-day version of Cinderella’s Prince Charming. You almost laughed at the thought. That had been your reaction too when you first saw your ex, and you fell for him so quickly, so easily, it didn’t take much to convince you that he loved you as much as you loved him. After all, why not? His family had been wealthy and influential like your own, and your parents—mostly your mom—had absolutely adored him. You thought you’d been living the perfect fantasy until it all broke down and your palace had turned into nothing more than rubble and ashes.

In the quiet buzz of the elevator, you could hear as the stranger dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. Whoever on the other side must’ve answered immediately, because the man started to talk right away.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

“Okay, just checking that you’re in the suite because I don’t have the key.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, why?”

“Woo wants another bag of his favorite chips from the convenience store? Seriously? We’re at a fancy beach resort and he wants chips from the convenience stores? God.”

“Yeah, I brought them, don’t worry. I swear he stuffed my trunk full of them when I wasn’t looking because I barely even have space in there anymore. Geez, you’d think he would die if he went a day without those.”

“Yeah, okay. Mm-hmm. That’s fine by me. Sounds fun. See you.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but the slight echo in the space made it easy for you to hear every word the man said. And for some reason, it brought back long-ago memories of you and your brother, having the time of your lives marveling over the elevator’s view. Arguing about whose snacks the ones in the bag were. Roaming around the resort like it was your own home. That wasn’t possible now, of course. He was farther away than ever, and happier. There wasn’t anything you could do except be happy for him, though that did nothing to help the sore ache in you.

Your entire life felt like a train wreck at the moment, but then again, that was why you were here at Resonance Beach Resort in the first place. And as the elevator dinged once more, you were determined to make your summer better. Much better.

An afternoon in the sun seemed to do its trick.

After spending several hours out by the rolling waves, reading magazines and enjoying the spontaneity of doing whatever you’d wanted to on a whim, you were ready to call it a day. The freedom was exhilarating, and though you’d done much less that you would’ve on a typical weekday, you felt much more fulfilled than before. You’d eaten a quick informal dinner down in the dining hall, too tired to spend time on a full-course meal, only stopping by the vending machine on your way back to your room for a drink.

You inserted your money into the slot, pausing for a moment to look at your choices. Ginger ale would be good, you decided absentmindedly, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. When the drink rolled out of the machine, you stooped to pick it up before preparing to leave. You turned and, not realizing there was someone behind you, ran right into them, your arm bumping against theirs. The impact knocked the can of ginger ale out of your hands and you quickly bent down to pick it up before it could roll away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

You straightened up to see the man from the elevator. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his face. He was close enough that you could see the curved bow of his lips and the way his eyes crinkled in good humor, the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment at having knocked into you.

You blushed at the close proximity between you and the stranger, before remembering your manners and shaking your head lightly, “No, I’m sorry, it was my fault as well. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or what to do, until the man’s eyes landed on the room card in your hand.

“Suite 1009? What a coincidence, my friends and I are right next door. Want me to walk you back since we’re—you know—going the same way?”

You gave a little startled laugh, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that even a man as good-looking and confident-seeming as him could stumble over his words in situations like this. You’d pegged him for the type with an air of arrogance, but his voice held a sort of genuine sincerity and modesty along with the charm you’d expected. “Of course, I’d love that.”

As you walked down the corridor together, he seemed to realize something, and started in surprise, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

“Well, yes, my friends and I were planning to go somewhere for the summer, and one of my friends recommended this resort. How did you tell?”

“I used to come here a lot, but I haven’t visited in a while. I came back to escape city life, I guess, though I must admit I missed this place tons. The things adult life takes away from you are just plain cruel.”

“I know right? Sometimes I wish I could just go back to seventeen and—”

“Relive that teenage dream?” you finished.

He laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“What, don’t you agree?” he looked at you in feigned shock.

You looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer in the lights above. “Yes,” you said truthfully, “I do agree.” Though it wasn’t exactly how you felt completely all the time, there was no denying that at least you’d loved the various aspects teenage years had to offer.

“You sound almost cynical about it.”

“Do I?” you shook your head. “Oh, well, personally, maybe, I guess?”

He gave you a weird look. “Think you could sound any more unsure about that?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls of the hallway. As you chatted with Jaehyun, there was an undeniable tingle at the bottom of your stomach, spreading to the tips of your finger and your rosy cheeks. You didn’t know if you were willing to fall in love again, especially after your previous failures and bad encounters in romance that extended beyond your last relationship, but there was no denying that Jaehyun was fun to be around and you enjoyed his company immensely.

So when you both arrived at your destinations, you almost felt sorry to go. You lingered for a second, turning to him almost hesitantly.

Of course you’d see him again, being next-door neighbors for the next few weeks or so, as long as he’s here, but you didn’t want to leave and be all alone by yourself just yet.

Jaehyun seemed to feel the same, and he paused. “So, see you soon?”

You started to respond with a definite yes, but didn’t get a chance to answer. The door next to yours opened slightly, and some inaudible conversing trickled out from the crack. You caught a few words in the back-and-forth as you stood by your room, an amused smile at your lips. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, clearly used to this type of behavior from his friends.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re always like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “They seem fun to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah, when they’re not nagging twenty-four-seven at me to get snacks for them.” Though you could see by the teasing grin on his lips that he was only kidding.

Jaehyun’s friend pushed the door open a little more so that the conversation became more distinctable. And then, a sudden recognition made you freeze in your tracks. Your heart dropped. No. No way. The smile fell from your lips, replaced with a rush of confusion and near-disbelief.

Was that…?

You heard his voice before you saw him.

“Jaehyun! You’re back, just in time—”

Brown hair, plump lips, and bright, playful eyes. His boyish features evolved into something more mature but not unlike its younger version, still lined with the same youthful innocence as years before. He was taller too, though in that moment, at first glance, you felt as if it was the only significant change in him. The familiarity jolted awake a feeling you had not felt since long ago, flipping back the pages of yesterday until it landed on a distant memory that seemed so close yet was so far away. It was like the world stopped spinning for a moment, freezing in time that had both given and taken so much from you.

Your stomach twisted with a mixture of fluttering anticipation and dizzy uncertainty.

Why here, of all times and places, did you have to meet Kim Jungwoo again?

Kim Jungwoo, who was your first love, but also your first heartbreak.

It all started the summer before your high school sophomore year, with an ice cream date as friends and a piggy back ride. You and Jungwoo had known each other for years, having met in elementary and developing a close bond over time. Though you each had your own separate friend groups, outside of school, the two of you often hung out together and spent time at each other’s houses. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have dinner at Jungwoo’s place—because your parents often went on business trips and rarely ever cooked even when they were home—and it certainly wouldn’t be a strange sight to see him on your couch, watching TV and snagging snacks from the basket on the coffee table as he waited for you to finish up your homework so the two of you could go out to the nearby park. It was practically routine when, two weeks after break began, he asked you if you wanted to go down to the beach with him and get some ice cream along the way. You texted back a quick “yes, of course” before flopping back onto your bed and blinking up at the ceiling as if in a dazed dream. And for some reason, you thought hard about what to wear.

It was an issue you never had to concern yourself with before. Jungwoo had seen you in your pajamas, bed hair and all, random mismatching clothes you’d thrown on in a hurry, and even ridiculous costumes you wore as a kid. He’d seen you down in your lowest low, face a mess with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Heck, he probably knew all your embarrassing moments by heart and could recite them on a whim. But recently, you’d started to feel more self-conscious around him, and as days passed, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror more and more, holding up different tops and pants in an attempt to decide which would look nicer. A few years ago, you would’ve laughed at the thought. You? Fussing over clothing for Jungwoo’s sake? Ridiculous, you’d never needed to. But now, it seemed that the fact that he was a boy—and a very attractive one too—just sank in, and suddenly you became all too aware of it.

After shuffling through your wardrobe for ten full minutes, you finally ended up with a closet strewn messily with discarded options and clothing racks and an outfit you dimly recalled that Jungwoo had once expressed his liking for. You’d chosen a pair of thin, spaghetti sandals that were lined with gold, a gift from one of your mother’s shopping sprees, and made an effort to brush your hair neatly to go along with it all. Good enough, you supposed, as you turned left and right to check up on your appearance. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone and keys, scribbled a note for your parents that you doubted they’d even read, and made your way out the door. Jungwoo was waiting for you at the front, standing casually by his car with one hand in his pockets. Your heart beat faster as you approached, the continuous drumming resonating within your chest and ears.

He’d been looking down at the pavement, scuffling a stray pebble around with his toes, but quickly lifted his head at your footsteps.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling up at you.

“Wow, looking unexpectedly grown-upish today,” you lifted an eyebrow, trying to mask your nervousness in his presence with the usual snarky remarks. You spoke with a heavy hint of sarcasm, meaning that you were only joking about the matter, but what you said was true in a way—Jungwoo did look nice, though you weren’t about to say that aloud to him. It was as if you’d just noticed how much older he’d become, and how much more matured he looked.

“Really,” he said flatly, though his eyes were crinkled in good humor. “You’re the only one in the dark then.”

You laughed. “Because other people still call you an adorable baby?”

“Haha, so funny.”

You settled into the passenger seat beside Jungwoo and watched as he leaned over to put the vehicle in ignition. His hair had grown longer since his last haircut a few months ago, and they fell over his eyes. He shook them out of his face, reaching up a hand to brush away any remaining strands that stuck to his skin. He turned to grin at you before switching over to your favorite radio station as he started to drive. You tapped your fingers to the beat, and not a minute later, the two of you were singing along to the familiar tune. Jungwoo’s voice soared up and down as he sang in a weird mock accent, and you tried hard to keep your own from trembling with uncontrollable laughter. You both knew that Jungwoo was an amazing singer, but even more so a natural at comedy.

Jungwoo parked the car a few blocks away, deciding that trying to find an open spot in the crowded beachside lots was too much of a hassle. Summer had lured many people out with the promise of good weather, and combined with the dazzling scenery of the sea, who was to say no? The brightness of the skies was all too infectious, your mood soaring like the winds above that cast a blessing of gentle coolness upon the world. It was all so perfect that you’d even surrendered to Jungwoo in a water fight, although quite begrudgingly and continuing to splash in his way afterwards.

The sparkling waterdrops glittered midair like multifaceted diamonds so that although knee deep in water, you felt almost as if you were living in the midst of a glowing fairytale. After spending some time among the rolling waves, the two of you decided to walk around a bit and let the warm air dry your clothes before going to the ice cream store. Morning went by all too quickly, and soon noon had arrived. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, the pavement burning at the soles of your shoes. You grimaced at the heat, hopping slightly to avoid getting scalded and wishing you’d worn something that wasn’t so flimsy and thin. Jungwoo seemed to notice your discomfort, glancing your way worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you groaned. “But thanks for your concern.”

He stopped as if to consider something, then squatted down in front of you. “Here.”

“What—” you started in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden action.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but you swear it just did.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. It’s my fault anyways. I should’ve worn something more suitable,” you managed.

He grinned up at you. “Yeah, you probably should’ve, but that's what I’m here for, right? Moral and well—physical—support when you make those beginner mistakes.”

“Argh, you bastard,” you half-huffed, half-laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly with one hand.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help here.”

Caught up in the slight back-and-forth, you’d forgotten entirely about the source of it all and let out a strangled gasp when a red-hot pain shot up your feet.

“Yeah, it’s not up for debate at this point. Come on, just get on already. Grab on tight.”

With surprising strength, Jungwoo hoisted you up upon his back, his arms wrapped firmly around your legs to secure you in place. Instinctively, you reached over to cling onto his neck like your life depended on it.

“Gosh, not—this—tight,” he choked out, and although you knew he was half-joking, you mumbled a laughing apology.

You were tense at first, afraid to make a single wrong move. But after a while, you felt tired of staying so still and uptight like a board and relaxed some more. When the sun’s rays stung at your eyes, you laid your head sideways against Jungwoo’s neck, your breaths falling together in the same even rhythm. He hummed a tune you did not recognize, probably another one he’d just made up randomly, and you smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you replied innocently. Just thinking how ridiculously likeable you are.

You wondered if Jungwoo could feel, through the thin fabric of your shirt, the pounding of your heart at his back, the same way you could smell the scent of the salty sea air and his favorite cologne on him. Raising a fingertip, you traced a heart lightly against his skin. He flinched. You held back a laugh. You’d done it right on his most ticklish spot.

He wouldn’t be able to tell, what you’d drawn and what you felt toward him, but at that moment, it felt like a nice secret, nestled comfortably within the confines of your heart. Maybe you’d tell him one day, when the time is right. You’d like to.

The ice cream shop of Jungwoo’s designation was just up the street. Apparently, it had opened just a while ago and, according to Jungwoo, he was dying for you to try some of their flavors. You didn’t have a favorite place you preferred, so you agreed without any conflict. As the two of you neared, you held on for just a little bit longer before hopping off reluctantly and fixing your clothes. You wished it didn’t have to end, that the two of you could stay that way forever, snug in each other’s embrace.

But it all changed when you walked inside the store.

The interior was neatly organized, with pastel-colored walls and light brown tables of different sizes scattered around the semi-spacious room, most of them occupied by other visitors. A long counter spanned the back of the shop, most of it built-in glass cases that displayed a colorful array of ice cream in their silver tubs. A couple workers stood behind it in sky-colored uniforms, occupied with a variety of tasks and tending to customers.

You breathed in softly, taking in the scent of chocolate and vanilla and an assortment of fruit. The air around you was cool, and you were immensely grateful for the air conditioners that made the atmosphere so welcoming after spending a long time in the sweltering sun.

“It’s nice here.”

“I know right?” Jungwoo grinned. “Just wait until you taste their ice cream. It’s the best.”

There was quite a line at the counter, and your skin itched with the particles of sand that had stuck to it uncomfortably. Your hair was wind-blown and a tangled mess atop your head, and you felt conscious of the fact that you probably looked like a mess. “Hey, Woo, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he gave you a thumbs-up. “I’ll pick out something for you. I swear you’ll love it.”

“Okay, thanks,” you laughed. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

After fixing up your hair and wiping yourself clean with a paper towel, you felt semi-presentable and headed out of the restrooms to find Jungwoo. You didn’t see him at the tables nor in the line, but in the close distance, almost hidden from view the rest of the shop but clearly visible from where you were standing, caught your attention.

Jungwoo.

Except he wasn’t alone.

A pretty girl around your age stood by him, donning the uniform of the store workers. She seemed to have just gotten off her shift and was loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d previously kept it in. Jungwoo was chatting animatedly, and she laughed at something he said, then shot back with her own response. He reached over and engulfed her in his arms, swaying her from side to side almost exaggeratedly.

There was a familiarity, closeness, in the way they interacted, and as you watched on, you felt your heart slowly clench tighter and tighter until it felt impossibly suffocating. Was this what heartbreak felt like? An ache so terrible and soul-splitting that you couldn’t quench no matter how hard you tried.

At the side counter, they were still going at it. He grabbed at her to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, pushing herself out of his grasp. He made a few more futile attempts, to no avail, and the two of them burst out laughing, her high, lovely one mixing in with his lower, boyish baritone.

You looked down, and wished you could just disappear into a hole. When you returned to the table after you made sure the commotion in the front had died down, Jungwoo was already waiting with the ice cream. One for him and the other, your favorite favor. He handed yours to you, but you found that you didn’t have the appetite for it anymore. You managed to muster up a feeble “thanks” and a strained smile, staring at the cone in your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see Jungwoo’s expression, but you could hear the concern lacing his voice. As if he wasn’t laughing so merrily just a second ago.

“Nothing,” you replied, staring at the table. “I should probably go now. My parents said we were going out for lunch today.”

“But you said you didn’t have any plans,” Jungwoo said, confused.

“Well,” you shrugged, “It’s really my mom’s. Anyways, see you later.”

The bell jangled behind you as you exited the shop, the sound not as cheerful as it had been just a while before. A rush of hot air greeted you, but the stinging at your feet could no longer compare to that of the pain in you.

“Oh, okay. See you.” You could still hear his disappointed voice, although you couldn’t fathom just why he wouldn’t be glad to have some time with his girlfriend without you there as an awkward third-wheeler.

You didn’t see Jungwoo again that summer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

thanks for reading! send an ask or comment to be in taglist for upcoming chapters!

