#until they get a quiet moment to themselves and realize that maybe it won't be that bad if they're together

[theminecraftbee]

Joe isn't looking at them, Cleo realizes. He's not looking at them, and not paying attention, which is concerning, since they're talking about Halloween decorations, and that's one of Joe's favorite things, and also about the bloody aftermath of the social game they'd just played, and that's another one of Joe's favorite things. But no--he's standing just outside of the Clocktower Village, and he's nodding along in the right places, but he's not looking at them.

They frown and tries to figure out where he's looking. His hands, mostly.

They stop talking. They take a breath. "Joe?"

"Yes, Cleo?" Joe says.

"You aren't paying attention," they say.

"I would never not pay attention to your wonderful words," Joe says.

"What were we talking about?"

"Well, blood and mayhem, mostly."

"...that's on me. I made that too easy," Cleo says. "But, Joe, if something's wrong, you can say so."

Joe is quiet.

"Or you can, like, not say anything?" they say. "I won't make you. Just, you also don't have to pretend to pay attention to me."

"Right, my bad. I'll pretend to ignore you instead."

"That's the spirit."

"Did you know I noticed the moon get big on Halloween?"

Cleo doesn't know how to respond, so they don't. They don't mean to look away from Joe, because that's rude, when he's saying something so important, but they do, a little bit, glancing up for a moment at the moon. It's large and nearly full, but there's a sliver waning away. The full moon, if they remember right, was a few days ago. They don't know why they felt like they needed to check.

"I noticed the moon get big on Halloween," Joe says again. "I mean, I didn't really. I just thought it was cool we had such a big full moon for Halloween. It made everything so much spookier, you know? It was only a little bit bigger, then. I didn't realize until later it had been getting bigger for--at least a week? Probably at least two? It grew so slowly then."

"I didn't know that," Cleo says.

"Well, I didn't say anything," Joe says. "I probably should have said something. I don't know. It's just--it's been two years now? It's been two years, and no one talks about it. I mean, sometimes in December, I guess, and at the start of the season we talked about it a little bit, but no one--I have a place in my base I'm already keeping everything important, and you and Cub have museums, and I keep on thinking that the museums are good, because if we were all gone tomorrow, and someone had to come pull something out of the rubble--is it stupid? Did it happen? Cleo, sometimes I feel like I'm crazy. No one talks about it. Maybe we shouldn't talk about it? Maybe it didn't matter? We're all fine now, we're all here, it didn't happen again, it's been two years since I had to miss you. And I love Halloween, and I noticed the moon get big on Halloween then, but it probably won't again, I mean, it was a freak thing, and, I just--does it even--did it matter, was it really bad, was it--"

He stops because Cleo's grabbed his hands, gently. They lower themselves down so they are looking Joe directly in the eyes.

"It was real. It mattered. It was bad," Cleo says.

Joe swallows and stares them in the eyes.

"I will never do that again," Cleo says.

"I won't make you promise that," Joe says. "I don't want to make you promise that."

"Okay. But it was bad. It mattered. It was bad," Cleo says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

They stare at each other a little longer, and then slowly, Joe removes one of his hands from hers and looks back up at the sky.

"It's a waning gibbous," he says.

"That's what that's called?" Cleo says.

"Yeah," Joe says.

"Huh," Cleo says. "Sort of a boring name for a moon phase to have killed each other under, really."

Joe laughs. "You've got a point there. Not the most dramatic of moons, the waning gibbous."

"No, I can say that's not the most dramatic of moons at all," Cleo agrees, and then they are both silent for some time as they continue walking back towards Hermitcraft proper.

[azrielbrainrot]

Azriel is Mean

Warnings: smut, this is just smut

Notes: I'm not a writer so keep your expectations low. This man just drives me insane and I have way too many thoughts.

The world is completely quiet and dark. The wind is calm and the moon is bright in the sky. It's a perfect spring night which tells you that it has to be close to early morning otherwise the Velaris party goers would still be making themselves known. You can vaguely recall the muffled sounds of revelry filtering in through the closed windows when this first started. How long has Azriel been torturing you for then? None of these clues give you enough information. Or maybe they do. Your mind is having trouble focusing on a single thought at the moment.