[sauntered-vaguely-downward]

Maybe it is Love? Geralt x Reader

So... lockdown going well... here have some smut for Geralt because while I cant literally fuck the witcher... I can at least write shitty fanfic about fucking him in these dark times. Also this is kinda long so........ sorry. 

Warnings: SMUT DONT READ THIS IF YOU ARE NOT OF AGE IN YOURE COUNTRY (OR JUST DONT LIKE SMUT)

“To be honest, I’m choosing not to listen to you.” Geralt grunted, keeping his eyes focused on Jaskier in front of him, drinking the ale from his cup.

“Why won’t you just let me help! For fuck sake Geralt, you’ll happily have me follow you around but god forbid you would ever let me actually be part of the action,” she all but screamed at him. “Your bard has been involved in more fights than me and unlike him, I don’t scream when monsters come running at me.”

“I do not scream,” Jaskier tried to protest only to be cut off by the pair saying in unison,

“Yes, you do.” Jaskier having been put in his place once again by the pair settled back into his seat, listening to an argument that he had heard a thousand times before at this point. It always happened after Geralt had a run-in with a monster. Geralt would make sure Y/N was out of harm's way, claiming she was far too delicate to be involved in such matters, he would then kill the beast on his own and spend the rest of his days following his fight with whatever monster it may be arguing with Y/N. No matter how much she protested Geralt would never give in and let her learn how to help him.

“Y/N,” Geralt sighed, putting his ale down before focusing his attention on her. “I do not say it to be harsh, but the simple fact is you do not have the skills to even begin learning how to defend yourself against any of the beasts that roam the earth. You have no experience, you were just a silly little girl I let come with us because you refused to go back to your boring life in that sodding village we found you in, not because I wanted you here. You shouldn’t even be here. Stop pestering me about it or you can go back to that fucking village, you know what, maybe that would be best anyway, you are of no help to either of us here.”

Y/N’s chest hurt a little at the words that fell from his lips. She knew he was right, but she thought that after the time they had spent together he would perhaps have grown to see her at least as a friend and want her to stay by his side even just for the company. Every time they had this argument it had usually just ended up with him making an empty promise about helping her learn to defend herself, but this time it got more personal. She hated thinking that she was nothing more than an annoyance to Geralt, she only wanted to learn to defend herself so he wouldn’t have to if she learnt to fight she could try her best and keep him safe just as he did for her.

Rising from her seat she brushed herself down, downed the last of her ale before making her way up to her room in the inn in which they were staying that night. She didn’t wish to continue this conversation, nor did she wish to be around either of them anymore.

Geralt ignored her departure from their table in the tavern, finishing off his ale and ordering another. Jaskier, on the other hand, watched as she walked through the crowded tavern, her usually cheerful spirit seemingly destroyed.

“You’re a dick you know that?” Jaskier spat at Geralt.

“I only spoke the truth, not my fault if she couldn’t handle it,” Geralt replied, his tone remaining as even as it always did.

“Oh, so you’re a liar and a dick?”

“A liar?”

“Yes! You know full fucking well that you don’t want her to go anywhere! You like having her around as much as you like having me around!”

“I don’t much like that either,” Geralt hummed.

“Oh shut up. You should go say sorry,” Jaskier said, sipping at his drink. “You like travelling with her. I’ve seen the way you look at her when she dances drunkenly in the bars, or the smile on your face when she stands up for you, or the bigger smile on your face when she stands up for herself. For pity's sake, you even let her sit on Roach when she’s tired of walking, I’m not even allowed to touch the bloody horse let alone ride it.”

“Fine, I like her company, but she cannot be put in harm's way,” Geralt said more quietly than usual. If it was possible for his voice to ever be considered soft, now would be one of those times. “I won’t allow her to train if it means it will put her in danger's path, I want to keep her safe not help send her to an early grave.”

“Oh oh oh…” Jaskier grinned, leaning back in his chair. “If it wasn’t for the fact you’re a witcher and supposedly not able to love… I’d say you’ve fallen for our feminine companion.”

“Be quiet,” Geralt barked.

“No,” Jaskier grinned back smugly. “You like her, that’s why you don’t want her hurt. You know shes capable but you’re scared of losing her aren’t you. My my, the mighty witcher has fallen for a normal village girl.”

Geralt kept silent, staring into the dark ale in the cup in his hands. Jaskier was sadly correct. Geralt knew she was able to learn to at least wield a sword, but Geralt wouldn’t let her do it because he was scared, he didn’t know what he felt for her, but he knew it was more than he an emotionless witcher was ever meant to feel.

He had only originally kept her around because much like the bard, she seemed adamant to stay regardless of whether he wanted her there or not. As she travelled more with him, Geralt found her presence a comfort to return to after he had wrestled with the beasts and monsters. Whether they were in some crappy inn, or under the stars in the night sky, every night they spent together, just enjoying each others company, listening to the bard strum at his lute, Geralt found himself getting lost in the joy that radiated off of her or the beauty that covered every inch of her.

Jaskier’s voice brought Geralt back to the tavern they were in.

“You need to apologise, she seemed really hurt by what you said.” Jaskier was, sadly, correct. As much as Geralt hated admitting to being in the wrong, he knew it was best he went and say sorry for his harsh and false words.

“Fine,” getting up Geralt made followed the path she had taken out of the tavern, stopping only once when he heard the bard shout,

“YOU SHOULD ALSO TELL HER HOW YOU FEEL!” To which Geralt found the nearest empty glass and hurled it at the bards head, narrowly missing, before continuing out towards the inn just a few doors down.

When he found her room he was hesitant to knock on the door, knowing the woman behind it would be hurting. With a gentle knock, he waited patiently for her to open it.

“Jaskier if that’s you I’m really not in the mood to talk right now ok…” opening the door Y/N was surprised to see Geralt at her door. Geralt wasn’t exactly the check on her when she was down kind of man. Still hurting from his comments, she snapped at him, “What the fuck do you want witcher?”

“Please let me in so I can apologise,” he pleaded, something he was not used to doing. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings, nor did I mean those words that I said.”

She studied him for a moment, taking great interest in his face, checking to see if he was lying to her. When she didn’t detect any hint of sarcasm or the trace of a lie she stepped back, allowing him into her room.  

Geralt was a little taken back by the sight before him. Y/N had started to pack the small number of belongings she had into her bag, leaving only the clothes on her back out of the bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the village you found me in,” she said, shutting the door behind the man. “You were right, I’m no use to you, I only came along because I wanted more from life, but I guess I was wrong for looking for it at your side. I’m going to head out in the morning, a man a few doors down has a horse he’s willing to sell me so I can make my way back on my own, that way I won’t be bothering you or Jaskier anymore.” Geralt could feel the sadness in her voice as she spoke, he could see just how his words had hurt her as she finished packing up the last of her things.

“You will do no such thing,” he said in his gruff tone. “What I said was not true, you are helpful, and well…” Geralt wasn’t quite sure how to get the next words out. Taking in a deep breath, he continued, “well I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy your company as we travel.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, don’t worry you are forgiven, but you were right,” she said softly. “I’m just in the way, and I certainly don’t have it in me to ever be able to defend myself against the beasts like you. I’m better off just going back to my family, I’m sure they’ll be delighted, they can finally marry me off for the price of a cow… or maybe a sheep, I’m not quite sure how much I’d be worth in farm animals.”

“You are worth more than any farm animal, Y/N. Look, I will let you learn to fight, but only the basics for now. I… I didn’t want to teach you in case you got hurt. I don’t know what Jaskier… or I would do without your company.”

“You didn’t want me to get hurt? That’s why you wouldn’t let me learn? Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Because it sounds so fucking pathetic… sounds like something Jaskier would sing about.”

Y/N didn’t quite know what to say. The idea of Geralt, a man known for his inability to care, suddenly telling her that he did actually want her around and didn’t want her hurt left her a little bit speechless.

Geralt was also not sure quite what to say. He wanted to leave it there, walk away and pretend that this hadn’t ever happened, that he hadn’t shown her his weakness, but he also knew he couldn’t. The slightly smug bard downstairs would simply not allow him to continue on his life as though he didn’t have feelings for the woman standing before him.

“Fuck it…” Geralt whispered, quickly thinking on his next words before he opened his mouth. “Witchers aren’t meant to have weaknesses, it’s a reason we are not supposed to feel. Feeling leads to weakness which can lead to downfall.”

“I know, you’ve said this a thousand ways before,” Y/N said softly. Before she could continue Geralt reached out his hand for her, pulling her closer to him, not too close that their bodies were touching but enough that each could feel the heat radiating off of each other's bodies. “Geralt…”

“If I could keep this to myself I would, but Jaskier knows so if I don’t say it the singing bastard will instead,” Y/N wasn’t quite sure where this was going, it wasn’t like Geralt to beat around the bush, he was usually so blunt and direct with everything, this was unlike him. She, of course, knew where she wanted this to go, she wanted him to pull her in closer, for him to make her feel wanted, but deemed that unlikely. “I have feelings towards you that are more than what I have ever felt for a person in my life, I won’t name it as simply because I do not know what those feelings are, but I do know that even the idea of you being taken from me makes me feel a pain I have never felt before.” Geralt silenced, not quite used to speaking of a subject like this he became unsure of how to proceed from there. Looking down at Y/N, he tried his best to read her, to find out what was going on in her mind, but she looked nothing but stunned and confused.

Y/N was very much stunned and confused. Geralt, the big bad witcher, was to put it simply, telling her he felt for her, cared for her, perhaps even loved her. Sure she had wanted to hear him say that for quite some time but never imagined it to be true. As the cogs worked in her head, trying to understand what it was that she had just been told, Geralt went to pull away feeling embarrassed, something he did not find himself feeling often.

Her hand held his tight, pulling him back to her, a smile now gracing her lips as she reached up on her tippy toes, pulling him gently in for a kiss. He was hesitant at first, still unsure of himself, but as her hand came up to rest on his cheek, allowing herself to deepen the kiss, Geralt eased kissing her back gently. Their hands found each other's hair, the kiss getting deeper and more desperate as they pulled each other closer.  

As the kiss became more intense, the heat began to prickle on her skin, a burning desire for his hands to touch every inch of her rolled over her. Geralt, while not someone who understood his feelings, was certainly a man who understood a woman's body. Feeling the desperation in her kiss, he pulled away, turning her in his arms before gently releasing her of the corset she had been wearing atop her dress. As each ribbon became looser, the garment began to fall away, allowing Geralt to pull her closer to him once more, his lips kissing softly at her neck while his hand came up to massage her breast. Keeping one arm locked around her torso, keeping her still, Geralt couldn’t help the arousal evident in his trousers as he heard the breathy moans escaping her lips.

Carefully, so as not to hurt the woman he cared for, Geralt picked Y/N up, turning her in his arms allowing her lips to once again find his. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as her core met with the erection in his, she pressed herself down against his clothed cock, earning herself a deep groan from the man.

“If you do that again, I will have no choice but to fuck you,” he growled, biting at her lower lip, before his lips once again found her neck, his kisses rougher than before, leaving little marks in their wake.

A sly grin was on her face as she pushed herself down again. Before she could even have time to respond, Geralt had her on the bed, particularly tearing away her soft dress and undergarments, leaving her bare to him. The heat that pricked her skin was not because of embarrassment, no, it was out of lust. Seeing him as he ripped off his own clothing before climbing back on top of her, his cock nudging at her clit as he kissed her, one hand holding his body weight above her while the other found her entrance, slowly pushing two fingers inside her, it was all too much for her. As his fingers worked themselves in and out quicker and harder, she couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips,

“Oh god, please just fuck me,” she whined. “If I’m going to come I want it to be on your cock, not your fingers, ah, pleaseee.”

“Mhmm, listening to you beg for my is perhaps one of the most wonderful sounds I have ever heard,” Geralt was, of course, happy to fulfil her request, slowly replacing his fingers with his cock, careful not to hurt her. He gave her time to adjust before he could no longer contain himself, his pace going from slow and careful to animalistic. His lips found her breasts, biting, sucking, marking her as he went. The string of curses falling from her lips encouragement to keep going until her body began to weaken, the orgasm racking over her body. Try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from following her.

They lay there, still just for a moment, only their breaths and pounding hearts making any sound. Reluctantly Geralt pulled away, slipping off to the small washroom attached to her room to get a cloth to clean the mess he had made. Coming back to her he couldn’t help the small smirk on his lips as he looked at how wonderfully pretty she looked, completely undone, his cum dripping from her.

The pair cleaned themselves up and climbed back onto the bed together, Geralt instantly pulling her into him. They didn’t need to speak, the beating of each other's hearts was all they needed to hear. Slowly they drifted off to sleep, Y/N feeling the safest she ever had while in his arms, and Geralt feeling a warmth in his chest he didn’t know he was capable of.

--

“Oh ho! You fucked didn’t you!” Jaskier mocked the following morning, seeing the bruises Geralt had left on Y/N’s neck. Neither responded as Geralt helped Y/N onto Roach’s back, kissing her before going to pay the innkeeper for their nights stay.

Jaskier couldn’t contain his excitement at the development between the pair, spending the next few hours of their travels asking all the questions he could, thinking up quick little ditties to strum as they made their way to the next town.

Usually, Geralt would have snapped at Jaskier, but today he didn’t, for Geralt could not care less at that moment, for as he looked at Y/N riding Roach, she was all he could focus on. Maybe love would be the right thing to name his feelings for her.

[be-dazzled]

The Art of Falling

Chapter III CONSISTENCY IS KEY

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser, Gajeel Redfox Alternative Historical Universe Genre: Old World Vibes, Period Romance All Chapters: Click here | Taglist

Writer’s Corner: OKAY so I hid an Easter egg in there. Hint: Anime only, related to Juvia. Can you guys guess? Ahahaha. And, oh, I should put the writer’s corner after the story but oh well, let me know what you think of the couple I added in here. Also, I really hope Gray’s cousin is a character you will all like. I love her! Also, dayum period romance really don’t use everyday conversation english, do they? Show me some love. :*

Masterlist

The morning began with the entire Fullbuster household personally attending to the arrival of Lord Silver Fullbuster's beloved niece and her respectable husband. Gray abandoned his wish to come and pay the Locksers a visit to welcome his cousin, Ultear Vastia née Milkovich. She was travelling with her family: her husband Lyon and their daughter Ur, named after her deceased mother. The Vastia couple frequented the Fullbuster Manor, in the fall, when Mr. Vastia's business affairs lulled; they spend a week or so at the mansion, to keep Lady Mika some company. This fall, they arrived with a welcomed addition to their growing family, a six-month old little Ur whom the Lord and the Lady has taken quite the fondness of.

Lunch was spent exchanging stories of the great adventure that was raising little Ur, who the Lord and the Lady came to know, liked to slumber in the day and refused to allow her parents any sleep in the night. So, as soon as the little one awakened, Lord and Lady Fullbuster has taken it upon themselves to entertain the little eyes and insisted on keeping Ur company, while suggesting heavily to their son that it was a good time as any to practice. The young couple stayed behind at the drawing room, kept entertained by Grayden Fullbuster as he played a classical tune on the pianoforte.

Lyon joined his wife on the sofa and brought with him a bottle of fine wine from Lord Silver's cellar. He poured a generous serving in his wife's glass, knowing fully how Ultear missed her night caps.

"Would it be safe to do that?" Gray inquired without taking his eyes off the piano keys. As far as he was aware, drinking alcohol was discouraged upon mothers who breastfed.

"My doctor assured me one, occasional drink would not hurt." reasoned Ultear. "But enough about me. Why shan't we talk about you?" Yet the lady felt obliged to put her glass down after a long sip, then, returned to her husband's warm embrace. "I heard you are frequenting a certain household."

"And whom have you heard this information from?" As part of his noble upbringing, Gray had learned to play the piano as early as he could command his fingers. On the night's occasion, he chose "Air", a classic he had played far too many times, that his fingers knew where to land before he even thought of it.

"A man with a stature and fortune as yours? News travel fast, my dear cousin."

Gray allowed his company a small smile but paid them no more attention as the young pianist fell deeply into his song; only his mellow but pronounced melody filled the silence that befell the room, much to Mrs. Vastia's chagrin.

"Have you set your heart on a Lockser?"

"There are talks about the eldest Lockser's beauty. How it is comparable to that of Helen." Lyon chose that moment to put in a word into the conversation, associating with Miss Lockser the woman of Troy, whose beauty had launched a thousand ships. With Ultear's sharp eyes narrowed at him, Lyon quickly corrected himself before he invoked the ire of his wife. "But only because you, my beautiful wife, had already conceded to marriage."

Lyon bade his time, put on a forged smile turned troubled by the second, until his wife released his beseeching stare and Mr. Vastia could finally breathe relief. She placed a hand on his cheek and lovingly patted a hand on hit.

"I trained you well."

Gray dexterously quickened the tempo of his tune. Oblivious to the unabashed display of affection between the married man and woman, he closed his eyes, pictured the black and white keys clearly in his mind and swayed to the rhythm of his personal version of Air on G String.

"Gray, are you choosing to ignore me?"

"I know better not to."

"Very well. Now, do I have to wrestle the information out of you?"

A single note stretched on before Gray abruptly ended his tune and abandoned his playing. He sighed in defeat and accepted the fact that he was not going to finish the song. What great disrespect to the legendary J.S. Bach. He turned on his seat and addressed the couple holding each other closely on the daybed; the light from the fireplace danced on their feature. Although Lyon and Ultear were married for a year and had conceived a child of their own, Gray was still of the opinion that such display of affection should be shared only in the privacy of their home.

"I admit to the fact that I am seeking a maiden's hand in marriage."

Gray had said it in a tone so solemn that the couple wanted to laugh at its absurdity. In the end, however, seeing no humor in Gray's expression, the answer piqued the couple's interest, Ultear's more than her husband's, that she broke contact from him to devote her attention to her dearest cousin.

"And that maiden's name is?"

"Ms. Juvia Lockser."

The couple exchanged a bewildered look. Gray, however, had no single inkling on what possibly caused his visitors to respond in such a way. He had not any idea that in their little circle, as much as in every household in that town, there was only one Lockser daughter worth mentioning and it was not the name he had given them. But from the hundreds of questions running about in their heads, there was only one Ultear found worth inquiring.

"Is it true then that she left you beaten out in the cold?"

---

"I am flattered that my poor situation could offer you some amusement."

If Lyon Vastia was not a friend from the University and the husband of his beloved cousin, Gray ought to boot him out of Magnolia and back to where he came from. Gray was not one to abuse his power and influence but with how the married man had laughed at him from the Manor all the way to the Lockser House, there was no nerve left of him undisturbed.

"My apologies." The gentleman did not even pretend to try and stifle the chuckles erupting from him. "But this is the best news I've received since the birth of my child." Lyon fixed his coat around him, trying and failing to gather himself as they waited outside the Locksers' door. For he knew Gray was not one inclined to violence; yet, his was a story to be told for generations to come – of how the gentleman was knocked out cold by his future wife.

"Kindly keep your amusement to yourself. Do not embarrass me."

Gray knocked on the door once again, careful not to startle the inhabitants of the house but visibly irate at the older lad stood behind him. From the moment Juvia presented to him the challenge, as soon as the sun risen, Gray stood outside those retiring double doors, waiting for the invitation in. He had those doors slammed in his face twice, all by the hostile second daughter, before he could even pronounce his morning greeting. His father, however, had always reminded him that a man who was trying to win a maiden's heart must endure. Hence, at the moment, he awaited on the stoop, despite being deemed unwelcomed, until a more agreeable Lockser opens the door and invites them in.

Third time was the charm.

Alike the mornings of his every visit, the day began with a slam of the door followed by the reopening of it and a rather exuberant greeting by Mrs. Lockser, a creature much more affable than her second daughter, and her apologizing for said daughter's rudeness.

"I don't know who she takes after." She claimed. "I raised my children well."

By this time, however, Gray had taken it to be the regular course of his courtship.

Gray presented his companion, introducing Lyon as his cousin in law. The latter, same as with Gray, was a man of pedigree. Hence, the first few minutes of the social call were spent with pleasantries. As his cousin, Ultear had suggested, Gray came bearing gifts – the finest ribbons and richest tobacco.

Ultear had given him a good lecture on engagement. The first rule of which was to win the favor of the family, a stratagem her husband sworn by. In Gray's recollection, Lyon had only paid him attention to gain an introduction with Ultear Milkovich, who was then deemed the most beautiful and desirable maiden of all Fiore. Without Gray's aide, Lyon could not have married the lady of his dreams. The young tradesman then decided it was high time he returned the favor. With his wife's blessing, Lyon offered his finest commodities to serve as Gray's presents.

"The moment I heard my dear cousin, Gray, is vying for a woman's affection, my wife and I had decided to bring these all the way from my hometown."

With a merchant's smile plastered on his face, Lyon managed to win more favor, as if the fortune Gray was to inherit was not enough for Mrs. Lockser to worship the young lad.

"You shan't have burdened yourselves, my good gentlemen." said Mr. Lockser, but his wife's face lightened up as she inspected the gifts with astonished eyes.

"Look, my dear! These are hard to come by." Mrs. Lockser presented the case of expensive tobacco to her husband. "Oh and with these beautiful ribbons, my daughters will be envied by this town!" exclaimed she, prancing around her rather crowded parlour. Her happiness had afforded Gray a breath of relief, putting the young suitor at ease until Mrs. Lockser called out to Juvia from the staircase. "Juvia come down and see this!"

There was no response so Mrs. Lockser marched upstairs to take along the daughter herself.

Then came Eliana to step into her mother's absence and expressed her own gratitude towards Mr. Fullbuster. She had a smile that warmed up the room and it aided in Gray's growing self-consciousness. It was the moment that Juvia arrived at – Gray and Eliana sharing in comfortable silence. She then realized how understated the talks were around town, that Grayden Fullbuster and Eliana Lockser made a perfect couple. They were a match made in heaven, she could tell. Eliana's ethereal beauty could make up for what her family lacked in affluence and connections. Her grace and ladylike demeanor very much suited the position of a noble's wife. Gray had no business wooing the wrong sister and if he was to change his choice, she could not blame him, for Juvia was nothing but rude to the young master.

"What are you still doing standing there and having to make your guests wait?"

Juvia tore her contemplating gaze away from the couple she, and the rest of the community, had decided in their minds. Her mother walked past her, oblivious of the resolve Juvia had arrived at.

"What a rude child." Mrs. Lockser complained to herself, then, as if taking off some kind of invisible mask, changed her deportment into a rather overly familiar hostess.

It was then that Juvia caught Gray's eyes, staring up at her without breaking, as the young lady descended the stairs. He only averted his gaze when an unfamiliar lad, dressed in garb as fancy as that of Mr. Fullbuster's, tapped his shoulders and passed him the most beautiful flowers Juvia had ever seen. Her brows furrowed in confusion as Gray walked past her beautiful sister, who deserved the offering of beauty that could rival Miss Lockser's, and stepped forward to meet Juvia at the foot of the staircase. Her eyes had wandered, however, not to meet Gray's dark ones, but at the white Magnolias held in his hands being presented to her. Without meaning to do it, Juvia's own hands saved him the trouble and gathered the bouquet in their safety.

"You should not have." She said in a tone that was neither happy nor content, without removing her eyes from the lovely whites. "Flowers die when removed from their stems." Those words, however, left her lips with indignation. She raised her eyes from the poor flowers and directed them at the confused gentleman from whom they came from, repeating, "Flowers die when removed from their stems."

Gray was left wondering if what was deemed a polite gesture had offended the young lady whose affection he sought. This should not have surprised him; however, since in the beginning he knew, Juvia Lockser was different from the rest of the ladies of Magnolia. Instead of being meekly but happily receiving such beautiful products of nature, like any lady would, Juvia had given him the deadliest stare he had ever had to confront in his life.

"My apologies."

"Non-sense!" Mrs. Lockser interrupted, dispersing the unfriendly air around the two. "You shouldn't apologize for bringing such wonderful flowers, Mr. Fullbuster." She snatched the fresh bouquet in Juvia's hands and casted a reprimanding glance towards the recipient. "And my daughter should be more grateful." She let a moment of silence stretch on, excused herself to the kitchen and instructed her family to help the guests be more comfortable whilst she prepare some refreshments.

With Mrs. Lockser away, the role of host fell onto the lap of Mr. Julian Lockser.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Fullbuster. Mr. Vastia, is it?"

"Yes, sir." answered Lyon politely. He sat next to his friend and cousin-in-law, who obeyed Mr. Lockser diligently.

Foresight had encouraged the second Lockser daughter to excuse herself, for if she wanted to go on about her day, she must now leave before her father started a conversation. His talks often lasted more than necessary.

"Father, if you may please allow me," Juvia had already stood up from her station and motioned to the front door. "I would like to be excused."

Juvia had always been the odd one in the family. She always felt out of place standing next to her sisters but she loved them all the same. She was often the center of her mother's attention and reproach, when her focus was momentarily stolen away from the loveliest daughter, for deviating from social norms and expectations of a lady. Juvia was the kind that would rather come with her father and help in the fields or wander around the woods, something a woman of her age would never be caught dead doing. In all this, she found an ally in his father who would indulge Juvia in her antics, only if it shall drive her mother to the edge of sanity, which both Juvia and her father enjoyed immensely.

However, Mr. Lockser knew there was time for propriety. Furthermore, he was very much aware of the graveness of this visit. His fortune was not well enough to support more than one family.

"Let's entertain our guests, my darling. They have travelled far and early to see our humble abode."

Juvia glanced at the culprit of the visit indignantly. Her frown had placed the blame of disrupting her morning on none other than her self-proclaimed suitor, who met her frown with confusion. Because it was Mr. Lockser who asked, Juvia had no other choice but to return to her place on the sofa and be obligated to listen in boring dialogues or otherwise.

"And what is it that you do, Mr. Vastia?"

Mr. Lockser displayed great interest in Mr. Vastia's business and spent the rest of the morning discussing it, which Juvia had easily foreseen. There was no stopping her father once his interest was roused. Juvia had no other choice but to suffer through it in excruciating silence. Alas, when the conversation rounded into a retelling of Mr. Vastia's adventures in the sea, Juvia's sleepiness had ebbed away. Her ears perked as she listened with much gusto, pitching her own inquiries here and there. For only tales of danger and adventure could hold Juvia's full attention and appease her thirst for them.

"My apologies, good sir, but I have been speaking of myself since this morning. You might see me as a vain man." He meekly coughed a short laugh in an attempt to be perceived modest. "I may have forgotten the reason my cousin and I had come today." He glanced at the reason for their visit, whose amusement had dulled at the interruption. "If Ms. Juvia would allow this gentleman a private audience." Lyon tapped a hand on Gray's shoulder, surprising him momentarily, yet passing the message as clear as day.

"Y-yes," started Gray, "if you may allow sir, I would like to request a private dialogue with your daughter."

"Pardon my interjection, good sirs." It was Juvia who answered on her own behalf, not wanting to be left out of the conversation of which she was the subject of. "If Mr. Fullbuster desired so, should he not have asked for it a moment ago?"

In truth, Juvia did not like the sudden turn of the conversation. She much preferred sitting through every storm the brave tradesman had to grapple with, to return to shore and be reunited with his family, rather than be left alone with the insufferably silent, dull and reserved Mr. Fullbuster.

"He was taken aback by your presence, Miss Juvia. Kindly forgive my cousin."

Such manner of speaking was quite familiar with Juvia; although she had never been the subject of such lighthearted teasing, as no one ever dared speak to a shrew. Even so, without much experience, Juvia could hold her own conversation.

"Could Mr. Fullbuster not speak for himself that you must do it on his behalf?"

Juvia had hidden her intention to affront both gentlemen in a rather sweet but arch smile, something Lyon never expected from this contemptuous lady. The young women of Magnolia were raised to behave with reserved manner and endearing meekness. So it came as a surprise that a young woman such as Juvia had no trouble challenging him. Lyon was dumbfounded that he forgot how to speak for a moment, for there was only a number of people who had such effect on him, and failed to rise to her challenge.

There were many words to describe Mrs. Lockser and heaven-sent was positively not one of them. In that moment, however, when she walked back into the parlour with her pleasant smelling tea and sunny disposition, Lyon conceded to calling her that, a heaven sent, for she had saved him from the blindsided discomfiture.

---

Daylight had gone without Juvia ever having to get out of the house and see it. Her father and mother, but mostly the latter, held the young people hostage in the house. She wished the good gentlemen would take the intimation and excused themselves. The lack of sunlight made the young lady out of sorts and she would not have wanted to be the one to ask them to leave. If Mr. Vastia had not remembered the family waiting for him, the two lads would have joined the Locksers for dinner and Juvia would have lost her manners.

Fatigue had caught up with her when she retired for the night, which Juvia found odd as she had not any activities throughout the day. So, how come her body felt too weary and her muscles too cramp? She walked in to her sisters tucking themselves into their own beds and came to the conclusion that it was too late to search for answers. The second child headed to her own bed stationed between her sisters' and chanced upon the white Magnolias arranged beautifully in a budvase next to it. Much like how she reacted to first meeting them earlier, her hands reached out to them on their own.

"Beautiful, are they not?"

Eliana's voice surprised Juvia that her hand hanged in the air for a moment before she quickly withdrew it back to her side. The eldest crossed to her bed and settled on it as her fingers gently felt the delicate white petals of Juvia's bouquet; her appreciating eyes never left the beautiful display.

"Have you any idea what Magnolias symbolize? Nobility and dignity. Mother says they've been around for thousands of years." Eliana's soft eyes studied the beauty right before her, tossing her head at every angle, lost in the appreciation of the white Magnolias. "They best represent Mr. Fullbuster, do you agree?" She asked in a tone, however, that required no response and so, Juvia did not answer. Instead, the latter examined the sister before her.

Eliana had the gift of seeing only the best in people, of finding beauty in each thing. Juvia could say her sister was too innocent, too naïve but it was one thing she envied of her. Not her beauty, not her flawlessness, but her ability to only see the good.

"You may take them if you wish."

"Non-sense!" Eliana only withdrew her eyes away from the flowers to look at her sister with outrage. "These were offered to you. I was only admiring them." She stood from the bed and motioned towards her own, saying her goodnights to her younger sisters without ever glancing at them. Wendy was fast asleep in her own bunk while Juvia, once again, failed to answer. It seemed that her older sister was not expecting one as Eliana slipped under the covers and faced the opposite wall, away from her kin.

"You admire an illusion, my dear sister." Juvia then turned her eyes towards the white Magnolias, this time, without need but with restrained want of touching them. "For you see, flowers wither as quickly as the sand filters through one's hand."

Juvia never placed high hopes on whatever thing, because sooner than later, the Magnolias would wither and there would be nothing left of it but some proof of its once beautiful existence. Everything must come to an end and such was the fact of life. So, she fell asleep then wondering if how long Gray's misplaced affection would last for such a disagreeable woman as her.

---

"Trust me when I say this, my love," The first thing Lyon did once they arrived back at the mansion was to seek the comfort of his wife. He slipped onto her lap, rested his head on them and waited until Ultear finished the page she was reading and closed her book, "I have never felt so unwanted in my life."

"Don't be overdramatic," interjected Gray, "we made progress."

"Progress?" He turned to the gentleman who spoke while his wife combed her fingers through his silver hair. "The woman was hostile through and through!"

"Yes, because today she had finally talked to me."

"Ah, yes. To tell you in no limited terms how evil you were to pluck the flowers off their stems and offer the same to her."

"Small progress is still progress. Kindly, do not misunderstand Miss Juvia. She only expressed her worry of the flowers' well-being rather than their aesthetic purposes."

Lyon's brows met in the middle to his response and his eyes narrowed in observation. On the outset it appeared that Gray and Juvia was the last people to think when the words 'match made in heaven' came to mind. They were just too different, too opposite from one another, like mismatched pieces of a hundred-piece puzzle. To Lyon's surprise, however, Gray seemed to have a rather deep understanding of the young woman.

"Isn't the eldest a bit more pleasant and agreeable?"

"Perhaps." He answered with a tone that was both uninterested and dismissing, as Gray had found his journal and began writing on it.

"Then what are we doing pining after one who could care less about your existence?"

"I admit that Ms. Juvia Lockser isn't making this at all easy. But may I remind you that nothing of value often is."

There was a sudden silence cut only by Ultear's remarks.

"I could not believe my ears for a moment." A short chuckle tumbled out of Ultear's lips, clearly finding the exchange more amusing than her book or her husband's soft locks.

"I cannot understand where her loathing of you is coming from. Whatever have you done to earn her deep-rooted ire?"

Gray pondered for a moment, putting his pen down and debating whether to tell the couple his truth. As he wanted Juvia not to be unreasonably misunderstood, he opted to recount the night he and Juvia first met. His goal was realized and doubts of Juvia's upbringing were dispelled. He did not anticipate, however, that his beloved cousin and her husband would quickly jump on the young lady's side and abandoned his.

"If you have done the same to me, I would have castrated you right there and then," exclaimed Ultear, who was now seeing her cousin more of an evil than the angel she thought of him to be. "However, as she holds you no accountable, why do you afford this lady much consequence?"

"Why indeed."

Gray had not the answer himself but to find such reason, or any of it, was the cause of this journey.

"Well, I shall not keep you." He addressed the couple without satisfying their curiosity. "I must retire for the night. Tomorrow is a new day." said he, and kept his journal close to him as he went away.

Gray left his behavior to scrutiny of the couple in the room; both pairs of curious eyes followed his retreating back until he disappeared behind the archway.

"I pity our boy, my love. The young lady could not spare him even a bit of interest."

"Do you feel she cannot accept him?"

"Her hostility is something I have never seen even from our business competitors."

There was a stretch of silence, filled only by the mellow crackles from the fireplace. Lyon played with his wife's fingers intertwined with his and let the woman be alone with her thoughts. If Juvia Lockser genuinely harbored no interest towards her beloved cousin, then her aunt's misgivings were not too unfounded. Ultear ought to convince him to end his pertinacity and save his beloved cousin from the awful pain of rejection.

"We must retreat to our chambers then, my love. I will have to rise early to accompany our persistent boy."

Lyon slid off his wife's lap and gently pulled her beloved to her feet, after him. He held on to the warmth of their hands clasped together all the way to their assigned room.

"But I have to say, my love." Lyon led his wife through the corridors of the mansion. "Despite her contentiousness, I can find the charm in the young Juvia Lockser."

The confession had piqued the curiosity of his wife, who was coming down to the resolve of joining her aunt's cause and put a stop on the doomed courtship. Her interest was tickled and mind clouded. For what woman would willingly refuse the opportunity to amass a fortune even she would have envied.

"She is like you in some regard."

"And in what regard would that be?"

Juvia Lockser must have been foolish, very much unlike Ultear. She could not refuse if one day she was to inherit the Fullbuster manor.

"You both would give any gentleman a run for their fortune."

Her husband's smile was equally warm and teasing. For Ultear knew quite well and she could vividly remember, how much suffering she put her now husband through in their own engagement. So that night she deferred her plans on allying with her beloved aunt, no matter how unseemly that was. She wanted to meet the lady and form her own opinion of her. If what her husband said was any true, then Gray's courtship may not be as hopeless as she thought, after all.

tags: @greenapplegrass @shampooneko @trizfn @anaken101 @gruviaftw11 @juviasblog @heademptyonlygruvia @unvalley @jetblackrevival @lannyathewitch @groovyah​ @jujumanga​

[satonthelotuspier]

This is for Day 6 of Xichengclipse and there is a disclaimer or two. Firstly, this is angst, with Major Character Death (but eventual happy ending).

Secondly, this is a little different to anything I've written for MDZS before. In this story I've gone with calling the character name of the legend they're associated with for the fic.

Wen Qing is Chang'e the moon goddess,

Lan Xichen is Yu Tu (the moon/jade rabbit - more below)

Jiang Cheng is Jiu Wei Hu (the nine-tailed fox - more below)

I did a little reading for this prompt and ended up cherrypicking some parts of various legends and mythology surrounding the nine tailed foxes, and Chang'e, and Yue Tu, her rabbit companion, and mashing them all up together with a big dose of my headcanon.

I read that Yue Tu 月兔 (Moon Rabbit) is also referred to as 玉兔 Yu Tu (Jade Rabbit) so of course our first jade LXC became Yu Tu for this fic.

The nine tailed foxes, 九尾狐, Jiu Wei Hu became JC's name as a fox demon. The legend of them achieving immortality at 1000 years old, being able to cure poison by eating their flesh, and their location, are all lifted from various writings on these little scamps, but the flowers Chang'e sends Yu Tu after are pure headcanon.

Nine Petals On A Flower Signify Pearls

A city suffers plague, and Chang'e sends her trusted companion Yu Tu to find a fabled flower of legend that can cure the incurable.

Yu Tu leaves the moon to search for the cure, but stumbles upon a nine-tailed fox, wounded by mortals after an attempt to capture him. Might the fox know the answer to where the flowers are located?

For day 6 of Xichengclipse, featuring LXC as the fabled moon rabbit and JC as a nine-tailed fox.

Chang’e came to see him that morning, bringing with her a sense of purpose, and her ever present sadness. She was known better on the earth below them as the moon goddess who had stolen the potion of immortality from Hou Yi, the hero archer.

In reality she had seen what a burden immortality was, and rescued her brother from having to live an eternity of struggling on alone, at the cost of her own suffering.

Yu Tu, the jade rabbit who had ascended to the moon with her, known as her ever-present companion, was aware she would have a definite reason for visiting, so he shifted to human form and made tea.

They sat in companionable silence for a little while, before Chang’e brought up the reason for her visit.

“I worry about a city below, Yu Tu, it appears they are undergoing pestilence. The healers do not seem to have any medicines that counteract the poisons brought by the plague.”

Her tone suggested she knew of a cure, so he kept his counsel, allowing her to continue at her own pace.

“When I was mortal, I heard tell of a legend, that many li north of Tianwu, there was a land of verdant hills. There was one where nine-petalled flowers grew amidst scattered jade and cinnabar, and bore pearls of whitest sheen, instead of seeds. These pearls could cure what could not be cured.”

Yu Tu understood her intent immediately.

“I will prepare to depart immediately, My Lady.” he rose, and bowed low to her.

“You are willing to chase a rumour and a legend, brought up from my imperfect memory of a time long ago, when I was a human?”

“My Lady seeks to heal, as ever. I will not fail you.”

“Thank you”

***

Within a short time Yu Tu had descended and was searching for the land of legend, where the pearl Chang’e had referred to was to be discovered.

He travelled north of Tianwu, and discovered a land of many hills. It was verdant, with the soft feel of early spring, where the world was waking up from its winter sleep again. He searched the hills, but found none where jade and cinnabar were scattered far and wide, in beds of white flowers. He wandered even further north, until he eventually came across a mountainside that was wreathed in mist. Making his way into the misted foothills he began to pass strewn jade, and red staining cinnabar and his excitement grew. There were no white flowers to be seen, however.

Yu Tu continued to walk up the hillside, hoping that the flowers were merely higher up, hidden in the mist-covering.

He was surprised at the sudden report of an animal in pain, it cried out, intermingled with rage and a feral warning. He drew Shuoyue, the sword Chang’e had gifted him with for his quests on earth, and approached the direction the noise had come from cautiously.

He soon found the source. A group of mortal humans held ropes that jerked and pulled about this way and that, and Yu Tu followed the length of them, to identify that they were attached to a Nine-tailed fox, they cut into his flesh, and he howled and hissed and spat at the men as they tried to subdue him, but he refused to give in.

“Try not to damage him, we should get good coin for him alive.”

Yu Tu didn’t need to hear anything further, he shot forward and sliced at the ropes with Shuoyue.

He had the element of surprise, and an armed opponent seemed to send a quiver of fear through the humans, who scattered before his sword, running without putting up much of a battle.

When he was sure they had fled, he turned to the fox, who had ripped the bindings free of his body, and rose to his full height, now in human form, violet eyes blazing with his anger and pain.

His tails, snow-white except where they were limned with violet at their very tips, swirled around him in an understandable mixture of fear and excitement. He was confronted with what was essentially a rabbit with a sword, and the predator in him reacted almost as strongly as the reasoning side that saw the danger, and understood that Yu Tu had saved him.

Yu Tu didn’t pay it too much attention, or it might have had a stronger hold on him, but there was a part of himself that panicked at the sight of a fox, all sharp, vulpine features and sharper teeth.

Whatever might have happened, didn’t, however, as the fox fell into a dead faint at his feet.

Yu Tu moved over, tentatively at first, in case it was merely a ploy to take him off guard, but he soon realised it was genuine. He quickly rolled the fox onto his back, and began to check his wounds. There were several deep cuts, and he had lost quite a lot of blood. He bandaged up the worst, with pieces torn from his robes, then lifted the other into his arms. He had to take them to somewhere enclosed, safer for the fox.

Some searching further up the mountainside revealed a cave which seemed to be where the fox made his den.

He lay him out on the nest that had been built in one corner of the cave, away from the drafts, and went to collect water from the stream nearby.

He spent a little time cleaning and bandaging up the rest of the fox’s wounds, then tenderly cleaning his sharply handsome face.

Handsome? Yu Tu examined that thought. Objectively yes, he was. Should a rabbit find a fox handsome? Perhaps not.

He ran a thumb gently over the other’s finely arched eyebrow, then over the sharp jut of his cheekbone.

He pulled his hand away, then rose to his feet.

Yu Tu considered his next move. He had done what he could for the fox, and he should get on with looking for what he had come for. Although, he had kept look out on his way to the den, and had seen no white flowers with pearls instead of seed pods.

He went to stand by the cave mouth.

He really should move on. Even if the cure wasn’t here, there had to be other hillsides where the flowers could be found.

He trusted Chang’e hadn’t been wrong about this, and he would find the cure. People’s lives were depending on it.

But he still couldn’t bring himself to step foot out of the fox’s den just yet.

He moved back to sit next to his nest. He couldn’t keep calling him just the fox, so he decided he would be Jiu Wei Hu as a name, and not just a creature.

***

It was the next day before Jiu Wei Hu awoke from his sleep. He immediately scented the rabbit in his territory, and tried to sit up.

Yu Tu made a soothing noise, and pinned him down with a gentle hand at his shoulder.

“Be still, or you will pull open your wounds,” he advised calmly, and those violet, fox-eyes found his amber coloured ones.

“You saved me,” his voice was low, deep, and rough, as if it wasn’t used often.

“I did, and helped heal you, you still need to aid it with rest, though.”

The muscles beneath his hand relaxed.

“Why?”

“Why not? If I see humans planning to sell a creature for profit, should I not help? And I am a healer, how could I not heal your injuries?”

Jiu Wei Hu considered his words, and seemed to find them sensible; he nodded.

“Thank you.”

Silence.

Then; “What brings you here, immortal moon rabbit?”

Yu Tu watched him carefully. How had he known? Was he in danger?

“I am nearly a thousand years old, yet I know of only one rabbit healer who can become human and move around in the world of mortals.”

At his words Yu Tu tensed. He was nearly a thousand years old? Were the legends of what happened to a nine-tailed fox in his thousandth year true?

There was an amused laugh rumble in Jiu Wei Hu’s chest.

“You are quite easy to read, Yu Tu. To answer your question, I am the only nine tailed fox left here, so I cannot know for sure. But I shall soon find out, thanks to you. I shall enter my thousandth year in three days. Perhaps I will ascend and become a celestial fox. Perhaps I will stay here and be a very old fox demon.” There was a burning excitement in his eyes. Despite he words he genuinely did believe his destiny was to ascend the heavens as a celestial.

“Before I do, if I do, how would you have me help you, in return for saving my life?” Jiu Wei Hu asked.

Yu Tu should perhaps be cautious, a nine-tailed fox demon was a likely to bamboozle as help, their nature was cunning and sly and mercurial.

He wanted to believe the other was genuine, however.

“Chang’e talked of a white flower, with nine petals, that bloomed and bore pearls instead of seed pods. These gems are meant to cure the incurable. I came in search of them, to stop a plague. So far I’ve seen no sign of anything of the kind. Perhaps you know of what she speaks, living in this place?”

There was a sudden, barking laugh come from the other, and though it seems to aggravate his wounds he laughed for quite a while, as if unable to stop. Then he sat up, despite Yu Tu’s warnings, and changed back into his fox form.

He was pure white, and sleek, with nine fine, bushy tails weaving in the air behind him.

Yu Tu was a little confused at first, but realisation dawned, and his heart sank.

Jiu Wei Hu returned to his human form, with a rueful look on his face.

“I am the flower you are looking for, Yu Tu. A taste of my flesh is said to cure poison,” Jiu Wei Hu watched Yu Tu carefully then, consideringly. “Are you still willing to help and heal me knowing this?”

Although he was bitterly disappointed in his failure, of course he was. Jiu Wei Hu was a living thing, deserving of his healing skills too.

“Of course,” he answered, instantly and firmly.

Jiu Wei Hu watched him for a while longer, before seeming to accept his words. He settled back into his nest.

His patient woke frequently throughout the night, and Yu Tu stayed by his side. They talked when he did. The fox was quite thorny and kept much close to his chest, but listened carefully when Yu Tu spoke of his duties as a healer, his life with Chang’e, and the same before he had ascended to the moon with her.

He did speak briefly on his past, but never in detail; he was a proud, haughty fox, who had a wicked sense of humour, and a lightning fast temper, as Yu Tu discovered.

As the night progressed, Yu Tu began to think more and more on the subject of the other becoming a celestial fox, and secretly he began to hope the legend was true. Should the other ascend, there would be opportunity to spend time together, to get to know each other.

Even if the legend wasn’t true, he could prostrate himself and beg some of her elixir of immortality from Chang’e. Having the other as a companion to spend eternity with; well it wouldn’t be dull.

He would tell the other tomorrow, and they could return to Chang’e and let her know the pearls didn’t exist, and try to work on another cure.

He was drifting on the edge of sleep just before dawn, when the sudden sound at the mouth of the cave made him jerk awake. He reached for Shuoyue, but it was too late, and he felt the demon binding ropes the humans had used on Jiu Wei Hu tighten around his neck and wrists. Why had he not expected them not to track him to the fox’s den? He was likely about to pay for his stupidity with his freedom.

There was a sudden, explosive growl from the nest, as Jiu Wei Hu awoke, and slipped out of the ropes beginning to close around him. He leaped forward, claws and fangs flashing in the meagre light filtering in from outside.

“You will not touch him,” he snarled, and tore through the group of slavers. He was deadly and beautiful, vicious and unforgiving, and soon the cave was strewn with bodies and blood.

He turned to look at Yu Tu, “Are you hurt?” his chest heaved, and he started forward, then checked himself as he realised he was covered in gore and blood.

Yu Tu saw the movement too late to warn, and the sudden appearance of the end of a sword through the front of Jiu Wei Hu’s chest made him cry out in horror. Yu Tu ragged himself free of the ropes, and shot forward, beheading the leader, who had kept himself hidden, in a single sweep of Shuoyue.

He dropped his sword, then caught Jiu Wei Hu as he fell forward.

Yu Tu wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him in his lap.

He hated that he was a healer and he knew there was nothing he could do to save him against that wound.

Jiu Wei Hu looked up at him, a rueful expression in his violet eyes again, “I suppose we won’t find out if the legends of the nine-tailed foxes were true.”

“Please…” he didn’t know what he begged for, the other not to make light of it? Not to die? Not to leave him when he had only just found him? He cupped that sharply angled face in a hand, “I wanted you to stay with me. Why did you sacrifice yourself for me?”

A soft expression passed across the fox’s face. “Because Chang’e needs you, you told me so yourself. Maybe you’ll meet me again in my next life.” He coughed, and it was full of blood, “Use my essence to cure the city of plague, you may as well accomplish what you came here for.”

The words broke the dam and he felt a tear escape the corner of his eye and roll down his face. It dropped onto the other’s lashes and held there as they drifted close. They didn’t open again.

He wasn’t sure for how long he sat on the cave floor, numb, holding on to Jiu Wei Hu’s body, but he knew eventually he had to offer some form of funerary rites. No matter what the fox had offered, he couldn’t bear the thought of using his flesh for any reason.

He lowered Jiu Wei Hu’s head carefully to the cave floor, and went in search of something he might dig a grave with. When he returned, there was no sign of the fox’s body. There was half a minute when he was prepared to scream and rage his agony at someone daring to steal it, when he noticed the small, white pearl nestled on the ground.

The legend Chang’e had heard hadn’t been entirely wrong, after all, the nine-petalled flower had just been of a particularly thorny genus.

He lifted the pearl up, gently, reverently. He wasn’t sure whether he could bear to allow the use of this pearl anymore than he could have Jiu Wei Hu’s body. But perhaps he might reconcile himself to the fact as he made his way back to Chang’e’s side.

***

Present Day

Chang’e came to see him that morning. She carried a small vial of elixir and placed it on the table next to the tea cups.

“You felt his soul stirring, then?”

Yu Tu nodded. He intended to descend and search for his Jiu Wei Hu. He wasn’t entirely sure how he would find one mortal in a sea of them, but he would search forever, if he had to. He had already waited this long.

“Thank you, Chang’e,” he said as he picked the elixir up and tucked it into his sleeve.

“It’s the least I can offer as thanks for what your Jiu Wei Hu sacrificed,” she said simply, and they finished their tea in companionable silence.

***

Yu Tu didn’t expect to stumble upon Jiu Wei Hu instantly, not in a city of millions. He wasn’t too discouraged, therefore, after several hours of searching turned up nothing. He had a strong impression the fox’s soul was in the general area, so he would concentrate himself here. In the meantime he needed to take a break and study the map for large gathering areas where he might find the other.

He stopped at a tea house, and ordered tea and his favoured mooncakes, spreading his map on the table as he waited for his order, to study.

There was a museum nearby, and a university campus. They were good places to start, where people came and went.

He looked up as the waiter brought over a tray with his order, and jerked out a hand automatically, his heart stopping dead in his chest. His movement had accidentally knocked the tray out of the waiters hands, and everything went smashing to the floor, drawing the attention of the entire patronage of the teahouse.

“I’m so incredibly sorry.” Yu Tu said carefully, and the young man looked at him with his fiery brown eyes, a flash of irritation crossing his sharply fox-like face. He quickly tamped it down though and settled it into something closer to a rueful smile. Yu Tu’s stomach dropped in reaction. He had seen that expression on that face so many times that night in the cave.

“It’s fine. Please be careful while I clear this up, sir, or you might cut yourself.” The young man, Jiang Cheng according to the tag on his uniform shirt, said, and he bent to begin picking up the shards of pottery and smashed mooncakes, and placing them on the tray. Yu Tu got up and bent to help.

“You don’t need to, sir, leave it to me.” There was a slight touch of exasperation in his voice, and Yu Tu smiled widely, this reincarnation of Jiu Wei Hu’s soul kept all the other’s irritability.

Jiang Cheng looked at him like he was a lunatic, which, considering he had virtually knocked the tray out of his hands, and now grinned like a fool, wasn’t unexpected.

“Are you feeling alright, sir?” Jiang Cheng asked, doubt in his voice.

“I’m feeling wonderful, thank you.”

Honestly so-so about the execution. The idea probably deserved more words than I wrote it as.

[weialala-leia]

File purge - Untitled

(AKA the one with switching POVs with Team 7, witch!Naruto, time loops, Hatake Kakashi holding the damn line against the demons, and Naruto predicting the arrival of Senju Hashirama 600 years before it happens). (AKA I wrote this fic in 2015; you guys, I was in a mood). (AKA the last one left over in my archives; I’ll eventually format it for A03 once I give it a name)

1. SASUKE

The messenger arrives when Sasuke is elbow-deep in the innards of a deer, pulling out the intestines in a steaming, wet pile of red hues. 

The snow around him is melting from the waning body heat of the dead animal, running pink and murky around Sasuke. It’s a cold morning, clouds overhead so that even so long past sunrise, it feels like they’ve lingered in the grey twilight hours.

He can hear the bustle and noise of camp a hundred yards away: men and women’s voices rising in unison, dogs barking, and restless horses. The children are awake too, and he can hear them parroting their lessons in the field, reciting chakra pathways and tenketsu that Tayuya and Kimimaro are listing. Jugo had told him in no uncertain terms that he was expected to spend the afternoon training the older children in their lessons today, and Sasuke had begrudgingly agreed.

The younger ones need to see the leader, need to be reminded of whose orders they are to obey, whose authority they are expected to lay their life down for.

The morning, though, is his to spend however he wants. Suigetsu and Jugo are going through the various concerns of the tribe—the small quarrels that have arisen in Sasuke’s absence, the issue of who can establish their tents where, patrols, the digging of trenches and stake walls and what to do about the solstice that lies ahead. If there’s anything worth bringing to Sasuke’s attention, they will do so. So rather than linger in camp and get drawn into the myriad trivialities of leading a tribe, Sasuke woke up early, saddled up Botan, and rode out into the Birchwood forests at the base of his mountain camp with a new bow that Jirobo had fashioned for him. It is a massive weapon, tall enough for Sasuke’s height, and with a weight to counterbalance all of Sasuke’s muscles. It’s too heavy for battle, but perfect for the hunt. When he let loose an arrow, the air had sung with the tension of the string; the power of the bow was such that it took a single arrow to pierce clean through the neck of the animal.

The messenger is one of the younger boys in camp, Ryota, no more than thirteen. He’s Kidomaru’s youngest son, and he has inherited Kidomaru’s sharp, brown gaze and brown skin. He’s bundled in furs to ward against the cold, but the ties holding his cloak secure are haphazard—he was in a hurry, and that is enough of a detail that Sasuke rises to his feet to watch the boy dismount.

“Lord,” he begins, straining for breath, and Sasuke bites down on his immediate reaction: I am no lord. “Riders from the south. Lord Hozuki sent me to get you.”

Sasuke glances over his shoulder at the buck, half-gutted still. If he leaves the carcass here, it’ll attract the wolves. “Stay with the kill,” he says, and moves towards Botan, who is grazing unsuccessfully through some dried nettle. He huffs and whinnies when Sasuke mounts. “What tribe?”

Ryota blinks up at Sasuke. “Konohagakure,” he says, and Sasuke feels his heartbeat take off into a wild, wild thunder.

2. SAKURA

The woman at the front of the room, Sakura surmises, is a witch. She has the same, unnatural crystal eyes that Naruto does.

But unlike Naruto, she hasn’t been branded her for who she is. The skin of delicate face is porcelain smooth without a single scar. When she catches Sakura’s lingering stare, she tilts her head at an angle, considering. “A flower,” she says.

It’s a neat trick, but Sakura grew up with Naruto. Divining a name is child’s play compared to what Naruto can do. “My name is Haruno Sakura,” she offers, and the witch’s smile becomes wider still.

“Betsukai Karin,” she says. A little unnecessarily, she adds, “I am the witch for the Taka.”

There was no doubt who Karin was. From the moment they were shown into a large building—the only wooden construction in camp—Sakura had known who Karin was. All witches have those odd, crystal eyes, and Karin is no different. Her gaze had drawn Sakura’s attention almost immediately, even though she had been sitting quietly at a table, close to the roaring fire in the center.

The witch Karin is with two other men at the tables: Betsukai Jugo and Hozuki Suigetsu. Betsukai Jugo is a mountain of a man, almost as large as Chouji. He sits too close to the witch, and she, in turn, sits too close to him. Sakura tries not to stare open-mouthed at them because they conduct themselves around each other with the ease of a man and a woman who are intimate with each other. They had both named themselves Betsukai, and they act like man and wife.

But how, she wonders, can Karin call herself a witch if she has ever lain with a man?

She doesn’t have much time to consider the logistics of this (she has to tell Naruto, it will be the very first thing she tells him when she returns), because her attention is almost exclusively occupied by Hozuki Suigetsu. He is lean and muscled, unnaturally handsome with silver hair and ruby-amethyst eyes. He has been leaning too casually into her space as they talk, acting with the confidence of a man who has always held the attention of women.

Sakura breathes a weary sigh, and keeps her conversation with Suigetsu as light and detached as possible. She had at first insisted on making this trip with as few men as possible, but now, she’s grateful for the contingency that Kakashi had sent with her: Kiba, Shino, Shikamaru, Neji, and Ino. They are seated at the table as well, but they have gathered on the far end from where the northerners are sitting. For the most part, they’re quiet as they eat, except for the occasional murmured conversation in their own language.

She wants to sit with Naruto and talk about what she has seen so far—the oddly shaped tents spreading outwards from the center of the camp with no obvious rhyme or reason, the lack of any obvious clues to indicate who ranks where in their hierarchy, the odd clothes and even stranger weapons, the harsh, clipped sound of their language.

But Naruto isn’t here; he’s south, keeping watch over the oceans and guarding their people against demons. All she can do is remember as much of this journey as possible; he’ll have a hundred thousand questions for her when she returns.

For now, she keeps her peace with the witch and her companions as they wait for the Taka tribal leader to arrive. Akamaru is a warm, steady presence at her side, and she’s grateful for the heat he affords. Kakashi had warned her of the cold temperature in the north, but she hadn’t realized just how cold it would be.

She can’t imagine how Kakashi spent so long in these parts of the world. She can’t imagine moving their people north.

The Konohagakure have spent centuries along the warm, southern coast of the peninsula, but the waters are dangerous now, and they are besieged on all sides by enemies: monsters in the gulf, desert tribes moving in from the west, and island warriors descending from the east as they all seek to escape the wrath of the demons.

North is the only way they can go, into the vast, open lands still unclaimed by any single tribe.

She is her father’s daughter, though, so she can see what it costs her father to retreat. She sees it in the stiff set of Kakashi’s shoulders, the way he spends long nights on the parapets, turned towards the roiling waters of the gulf. If it had been anyone else who inherited Namikaze Minato’s mantle, the Konohagakure would have been brought to their knees long before. But Sakura’s father is a man of war. He held together the delicate stitching of their people for decades with the sheer force of his will alone. It had taken him years—all of Sakura’s childhood, in fact; this is the only world Sakura and Naruto grew up with—but now, he has finally conceded to his advisors:

The Konohagakure—a tribe of legend if there ever was one—will yield their seat of power in the south and move north.

When the decision was announced, the tribe breathed a sigh of relief. But then Kakashi had surprised all of them with his next decision.

We will not make this journey alone, he said, but with northern allies.

The ally, apparently, was Uchiha Sasuke.

[bogariel-frogariel]

The Bad Kids Visit Middle Earth Part 2

Part 2 of my fics. You can find it on ao3 as well, just look it up.

Aragorn tensed as Legolas' head spun around. The elf's heightened senses ensured that he was almost always the first of the Fellowship to become aware of anyone approaching.

 "Legolas! What do you sense?" he asked.

 Legolas frowned. "The trees are too thick to see them properly. But they do not look or sound like orcs, and the trees are telling me that they do not bring harm."

 "How many?"

 "Five… no six. I think it is the party that Mithrandir told us about."

 Aragorn nodded, and then looked around at the party. The hobbits had not noticed their exchange, but both Boromir and Gimli's hands had drifted to their weapons, though Gimli was scowling thunderously at them as they spoke in elvish.

 Gandalf was sitting on a moss covered rock, leaning back against a tree trunk as he smoked his pipe grumpily. The wizard had been even more grumpy than usual in the last day but Aragorn did not have time to be watching over him. Honestly, he should have been just about the only member of the Fellowship that Aragorn didn't have to worry about.

 Everyone else was so young.

 He knew, in standard human years, he was not much older than Boromir, possibly younger, but he still had the vaster experience between the two of them. He had seen much more battle than the son of the Steward probably ever would, and he knew he must accommodate Boromir's complicated feelings towards himself, for they were more than justified.

 Gimli was the other of a similar age to him if dwarvish years were translated into human ones. At just over a decade shy of one hundred and fifty years old, Gimli was in his prime. However, he had also spent much of his life protected within Erebor, ever since the dwarves returned there nearly eighty years ago. And, of course, Aragorn would need to manage the animosity that he held towards other species, particularly elves, an attitude of suspiciousness that had been deeply ingrained in him since birth. Only the hobbits seemed to get exemption from his prickly moods.

 Speaking of the hobbits, they were who Aragorn was most worried about. Though halflings lived almost as short a lives as Men, their youths stretched long, with almost half their lives taken up by youthful inexperience. It came from living in such a sheltered and peaceful place as the Shire, an environment that had done nothing to prepare any of them for the horrors to come.

 And then there was Aragorn's dearest friend, Legolas. He perhaps had closer friends in his foster brothers at Imladris, but Legolas was one of the few beings that Aragorn could trust completely. Every time they met, it was as if they had never left each other, and he truly enjoyed the other's company. However, if Aragorn and Gimli were of an age approaching thirty when their respective species were compared to Men, then Legolas was barely over nineteen. The elf was centuries old, having reached his physical maturity at the same rate as humans, and his majority within elven society at the end of his first one hundred years of life, but he was still some three centuries under a thousand years old, and he knew that all elves were not truly viewed as adults until they had seen their first millennia.

 It took much time for elves to overcome their inexperience within the world, their slowed ageing also slowing the latter of their youth years, so from the age of seventeen to one thousand, they would largely remain unchanged, and then mature slightly more rapidly for another hundred years before they remained in the unearthly beauty of their immortality for the rest of their unending lives.

 It had been one of the reasons that Aragorn had ultimately decided to branch out from his elven family; he knew they would be unable to truly treat him as an adult until he had gone off on his own and collected some experience outside their watchful gazes. He did not blame them for their stifling protectiveness, it was in their nature.

 So, in a way, despite physically being the second oldest in the Fellowship, he was also the youngest. Not that his foolish friend would ever let anyone other than Mithrandir and Aragorn ever discover that.

 At least, they would be getting help now.

 Mithrandir had explained to them that the gods themselves had sent them a gift, reached out and borrowed warriors from another world to aid them in their quest.

 He had warned them of what to expect: that the gods had been unable to send anyone of too significant a power, lest the secrecy of their quest be jeopardised, which was why the newcomers would be unable to physically interact with the ring, or any other weapon of Sauron other than his minions. (That, at least, was a positive in Aragorn's eyes, for he would not have to worry about them falling prey to the Ring's power.)

 They had one directive only: to help them defeat Sauron's forces within Middle Earth, and then they would be returning to their own home.

 Eventually, the group emerged from the tree line, and Aragorn couldn't stop the slight frown that pulled at his lips.

 Mithrandir had told them that they were from another realm, one beyond the reaches of even the gods, and that in their realm, different races lived together freely as there were no inherently evil races. He had warned them that three of their new companions would be of races that they would find rather distressing, but that they weren't like the orcs and goblins that the Fellowship knew of. They were… good somehow.

 Only the Fellowship and those who could practice magic would see their true forms, to all others the goblin would look like a hobbit, the half-orc (the thought of one of those made Aragorn shudder) would appear as an exceptionally tall human, and the… devil would look like a normal elf. Not that Aragorn had any idea what a devil was, but Mithrandir had seemed far too annoyed to bare trivial questions that would interrupt the rather clipped warnings he was giving them about their new allies.

 However, Mithrandir had been right, the goblin and half-orc (which he immediately knew were the shortest and tallest of the group respectively, the colour of their skin and unique body shapes) looked nothing like any orc or goblin that Aragorn had seen. There was a complete lack of the cloying darkness that seemed to surround them. Aragorn could not sense the energy as well as elves, but after so many years surrounded by elven magic, and the residual power in his blood gave him some ability to feel them. And none of the people in front of him were setting off any of his senses.

 So, Aragorn smiled and stepped forward.

 "Greetings, friends," he said, with as much warmth and confidence as he could muster.

 The blond elven girl and the girl that would have also appeared elven if it weren't for her light pink skin and the black horns protruding from her hair (Aragorn the slightly shorter girl must have been the… devil that Mithrandir spoke of) stepped forward.

 "Hello," the elf replied with a smile.

 "We’re happy to join you on your quest," the devil said, grinning openly.

 "We are grateful to have you," Aragorn returned, dipping his head respectfully. "I am Aragorn…"

 He went on to introduce the rest of the Fellowship, each of them giving a small gesture to call attention to themselves as Aragorn said their names.

 "… and the… esteemed wizard to my right is mostly commonly known as Gandalf the Grey," Aragorn finished.

 "Well met," the elven girl said before also giving a more formal greeting in elvish.

 "I'm Adaine Abernant," she introduced.

 "And I'm Fig Faeth," the devil chimed in.

 The dark skinned boy nodded as he introduced himself. "My name is Fabian Seacaster."

 The goblin also nodded. "I'm Riz Gukgak."

 The tall one gave an awkward wave. "Uhh… Gorgug Thisltespring."

 Finally, the human girl lifted one of the hands off her huge staff that was curled at the top and gave a more confident wave. "My name is Kristen Applebees."

 Aragorn was about to ask more questions about their skills but Legolas suddenly shifted behind him and when Aragorn looked at him, he had his bow in hand.

 "There is something very large approaching," he explained, reaching back to grab an arrow.

 Master Seacaster clapped his hands together. "Ahh, that is just my animal companion… the Hangman."

 "Please don't shoot him," Miss Faeth requested. "He won't hurt anyone here."

 "Well, unless they attack Fabian," Miss Applebees said only to be elbowed in the leg by Master Gukgak.

 "He won't hurt anyone unless Fabian orders him to," Adaine assured them. "And Fabian won't order them to hurt anyone. Right Fabian?"

 Master Seacaster, who was looking off into the forest, in the same direction that Legolas was glaring in, shook himself and glanced back at the female elf.

 "What?" he asked, blinking. "Oh yes. Of course, I won't ask him to attack anyone here. He's only roaming around the forest to scout for danger."

 Before anyone could say anything else, a black mass burst from the tree line, zipping straight to Master Seacaster's side and coming to an abrupt stop.

 Now that it was no longer a blur of movement, Aragorn could see that the figure was a great, hulking hound, as big as any warg that Aragorn had ever encountered. The hound as leaning up against Master Seacaster, its tail wagging as the boy patted it's head.

 "Yes, hello, Hangman," the boy said, grinning more brightly than he had been previously. "What did you find?"

 The new group nodded along at the hound's huff, as if they could understand it.

 "Well," Miss Applebees said. "That's good news. There's nothing in the forest that's going to try and kill us."

 "What would you like to do?" Adaine asked. "We have been instructed to follow your directives whenever possible."

 Aragorn contemplated this for a few moments before he answered, "We're less than three hours from the forest borders and then we'll be on open plains until we hit the next ridge of mountains. We will walk for an hour before we make camp again. Tomorrow will be a long day."

 From tomorrow, there would be no more hiding in forests along the mountains, they would need to find rock formations to camp under. Soon they would need to choose what path we would take.

 Everyone acknowledged Aragorn with a nod.

 "We can help you make you break camp, if you would like?" Adaine asked.

 Aragorn shook his head. "We should be ready to travel in five minutes. Take the time to rest."

 Miss Faeth smiled at him. "Thank you! Adaine made us get up really early."

 Adaine glared at her. "You agreed to get up at that time. It's not my fault it was my job to get you all up."

 Miss Faeth rolled her eyes and all of the newcomers drifted towards each other, forming a circle around the Hound as they quietly talked amongst each other. When Aragorn glanced at them half way though his sweep of the camp to make sure they didn't leave anything behind, he saw various bits of food in all their hands.

 The newcomers easily dispersed themselves as the party walked. As usual, Legolas scouted far ahead in front of them for their next campsite, though Master Gukgak walked off to the side of them, almost disappearing into the trees. Master Damian and the Hangman flanked the hobbits, who walked at the centre of their party and Master Thistlespring and Miss Faeth reinforced the rear, where Boromir and Gimli were walking, whilst Adaine and Miss Applebees walked along only a few metres behind Aragorn and Mithrandir, murmuring quietly between each other.

 True to form, after an hour, Legolas returned to them, informing them of a suitable clearing not far off, with a few birds in his hands that they could cook up for dinner.

 Sam perked up at the sight, bustling forward and taking it from the elf with a hesitant 'thank you' before he started preparing them and Miss Applebees wandered off with him whilst Master Thistlespring and Master Seacaster went into the forest with Bormoir and Merry and Pippin to start collecting firewood.

 As usual, everyone else went about their own business, setting out their bed rolls and tending to their personal gear as they whiled away the hour or so until dinner would be ready. Aragorn asked Legolas to stand watch, for he knew that the elf preferred that activity, as he was uncomfortable speaking with large groups of unknown people.

 The young elf would need to learn to become friendly with the group, but Aragorn didn't want to push his friend. Hopefully, with another elf here, everyone would open up. The Hangman paced a circle around the camp, apparently joining the elf in his watch.

 Adaine walked over to Aragorn just as he was trying to decide what job to assign himself.

 "How would you like to assign overnight watches?" she asked.

 "Am I correct in assuming that you only need half as much rest as the others in this group?" Aragorn questioned and the elleth nodded.

 "You are. I was thinking that Legolas and I could take alternating shifts each night, with someone else also up to cover blind spots," she suggested. "If that is what you want to, of course."

 Aragorn smiled and nodded. "That sounds reasonable. And good for the whole company. It should ensure that everyone gets as much rest as possible. We usually don't have the hobbits stand watch, as they are all rather young and they need to conserve their strength. Besides, none of them have seen proper combat before, and would not know what to look for whilst on watch."

 Adaine frowned at that but did not argue. Instead, she was distracted by Miss Applebees coming up to her and grabbing her arm.

 "We need you down by the fire, Adaine," she said. "Sam's wants a few ingredients for the soup he's making us. And I want to braid your hair before it gets too dark. We probably won't have time tomorrow and it might get in the way on open plains."

 Aragorn's eyes widened at that statement. For elves, hair braiding required an incredible amount of trust. It was not a duty given out lightly. Aragorn himself, had only ever been given the privilege a few times, and that was with elves that he had spent his whole life with. However, Adaine just smiled, nodding goodbye to Aragorn and allowing herself to be led over to a rock that had been dragged over to a fire that was already blazing healthily.

 As he watched the human started braiding a complicated design into the elf's hair, as the blonde pulled items out of a pouch at her waste, producing potatoes and herbs seemingly from mid-air, much to the delight of Samwise.

 Aragorn couldn't help but marvel at the scene.

 These new folk were strange indeed. However, they had a strong bond of trust that would not be broken easily, and they would truly help the Fellowship in their endeavours.

[toushindai]

again to fly away

Post-epilogue, 1.9k. Even the summary is a bit spoilery, so that’s below the cut.

[ Read on AO3 ]

Nyx gives Persephone a gift before she returns to her mother.

(“Well, with your family, one learns to take precautions.”)

x

Persephone is dressed not in her regalia but in a simpler gown when she pokes her head around Nyx’s corner.

“I’m going to spend a little time in the garden, Nyx. Would you care to join me?”

Nyx looks down at her own midnight robes. “Should I change first?” she asks, sincerely unsure.

“No need! I just wanted to look over everything before I prepare to leave.”

That does not seem to be the entire purpose behind her invitation; usually, she tends to the garden on her own, or with Hades’ help, and Nyx notices that she offered her invitation only minutes after Zagreus’s latest departure. But, if there is something her Queen wishes to discuss in private, then Nyx will gladly oblige. And besides, any time spent with Persephone is a treasure.

So she follows Persephone outside, floating effortlessly behind her as the younger goddess waters the hedges. “Those flowers you keep in your little corner,” Persephone says, “Hades tells me they were a gift from Zagreus?”

“They were.” Nyx smiles, a bit wistfully. “He commissioned them without warning, one night when I was attending to other business, and they startled me when I returned, but they made me think of you. They have brought me more joy than I foresaw.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They are.”

“You’ve raised him to be so thoughtful, Nyx. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Mm.” Nyx thinks of the young prince. “I do not believe that I am solely to thank for his upbringing. Achilles has shaped him as well, and his father, in his own way. And while I may take some credit for his thoughtfulness, that cannot be fully conflated with his kindness.” She averts her gaze, cupping a pomegranate blossom in her hand. “You know well that I have struggled, in the past, to demonstrate such kindness; to empathize before I think of practical matters. In this regard, I have tried to learn from you, and to treat both the prince and others under my care with tenderness when it is appropriate. But I am not sure that I am the reason that Zagreus learned such an instinctive kindness as he shows to all those he meets.”

“Nyx.” Persephone draws near and takes Nyx by the elbow, looking up into her face. “You have always been so kind to me.”

“Not always,” Nyx disagrees. When the Fates first brought Hades to this realm, her realm; when Zeus, shortly thereafter, deposited Persephone here and the tendrils of light and life that the younger woman inevitably carried with her infiltrated Nyx’s carefully cultivated darkness, upsetting the balance that she had been fighting so hard to maintain—Nyx had been curt, then, and unwelcoming, injured by the implication that her control (already costing her everything) was not enough. If Hades had not been so gruffly dutiful and Persephone so patient and willing to listen, there might have been a clash that tore the Underworld in two. But Nyx is at least observant, and unlike Chaos at their distant remove she has learned to respond to the world around her. Hades and Persephone had helped to shape the Underworld into something that could be controlled. And from the two of them, Nyx learned a little more about interaction, about the subtle skill it takes for a being to exist alongside another being.

Now, tenderly, she touches Persephone’s face. “I know that I was part of what made your adjustment to the Underworld so difficult the first time, my Persephone. I only hope that this time, I have not repeated my old mistakes.”

But Persephone cups her hand over Nyx’s, smiling ruefully. “You haven’t, Nyx, not at all! You’ve been more welcoming than I can say, and you know that I missed you. Our early difficulties, you had already made up for a thousand times by the time I left.”

The Queen’s eyes are honest. Nyx lets herself trust them. “Then, good.”

“Then, good, indeed!” Persephone gives her hand a little squeeze. “Don’t worry so much about ancient history, all right, Nyx? We’ve all changed. I’m not that impulsive young woman anymore, either.”

“No, you aren’t,” Nyx agrees.

“Exactly.” Persephone turns back to her flowers, but he does not release Nyx’s hand; Nyx trails obligingly after her to observe what Persephone is observing. She half-expects the Queen to explain some detail of care for the plants, some task she would like Nyx to perform in her absence. But, instead, a hint of seriousness comes into her voice. “Speaking of impulsivity…. Well, perhaps that isn’t a fair transition. Nyx, I wanted to ask you, what was Zagreus like as a child?”

Nyx looks at her in confusion. “Zagreus, as a child?”

“Yes.” Persephone’s face is as serious as her voice. “I will confess, I am asking with an ulterior motive. Supposing Mother should inquire about her grandson, I don’t want her to catch on that I wasn’t around for his upbringing.”

Nyx feels a pulse of fear, and conceals it. “Ah. You are clever to think ahead of such a possibility,” she says, and Persephone winces in answer. “Do you think that Goddess Demeter would try deliberately to entrap you thus?”

Persephone gives a wry smile. “She may. She used to do so when I was young, catching me in little lies about whether I had spent the night obediently in my bed or gone out running through the fields. Maybe it’s silly, to worry about such things like I’m still a child, but…”

“You know your mother best, my Queen. If this is a concern you have, then I will do all I can to alleviate it. Including telling you stories of Zagreus’s younger days.”

“Thank you, Nyx.”

Nyx hesitates, though, because telling stories cannot be all that she can do. She enfolds Persephone’s hand between both of her own and looks seriously at the goddess of verdure. “To tell the truth, I would prefer not to have to send you back to your mother.”

Persephone looks back solemnly. “I know,” she says. “Hades has said the same, and I know Zagreus is thinking it, too. And I… I don’t mind the idea of reconciling to Mother, but I wish I felt that I had a little more choice in the matter. If she were not holding the mortal world hostage, if Hades didn’t fear that she would start a war over me… well, it’s funny, but I think I’d be more willing to visit her, if that were the case. But I must go. This all started because I seized an opportunity to run away from my problems, and it’s spun out of control for long enough.”

“I understand.” She does not like it, but she understands. “Will you forgive me if I send something along with you, to keep you company and keep you safe?”

A smile comes back to Persephone’s face. “There would be nothing to forgive, Nyx! I would treasure something to remember you by. As for keeping me safe, well… I know what my family is like. We can’t be too careful.”

“Then give me three nights before you depart, and I shall have something for you. But for now…” She draws Persephone over to the bench at the edge of the garden, and they sit down together. “Let me tell you of your son’s youth. There is much to tell, for Prince Zagreus was not always as well-behaved as he is nowadays…”

*

Busy though the Underworld is, it does not take Nyx the full three nights she requested to fashion her gift for Persephone. She lets the time pass, anyway; darkness seeps into the gift, strengthening its power and Nyx’s connection to it. But she cannot force Persephone to tarry for too long. When the fourth day dawns—after Persephone has said her good-byes to her son and seen him off on another escape attempt—Nyx pulls her aside and places the newest Chthonic Companion into her outstretched hands.

Surprise crosses Persephone’s face as she sees what it is. “A Chthonic Companion, for me? Don’t you think I’m a little old for this?” For a moment, there is severity in her face, and Nyx wonders if she has misstepped, making a stuffed animal for the woman who rejected the name maiden. But then Persephone breaks out into a warm smile. “I’m only joking. It’s adorable, Nyx. It’s a swallow, isn’t it?”

“It is.” A bird whose arrival in the land of Greece above foretells spring. The Companion is made in a red and black that recalls the Queen’s regalia, with a pale wheat-colored belly that matches her hair. Nyx selected the emeralds carefully to reflect Persephone’s beautiful green eyes.

Persephone cups the swallow in her hand, turning it this way and that to admire it. “I always loved swallows. Mother taught me to watch for them when the winter grew too long to bear. I love it, Nyx, thank you. Does she have a name yet? A fable?”

“Not yet.”

“Is it all right if I come up with all of that?”

Nyx smiles. “I would be honored.”

“Then when I am lonely for the Underworld and missing you, I will tell myself stories of how Mother Night fits into this little one’s life.” She presses the Companion to her chest and then tucks it into the top of her bag.

Nyx takes her hands and draws her closer to the wall, speaking quietly. “It is not only a keepsake to remind you of me, my Queen. Should you ever feel that you are in danger there on Olympus—”

“I know,” Persephone says. “Zagreus has told me all about how they work when he carries them through his father’s realm. Are you promising to burst into the light in my defense, should my mother and all the rest not treat me with all the respect I deserve?”

“Yes, I am.”

Persephone speaks lightly, but Nyx does not. She did not realize it until the Queen returned to the Underworld, but the truth is that Night Incarnate would gladly start a new war and end it in the same moment if that was what it took to keep Persephone safe.

Seeing the sincerity in Nyx’s eyes, Persephone falters for a moment. Then she squeezes Nyx’s hands tightly. “Let us hope that things do not come to that,” she says.

“I will always hope the same, Persephone.”

And then Persephone releases her hands in order to throw her arms around Nyx. Nyx is startled for a moment—she fears for the propriety of such an embrace here in the formality of the House—but when Persephone does not release her, she returns the gesture, holding Persephone’s head close to her breast. “I will miss you,” she confesses.

“I’ll miss you too, Nyx. You’ll write, won’t you? All the time?”

“Of course I will.”

“I will, too. We’ll give Hermes quite a workout, ferrying our letters back and forth.”

“I am sure he will appreciate the opportunity.”

They stay like that a moment longer, until some deep part of Nyx feels something slip ever so slightly out of balance. “You must not keep Charon waiting any longer, my Queen,” she says.

Persephone sighs. “You’re right, of course. Then I’ll go. But I’ll be back this time, Nyx. I swear it.”

“We will all look forward to your return.”

“I will as well. Farewell, Nyx. None of you may forget how much I love you all, you understand? I forbid it.”

Nyx answers with a half-bow, and Persephone leaves through the garden, turning once to make her swallow’s wing wave one last good-bye. And then, as Charon ferries her away, Nyx watches the golden thread of her existence wind its way all the way up to the surface and into the blinding light.

[sneksue]

Official Post About Lifestyle Changes

The date is January 28, 2021. 

I have not had chickens for a while. It will be 2 years in August. I have been meaning to write something here about all of it, but I either have not had time, or the willpower to go through with it. I was in grieving. 

In June of 2019, I took a trip from my shared homestead in Mississippi to Colorado to do some long distance hiking. I left all of my animals in the care of my ex husband’s mother and her then boyfriend. 

I trusted them to at least do the bare minimum in my animal’s basic care. 

That didn’t happen. They failed night after night to close and lock the coop’s door. They wouldn’t change their water during the day and they did not collect eggs. 

When I had service on my phone during the hike, I checked in with them to find out that because they had not closed or locked the coop door at night, several birds were “missing”, with more missing every day. 

Instead of simply closing the door and providing a safe space for my dear, darling animals to sleep at night, they decided to buy a game camera to see what was happening to them at night. 

Their reasoning had absolutely zero logic, and I was pretty pissed.

They found that raccoons were simply just waltzing into the coops and grabbing birds. The raccoons would drag them away into the woods and feast. 

By the time our trip was almost over, all of my ducks were gone. There were only a few chickens left, and the guinea fowl were all intact due to roosting 50ft up in oak trees. My cat was also “missing”.

I was heartbroken, devastated. I had spent so much money, time, energy, and love to build this flock. I wanted to provide my “family” and myself with sustainable, renewable food in case of a natural disaster. No one seemed to value my efforts, or even care to see what my end goal was. 

On top of grieving for the loss of my feathered babies, my then husband’s younger brother decided to GO OFF on me during our drive back to Mississippi. He claimed I was selfish, psychotic, uncaring, and manipulative. He screamed at me while we were all stuck in the car. He called me a bitch, he called me a liar, he called me a leech. I was stunned in silence. I had been struggling with my mental health for years, and had contemplated suicide more times than I could count. So, it is no surprise that while we were driving 70mph on the interstate, I seriously contemplated opening the car door and leaping out into traffic. 

I turned to my husband, my partner, the love of my life, my support system, to back me up. Defend me. Tell his brother that he was wrong. My husband did nothing of the sort. He remained silent as the verbal barrage from his brother continued. 

Everything clicked for me then. My mother in law was a complete nutcase, she blamed me for all of my husband’s shortcomings. She viewed me as a failure for not being the perfect housewife. She only saw me as a burden on her son’s happiness. My husband maintained an emotional distance from me for several years. He refused to be intimate towards me. He never showed an interest in me, my thoughts, my feelings. He never stood up for me or was proud to show me off. He never commended my strengths and triumphs, he only pointed out what he viewed were my failures. My brother in law was more of a nutcase than his mother, physically abusing his dog and neglecting his cat, leeching off of his mother and getting handouts at every possible opportunity, spending his days smoking hundreds of dollars of marijuana, drinking booze, playing videogames. 

I had no social life, I wasn’t allowed to have a social life. 

I had no friends I could hang out with, all of my friends were online. 

No matter how much I did for these people and how much I excelled at everything I did, nothing was ever enough. I was never enough. 

No wonder I struggled with mental health, eh?

I came to this realization instantaneously, and demanded to be dropped off at my dad’s house in Westminster, CO. 

I had none of my personal belongings besides my hiking and camping stuff. I didn’t care, I just had to get away from these toxic monsters. 

My husband and I loosely decided that this would be a “break” for our relationship, and that he would go back to MS to work and save up to move here with me. I agreed and I began working and saving up myself. 

We both knew he was never going to come here. We were never going to be together again. 

We remained in close contact for a few months after the separation. But the contact and our conversations became fewer and less substantial. 

One night, as I was walking home from work, I called and told him that I thought we should break up. He admitted to me that he had removed his wedding ring over three weeks prior. I was understandably hurt by that, but I did understand. 

He also informed me that all of the birds were gone or dead except for a couple roosters. 

I was more devastated by the loss of my birds than the loss of my marriage. If that doesn’t tell you enough, I don’t know what does!! 

My cat never returned. 

I asked him if we could keep in contact, and he told me he did not want to talk to me or hear from me for several years. I was once again hurt by this, but with his own mental health issues, I again, understood. He did say he can see us being friends in the future, but now that its been some time, I don’t want to be friends with him. I want the best for him, but I can’t bring myself to expose my mentality to his toxicity and negativity. 

I asked again and again, over a period of months, for him to return my belongings. He kept putting it off. I told him I was going to drive down there myself and gather everything i could and dispose of the rest. 

He agreed, initially, then banned me from coming only after I requested the time off from work and had friends to accompany me on the journey, He promised he’d send all my stuff in several shipments after he sold my car. I told him he could keep the profit from the sale of my car and use it to send me my stuff. 

He ended up sending me ONE box of my stuff. And most of it wasn’t even mine. I was appalled and disgusted that he’d be so careless and inconsiderate. 

I sent him messages and requested SPECIFIC items after I received the first box. I got no reply, and no more packages to this day have been sent. 

He and his family stole my property, killed my pets, and broke my heart. 

Thieves, liars, and extremists, the lot of them. 

I grieve daily for the loss of my animals and the torture I was put through for nearly 6 years. 

All of that out of the way, let me move on to tell you what this blog will now feature. 

I have obviously had a change in lifestyle. I no longer live on homesteading land, I live in a roomy two bedroom apartment with my AMAZING fiance. 

My love of chickens, I discovered, was a love for reptiles in general. Cuz birds are reptiles and all that jazz. 

When I met my fiance, I was already blown away by his attitude, confidence, and view on life right off the bat! He inspired me, made me want to be better to myself. 

Meeting him felt weird, at first. It felt weird because I was waiting for this amazing person to... have a catch. There’s gotta be a red flag somewhere. And if there isn’t... he is probably a psychopath who will eventually turn on me and kill me. No one is that... good. 

So I thought to myself, “Welp, gotta find out. I’ll go to his house!”

He had a couple little snakes in his room which I demanded to play with. He happily got them out and I was like “THAT’S the catch? Nah, this just convinces me this guy is... my kind of guy.” 

I’ve had a love of snakes since early childhood. Not an interest of passion, but I truly loved interacting with and watching them. I’ve never had an innate fear of any insect, (exclude honeybee, because I didn’t know better at 6 years old), or animal. I love them all and everything they do to contribute. All they experience. 

I used to catch wild garter snakes and rat snakes in nets, pet them, show them to my mother occasionally to freak her out, and release them. Then watch them. 

There were a mating pair of Oteekee Corn Snakes in my HS yard. Every summer we’d see them, out and about hunting, hiding, climbing... growing. They were bright red and jet black with specks of yellow. I could tell these guys were pretty smart and maybe there was more to snakes than I really thought about ever. 

So, being sold on this amazing guy, we up and moved in together. Nice. My paycheck kept going up and up. I was saving a ton. I wanted a car and an apartment as soon as possible. 

I got bonus after bonus for working hard at my job and everyone hitting labor targets. 

We got a place. Nice. 

Both got steady jobs. Nice. 

There’s uh, a lot of room in this new place. Nice. 

Hey it’s my birthday and I can get myself a snake. I have more than enough for supplies and the animal itself. 

I browsed on morphmarket for what felt like ages.... 

I had no idea that there were.... so many complicated genetics with ball pythons. I was highly interested, because if you know me, you know I’m interested in genetics and selective breeding. 

I found there were THOUSANDS of genetic combinations, each with unique names. It was like alien code. The animals were beautiful but I had no idea what I was really looking at. 

One night while going to our local reptile store to get feeder rats, I was looking around at all the glass window babies, as I usually do. 

I made my way around the scorpions, tarantulas, cave scorpions, frogs, lizards, the store’s companion burmese python, and my eyes landed on a little... adorable puppy-eyed baby ball python. The signage stated that it was a Puma. Seemed simple enough. Easy name to remember. I looked into the glass at the lil noodle, and talked all baby talk and shit. The sweet little thing came right up to scope at me, then yawned. 

I called an employee over and said I’d like to handle this animal right here. The employee obliged and I fell in love. Sexed as male. Easy buy. 

I cried on the way home, It was amazing. I have one picture on here of him a few days after I got him. His name is Mallow, and he is bigger now, but still just as sweet. 

So yeah. It went from there. Now, including the boa and ball python that are my fiance’s, and Mallow, we have added 3 more to our family. We are done now, as these animals may live a loooooong time. And they require space and attention just like any other pet. They’re not expensive, and they’re low maintenance care is nearly brainless if you set it up right. They’re statistically and actually safer than dogs or cats, and are absolutely therapeutic and entertaining. 

This blog will from this day forward be dedicated to snake content, reptile content, and a lot more fun, actually good pictures. I will also share genetic related stuff I find relevant. 

Not having a shitty phone camera is pretty great, tbh. 

TLDR: No more homestead. Ex is evil (yeah yeah), New place new animal new me. SNAKES! SNAKES!!!! SNAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEESSSSS!

I know this post is just for me but whatever, if I make myself laugh. Cool. G’night. 

[applepiewinchesters]

Four Times Aziraphale Wanted to Kiss You, And the Time he Finally Did (Aziraphale x Angel!Reader)

 *REQUESTS ARE CLOSED*

Requested by: Anonymous

Warnings: Maybe Angst, Fluffiness although that’s not really a warning

 The first time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was seeing you for the first time after the garden.

You were dressed in a long, flowing white dress and had come to stand beside him as you watched the animals being loaded into Noah’s ark. You were stunning, your hair in curls down your back, a popular style of the time. Just…stunning.

“Good to see you again, my dear,” Aziraphale said to you.

You smiled, “You as well, Aziraphale, I just wish it was during better circumstances” you told him.

Before Aziraphale could answer, you turned when you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning to see the demon, Crawley, standing beside you.

“Oh, hello again,” you said, giving the demon a polite nod.

Aziraphale silently cursed for the interruption, not that he wasn’t just slightly happy to see Crawley, he was a rather interesting companion.

“So, giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you?” Crawley asked, looking over to Aziraphale.

“The Almighty has never actually mentioned it again,” Aziraphale spoke.

“Most likely a good thing,” you added, the demon and angel beside you both nodded.

“What’s all this about?” Crawley asked, motioning towards the large boat in front of you all, “Build a big boat and fill it with a traveling zoo? From what I hear, God’s a bit tetchy.”

“Wiping out the human race,” Aziraphale said, lowering his voice, “Big storm.”

“All of them?” Crawley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just the locals,” Aziraphale told him.

“I don’t believe the Almighty is upset with the Chinese,” you said, “Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians.”

“Yet,” Crawley said, shrugging.

“And God’s not actually going to wipe out all the locals,” Aziraphale spoke, “I mean, Noah, up there, his family, and his sons, their wives, they’re all going to be fine.”

“But they’re drowning everyone else?” Crawley asked, looking around, “Not the kids? You can’t kill kids.”

You and Aziraphale both just nodded, a bit uncomfortable at the realization. “Well, that’s more the kind of thing you’d expect my lot to do,” Crawley said.

“Yes, but when it’s done, the Almighty’s going to put up a new thing called a rainbow, as a promise not to drown everyone again,” said Aziraphale.

“How kind,” Crawley said sarcastically, you sort of agreed with him, you weren’t as…devoted to the ineffable plan as Aziraphale was.

“You can’t judge the Almighty Crawley,” Aziraphale argued, “God’s plans are…”

Crawley cut him off, “Are you going to say “ineffable?” he asked.

“Possibly,” Aziraphale said, making you giggle softly, the sound was music to his ears.

That was the first time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you.

*

The second time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was when you met Shakespeare, you looked beautiful in your long, red velvet gown, your hair still long and flowing down your back, but Crawley, well, Crowley now, interrupted you once again.

Not to mention Shakespeare kept flirting with you for lack of a better word, reciting some of his new work to you as you giggled.

“Jealous?” Crowley asked, leaning over to Aziraphale, watching as you blushed at whatever Shakespeare was telling you.

“I-I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Aziraphale said, turning his gaze away from you to Crowley.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, “I’m not stupid Aziraphale, I can see the way you look at her, just get on with it already, it’s been a few thousand years after all.”

Aziraphale shook his head, “I can’t, she’s too…her, and I’m too me,” he said.

“Would you like me to tell her then?” Crowley asked, smirking.

Aziraphale nearly felt his heart jump out of his chest as he quickly shook his head, “No, no, please,” he said, making the demon chuckle.

“I’m only joking,” Crowley spoke, “but I would definitely snatch her up before someone like Casanova over there does.”

Aziraphale sighed, “I’ll tell her, at the right time,” he said, although he himself had no idea when that would be.

*

The third time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was in 1941 in London when you both thought you were going to be rather inconveniently discorporated by a couple of scumbag Nazis.

You were pretty bad ass that day, talking back to Nazis and all, he himself wasn’t exactly that brave.

Both of you were relieved when Crowley strolled in, well, more like interpretive danced into the room, given the consecrated ground and all.

“Crowley, what are you doing here?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“Coming to save you two! Can’t have you getting into trouble,” he spoke, still doing his little dance, it was rather comical.

“We were doing just fine Crowley,” Aziraphale spoke.

“Ah, Anthony J. Crowley, your fame precedes you,” one of the Nazi’s spoke.

“Anthony?” Aziraphale questioned, looking to Crowley.

“You don’t like it?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t say that, I’ll get used to it,” Aziraphale said.

“The famous Mr. Crowley,? That’s such a pity you must all die,” the Nazi woman spoke.

“What does the J stand for?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the demon, who shrugged.

“It’s just a J really,” he said, looking off to the side, “Look at that! A whole font full of holy water, doesn’t even have any guards.”

“Enough babbling!” one Nazi yelled, “Kill them all.”

After Crowley rerouted that bomb and Aziraphale saved you all from being discorporated, you were covered in soot from the destroyed church rubble now surrounding you.

Aziraphale came over to you, taking a handkerchief out of his jacket, “Here you are my dear,” he told you, smiling.

You smiled back, “Oh, thank you,” you said, using the cloth to wipe the soot off your face, you handed it back after you were done.

“Missed a spot,” Aziraphale said, reaching out and wiping a bit of soot off your cheek, you could feel your face heat up when you looked down sheepishly.

Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to feel that heat against his lips, but he didn’t, not that time at least.

*

The fourth time Aziraphale wanted to kiss you was shortly after you started helping him at his bookshop. You spent hours organizing books with him, finding just the right spots for everything.

He’d accumulated quite a collection over the years, and while he had no trouble organizing things, he was also happy to have some help, especially when it came from you.

After a really long day you’d even go out and buy dinner and pastries to eat together at small table by the window. It was one of his favorite things that came with you helping in the shop.

Another was when you’d bring him tea when you noticed he has having a particularly hard time organizing or trying to interpret some old language no one knew anymore.  

You were incredibly kind, but truly brave when you needed to be, it was something he loved about you. Also, you were different than most angels, sometimes going against protocol for the greater good of those surrounding you, not just heaven.

Aziraphale especially loved watching how careful you were with the books, carefully placing each of them on a shelf, especially if they were very old.

You were the only one he’s found to appreciate books as much as he did, and as he watched you, he wondered what your reaction would be from just a small kiss of appreciation.

Aziraphale shook these thoughts from his mind though, still not the right time he’d decided.

*

The fifth time Aziraphale wanted, and did, finally, kiss you, was when he came back to the bookshop after switching places with Crowley to help the other survive their punishments for stopping the apocalypse. You’d been spared for some reason, probably since Gabriel only had some weird thing against Aziraphale.

But the look on your face when he walked through the doors of the bookshop was so full of happiness and love that he knew this had to be the right time.

You’d run up to him and hugged him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder, “I’m so glad you’re alright,” you mumbled into his jacket.

Aziraphale smiled, wrapping his own arms around you, holding you close, “I could never leave you behind, love,” he told you, making you blush as you pulled away slightly from the hug, his hands still resting on your waist.

“My dear,” he started, “forgive me if this is completely inappropriate but…”

You’d cut him off, smashing your lips against his. He was quite shocked to say the least, but soon melted into the kiss, pulling you closer to him. You tasted just as sweet as he’d imagined, and your lips were incredibly soft.

When you pulled away, you giggled at how red Aziraphale’s face had gotten, “I’d been waiting to do that for about six thousand years,” you admitted, “I could see you did too, and I figured it was now or never.”

Aziraphale smiled, leaning down to press another gentle kiss to your lips, “That is just what I was thinking,” he told you.

When you’d both told Crowley you were officially together about a week later, he nearly burst with relief, “Finally!” he shouted, “I don’t think I could take another six thousand years of the sexual tension.”

Aziraphale had choked at his tea at that comment, while you on the other hand just laughed.

A/N: This took me a few hours to write, I kept getting stuck haha, but I hope you loved it! Thank you so much for reading and all the love! Requests will be open again either later this week or next week! Love you all! ~ Sara :)

[the-adventures-of-dave]

I have two random breed cats, ones very chill most of the time the other is a bit aggressive and when we got her she didn't show signs of aggression until we got her home. I feel like if you work with an aggressive animal you can make massive improvement to tone down the problems. just takes patience and love

That’s very true! An aggressive animal takes a lot of work, time, patience, and often money as well. If you are able to put that all into an aggressive animal, then you can end up with a fantastic companion. If you’re unable to do all that work for an aggressive animal, they can very well make your life a living hell.

Some people don’t have the ability to care for an aggressive animal for many reasons, and I totally respect that. It is hard caring for an aggressive animal! Only 1 1/2 years after getting Dave, I’ve spent thousands of dollars on his care, a majority of which have gone towards managing his aggression. I cannot sit in my living room for more than an hour at a time before Dave either needs attention or tries to bite me. Though he has improved since getting anxiety meds, he still draws blood multiple times weekly. I am afraid to have friends with kids visit me for fear that he will hurt them. That’s not even mentioning the many hours of research that I have put into managing his aggression. At this point, my life honestly revolves around Dave, and frankly I still consider his aggression to be moderate. He could be a lot worse.

It’s not realistic to assume everyone can look after an aggressive animal, especially one that poses more danger to a person like a large dog, horse, etc. And that’s okay! I wouldn’t say someone loves their pet any less for having to surrender an aggressive animal. Though we should always strive to make our pets quality of life great, we also have to remember that we need to maintain a good quality of life for ourselves. Your pet should not come before your safety and well-being.

Like you mentioned anon, aggressive pets take a lot of work! You either need to actively manage that aggression, surrender your pet to someone who can manage that aggression, or put the animal to sleep if it is an extreme danger to others. You can’t half-ass the care of an aggressive animal, or else it could end quite badly.

[universalpeonies]

Pillar Men Zodiacs

So I was driving around and I had a thought... the pillar men don’t have clear cut birthdays but have clear personalities, and the fan community has plenty of room to work with in developing their characters further. As one of my weird hobbies and latest interest in JJBA, its time to look at horoscopes!

So after leafing through my books, friends, and websites, I’ve got a few guesses as to who may be who in regards to zodiac signs:

!!!!MINOR SPOILER WARNING FOR JJBA PART 2!!!!!!

Wamuu:

Wamuu is most likely a Taurus: He is not a violent creature by nature, although it is stated and shown Wamuu does enjoy a good honorable fight any time of day he has standards (and the fact he’s technically a vampire so he is a violent creature in that sense). He is not a mindless killer, always thinking his way through battles and planning out the next moves, this can also be assumed that he analyzes everything rationally and quickly in high-pressure situations. Showing level-headedness as a staple of his character.

Emotions are not a personal weakness for him if anything it is his code of honor that dictates his actions. As such, he is reliable in his actions and will only do as much effort as necessary to carry it out. For him, there is no need for embellishment or grand spectacles. At the same time, this same code creates a sense of absolute loyalty to both Kars and Esidisi. He has shown to be largely obedient and even offers to punish himself after minoring transgressing either of the other two. The refusal to break his own code of honor shows stubbornness and consistency in addition to his aforementioned level-headedness.

I would argue that Wamuu is the ‘kindest’ of the pillar men due to his code. Again, killing is not something he enjoys as victory is what matters to him most and his pride is largely based on the victories he’s gained through abiding by the said code of honor. This is because to him, victories do not always have to result in death, and those he knows he could easily defeat are spared without a second thought. His practicality comes into play here as well in the sense of ‘Only take what you need to get the job done’, this is most apparent to me when he battles Joseph for the first time.

Santana:

Santana is most likely a Gemini: We didn't get to see much of this boi during the anime or much in the manga, on top of that he doesn't really talk that much. All we can discern from background commentary is that he is a man of few words, has the ability to analyze like his adopted brother, but has a very different approach to battle. Kars compares Santana to a dog when talking about his own fighting power, so it's fair to assume that perhaps Santana did not develop himself as much as he could in fighting and have and spent his time honing other skills. 

Perhaps his analytical skills specialized in observation. Living for thousands of years and seeing the world with three people who are focused on a single goal is a good environment to create a deviant personality within the group. Maybe while his family was off looking for the red stone, he decided to/ended up staying behind. In doing so he watched the world around him and had a silent but deep interest in what things were and how they worked. In addition to his ability to grasp complex concepts both literal (the physical composition of a machine gun) and the conceptual (a whole new language), I feel his own powers of contortion and body entering contribute to this theory. These powers literally involve the desire to learn deeply (contort himself into other creatures or environments) and his willingness/expertise of being able to adapt to a new environment and master it (new bodies that he takes control of). 

Personality wise from what I can gather, being a man of and the willingness to learn involves a sense of passivity and gentleness. Not every situation involves needing to charge mindlessly, however, once Santana understands something he wastes no time in putting his full energy into mastering it to make it his own. The active nature, the hasty nature of his actions, combined with his passive nature, the assumed background of his ability to learn and observe in silence, are the most obvious traits I've noticed that make me conclude he is a Gemini. 

Esidisi:

Esidisi is either a Cancer or a Libra: Esidisi is the only pillar man I had a difficult time assigning in the zodiac. We do not see nearly as much of him as Wamuu or Kars, but we see more of him than we see Santana. It goes without saying that he is the most emotional and expressive of the group, but beyond that, the only other things we see from him are his abilities to play mind games on a near equal level that Joseph displays (maybe that’s why his brain was something that was able to survive after the fight between the two?). His ability to have a wild mind on par with a Joestar shows creativity and an ability to be persuasive. These are points for him being a Cancer. However, these factors go hand in hand with diplomacy and show a sense of emotional intelligence, which are points for him possibly being a Libra.

In truth, half of the reasons I placed Esidisi where he is is because of two specific lines in the anime: when the anime recounts the history of the pillar men and Kars’ place in creating the stone mask Esidisi is referred to as “His sole ally.” When we look at what kind of person Kars is we see that it takes someone who is able to have not only a sense of passion that is equal to his towards either Kars’ ideals or Kars’ himself but also a sense of sympathy and understanding, points for being a Cancer and a Libra respectively. We also hear Kars speak “I am no warrior, nor am I a romantic.” when Wamuu was killed, it is safe to assume that the word ‘romantic’ referred to Esidisi yet again. This word is used far more often to describe Libras than Cancers, but romance could also refer to his tendency to be more in touch with his emotions and have them play an active role in his battle methods and overall behavior.  

Being a Libra myself, I can vouch for being indecisive. This is one of the most common traits that I do not see in Esidisi, considering he’s been with the same man for thousands of years and having his eyes focused only on one goal. But you could argue that this could be because of a passion he has for Kars or his ambitions, which makes it a toss-up between the two signs. When it comes to the weakness of these two zodiac signs, Esidisi fits both the Cancer and Libra profile. As the emotional one who has no doubt had a few bad days and from his outburst shows evidence of moodiness and pessimism (cancer traits). But self-pity, the literal root of the whole arm tantrum, is more than apparent. While Libras often tend to avoid confrontation, Esidisi is the one who goes out of his way to confront Joseph and get the stone. Overall due to his character being steeped in emotion and his own powers, fire literally symbolizing passion and emotion, he could go either way. I had the most fun analyzing him because he has the most to unpack. 

Kars:

Kars is a Virgo: This is the only one that I am truly decisive on because.... if you've seen the show, Kars’ nature is one of the most Virgo moods I have ever seen in my ding dang life. 

Where do I even start? Of course his obvious physical appearance, look I know all the pillar men have this attribute but holy fuck does it really shine when Kars takes the stage when he fights Lisa-Lisa and he lets his hair down. Luxurious and meticulously dressed to appear simple while delivering a message of his own personal view; that at the end of the day he is a god among those that walk on earth. That he was the one who chose to take those first steps towards achieving greatness for himself and those who followed him. His appearance is very much in line with the symbol of the Virgo itself, with his own beauty being on par with his zodiac. 

Throughout the entire series, we see him have tunnel vision towards a single goal, to obtain the red stone of Aja. He even had to remind his companions of their main goal more than a few times when either Wamuu or Esidisi got distracted. He stays grounded in the world and environment that surrounds them at that moment, appealing to the practical nature of Virgo. In addition, when it is time to act his analytical skills and intelligence are on full display. Able to use people, objects, and tools for his own accord under high-pressure situations to ensure victory is achieved. Taking account for every little detail to ensure perfection is a trademark of Kars’ sign. Plus at times when I was watching him, I couldn’t help but think of a few of Jenna Marbles’ moments that would fit him perfectly. 

A competent Virgo as an antagonist for any series spells trouble, but even meticulous Aztec vampires have their shortcomings. When I think about Kars in the series, as well as Esidisi, I almost always think about the fact he was a parent for thousands of years to two children who (assumedly) have never really left his side. So parenting methods and the outcome of both Wamuu and Santana are where I see the negative traits of the Virgo sign are most apparent. For example, a few of the negative traits of this sign are that they are overly-critical, fussy, harsh, and conservative in their methods. If you look at how Wamuu turned out as a fully grown developed adult, you will notice that he is extremely critical of his own behavior and carries a conservative nature when it comes to interacting with humans, I feel this sort of behavior had to be taught in a child. Maybe these tactics did not work that well on Santana, but whos to say what the actual psychology is of pillar men? Either way, in my opinion, I think harsh and strict methods must have been used at first to keep his family together and in line over the course of their thousand-year journey. That takes dedication, careful planning, and intensive organizational skills.

And that's it!! That's the train of thought I had in the past week. This was only for fun and none of this is canon, as far as I know, I hope you got some amusement from this!

[mskatesharma]

Alone

SPOILERS FOR 8x01

Working title ‘Jonno Really Needs a Hug’. So I realise I’m a week late with this, but I’ve been trying to properly sort out my thoughts on that parentage reveal by Sam (not one thought is pleasant) and this attacked me yesterday evening, and wouldn’t stop hounding me until I wrote it. So here, have some word vomit of Jon Snow dealing post parentage reveal. Let me know what you think! :)

The air is thick, getting thicker, Jon can feel it sticking like tar, and he’s choking. He’s long since told Sam to leave him, but his words linger, fester, and Jon can feel the truth of them on his chest. Did you know?

He had come down to the Crypts to seek some solace, some quiet. A familiar tiredness had started to settle into his bones again, since arriving back at Winterfell, and Jon found himself aching for the silence of the Stark family tombs, the comfort he always found from his Father’s statue. What would he have done in my place? It only took a few words for Sam to shatter the borrowed peace, to shatter Jon.

The air starts to claw. The hard stare of his ancestor’s statues judging. His mother’s ancestors. Do they judge my presence here amongst them? His mother’s statue is soft and lovely. Did she ever seek solace in this place? Did she ever think about having a son? It’s suffocating. He’s at the bottom of a crush, bodies piling on top of him. He needs to get out before he’s buried.

He turns, abruptly, and fights his way up the steep steps. Quickly, quickly, now. He throws open the doors, and sucks in a lungful of the night air as he puts his hands on his knees. It’s a violent rush, a sudden stabbing of nausea, and he vomits. He glances up, thankful the courtyard is quieter than when he had entered the crypts, and that no one seems to be paying him any heed.

Jon feels a harsh glare, turns his head to look behind him. Nothing. Of course they can’t follow him from the crypts. His skin begins to prick, and suddenly he isn’t far enough away. Breathing becomes heavy, laboured, and then he’s walking in whatever direction his legs are taking him, just as long as it’s not here.

He knows the frosty dark air should bite, longs for it to sink it’s cold heart into his being, if only to freeze the storm raging inside him, ice the waves causing him to feel dizzy. Duty…. Love….. Honour…. Family…. Did Lord Stark ever resent him? Resent his presence? Resent what his existence meant? Resent what the protection of his life cost him?

He finds himself longing for the days where his greatest worry was Catelyn Stark and her scorn-filled stare. Did she know? No, of course not. Would her treatment have been different had she been aware? Might she have treated me like her true born children? Jon’s stomach rolls as he finds he does not care for answer.

He can feel his blood licking in his veins, a bitter secret acrid on his tongue, and it’s not just bile he swallows down. Before he quite realises what is happening, he’s taking a practice sword and aiming at a target pole.

A stake is being driven into his into his heart, each forceful blow of the mallet a different realisation. Winter is Coming (thwack) Fire and Blood (thwack) A stain on Ned Stark (thwack) Lyanna and Rhaegar (thwack) Whore mother (thwack) Lord Stark is my father (thwack) Married in secret (thwack) Not my name (thwack) But my blood (thwack) We’ll talk about your mother (thwack) I promise (thwack) Aegon Targaryen (thwack) Not a bastard (thwack) Daenerys is Queen (thwack) Not a bastard (thwack) It’s treason (thwack) A son of two noble houses (thwack) Dany’s nephew (thwack) Not a bastard (thwack) Heir to the Iron Throne (thwack) Not (thwack) A (thwack) Bastard (thwack thwack).

He stumbles forward at the force of his last blow, the anguish flying from his mouth and the sword from his hands, across the empty courtyard. Yet still he can feel a hard stare. Away. He must retreat further away.

Exhaustion crashes over him and Jon blinks once, twice. His feet carry him forward once again, until he realises where the path he is taking leads, and forces himself to stop. Daenerys. His aunt. He wishes it false, a cruel jape by Sam in a moment of grief. He wishes it impossible. The Gods truly do play brutal games. Had they not toyed with him enough?

He wants to feel her hand in his, to feel the comfort her presence provides; a comfort he had not allowed himself to dream of finding. He longs for it now the most. He wants to go back to the waterfall, back to the rush of being with his love and riding a dragon. We could stay a thousand years, no one would find us. He should have insisted they stayed.

Will she want to look at him? Would she be disgusted with him? True heir to the Iron Throne. No, NO. Daenerys is Queen, the rightful ruler of these lands, these kingdoms. He wants her to know, needs her to know. He wants to fall at her feet, give her no reason to doubt him.

He wants to run to her, have her arms encircle him once more. He wants to be back on that ship, with quiet sweet words, with a physical intimacy his body always craves, humming just under the surface. He loves her and he’s her nephew. He feels she loves him, can see it in her eyes, knows it in her gentle caresses. And yet the steady ground she provides for him is irrevocably shaken.

No one stops him as he makes his way back into the keep, and he’s grateful. He takes the darker corridors, hidden stairs; routes well known to a bastard, one who is supposed to live in the shadows. A Warden’s work is never done, especially one preparing for battle, but he knows he cannot speak, does know what he might say, what exactly might spill from his lips.

He finds himself outside his boyhood chambers, those he occupied before he left for The Wall. He opens the door, and finds the stale air does not bother him. No one is currently occupying this room, surprising with the sudden increase of the castle’s population. There is no longer a bed, just some furs thrown over some drawers, and Jon is thankful for how unbusy it is.

How many hours, days, had he spent in this room thinking of his mother. Wondering if she was kind, imagining her face. Did she love him, did she care? He doesn’t know how long he gazed at her statue this evening, motionless time, spent looking, thinking, of her life, of her death, bleeding and in pain, her last thought of him. Would she be proud of him?

He remembers an overwhelming childhood thought, that his mother had thought he would be a bad son, a bad person, a bastard could be no other thing after all , and so she could not bear to keep him, to give him the loving touch of a mother. And Lord Stark, the most honourable man, with all that is good, did not shirk his responsibility. His example gave Jon the thing he clung to as a child, determined to be the best son he could be, the best person he could be. To show enough to earn a place as one of Lord Stark’s sons, to be more than a stain on his reputation.

And what of his Father? An uncle, not a father. For so long being the son, even the bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark had been his only source of pride. He should have wondered about his father too. But it’s gone, decimated by a lie, and Jon feels his breathing grow shallow.

Robb and Sansa and Arya and Bran and Rickon. Cousins, not siblings. Would his remaining family turn from him, reject him, cast him from the only home he thought he would know. Elia. Aegon and Rhaenys. Murdered and butchered, for their name, for their father, and yet here he is, life protected by a blanket of snow.

So many dead for the sake of a lie….

Deeper, deeper, further down he spirals.

A sound at the door breaks him away from the knot of thoughts. A scratching, followed by a low whine, and Jon scrambles to the door. Ghost.

Of course; he isn’t surprised, knows he can feel his anguish, this creature, this beast that is a part of him. The dire wolf enters, and Jon sinks his hands into his animal’s soft fur. He rests his forehead against the door as he closes out the rest of the castle. He feels Ghost nuzzling his side, and Jon turns before collapsing against the door.

His wolf sits, protectively. He remembers the times the when the wolf felt like the only friend left to him. Arriving at The Wall. Stupid green boy. Running to Robb after Fa-Ned...Your Brothers brought you back. Ygritte’s death. You were wrong to love her. The loneliness of being Lord Commander. Didn’t want it. Arriving back after Hardhome. You failed them. Betrayed and murdered. I should have stayed dead. Every move as King in the North being questioned. Didn’t want it didn’twantitdidn’twantit.

He can feel the cracks throughout his soul; ruptures and fractures, a million different pieces, spreading, until there is nothing whole.

Ghost pressing his snout into his face brings him the only warmth Jon knows is available to him now. The only thing that feels real in this moment.

It’s only here, with Ghost, as he buries his face into his only companion’s fur, does he allow himself to so completely break.