"What's going through that pretty little brain of yours?" The sweet darkness of his voice pulls you right back to reality with a gasp. The brief moment of clarity is enough to make you even more aware of all your senses. The ache in your hands from the tight grip you have on the dark navy sheets. The soreness in your legs from holding the same position for so long. The dryness in your throat from fruitless pleas. And the wetness. You can almost feel your core dripping, down your thighs and below you. Further darkening the sheets. After you manage to blink through the blurry tears you can see it on his face too. Beautiful mouth shiny from where it was just buried between your legs. As you take notice of it you see the corners of his lips edging up slightly.

"Am I going too easy on you? You seem distracted." Wicked fingers start moving once again. A slow, teasing pace. Softly caressing your sensitive walls and reminding you of your current predicament. You can't hold back a breathless whimper which he rewards with a soft kiss to your knee.

"I could stab you right now." Your voice is barely there but he hears you. Like he always does. He notices everything you do. He can also identify the truth behind the statement to his wicked amusement.

"We can't have that." You feel your arms being pulled up until they're resting up above your head. It takes you longer than it should to recognize the familiar feeling of his shadows over your skin. "If you stab me then you really won't get to cum" A plea escapes your mouth instinctively. Your body so attuned to his every whim. "And you were just telling me how much you want to"

"Please! I'll do anything, Azriel" He lets out a chuckle and speeds up a little. Not enough to get you closer to the edge, only teasing you more. Your temper flares. The shadows holding your arms hostage tighten ever so softly. A warning. They're on your side, they want you to cum too. Or perhaps they're as cruel as their master and just want to watch you suffer for longer. But the message is clear. You need to play into his game.

"I know, princess." He leans down and leaves a kiss over between your breasts. Nuzzles his nose lovingly over your skin before catching your gaze once again. "You're always so good for me." His eyes rake over your exposed body. Making a show of how much he enjoys the sight before him. You can't help but curl your toes at the hunger in his gaze. "That's why I know you'll wait like I told you to. Only want you to cum on my cock tonight, you know that."

You let out yet another moan of his name and try to move your hips against his finger. He lets you indulge yourself for a couple strokes. Lets you let your guard down only to order his shadows to restrain your movements even more. Your moans pick up in volume and become ever more whiny.

"If you want me to cum on your cock then why not let me have it?" Ending the sweet request with a soft wiggle of your hips, as restricted as his grip on you allows. His endless patience is wearing thin. Your pleas are not as pointless as they may seem. The soft spot he has for you is his only weakness after all. You try to keep your face neutral at the realization. Things would only get worse if he found out you're plotting against him. "Then we can both feel good. I want you to cum too."

"Alright" Your heart soars, breath almost stalling at the agreement. You didn't think it would be so easy. Scarred fingers abandon your abused hole in favor of getting rid of his leathers. He only pulls them low enough for his erection to slap against his stomach. He strokes it once, twice without taking his eyes off your dripping pussy. Your mouth almost waters at the sight.

His eyes lock back into your own and he lets out a growl at what he sees. Unfiltered and completely primal want. He guides himself to your core but he wouldn't be the wicked spymaster of the night court if he didn't tease you just a bit more. He circles the leaking tip of his cock over your clit and slaps it twice before finally pressing it where you need him most.

"Is this what you want?" You barely have any time to feel the triumph in finally getting what you wanted, in the breathlessness present in his voice, before he starts pushing inside you. Your orgasm catches you unprepared as it wrecks through your body. Mouth open in a silent cry of his name. Eyes rolling back and mind shattering. You don't know how long it lasts or when it even started. The world pauses as you feel unimaginable pleasure. Your blood sings his name as if every nerve ending was exposed to him, controlled by him.

When your mind starts fighting through the haze you realize your hands are gripping onto him. Fingers curled around his dark hair and nails sinking into his shoulders. He must have called his shadows back in the middle of your mind numbing orgasm. You open your eyes to see him watching your face with a somewhat smug and content expression.

"How'd that feel?" You can only let out a moan and close your eyes again. Reveling in the pleasure. Letting the answer flood him through the bond. You can't help but smile at the growl he lets out and stuttering of his hips at the onslaught of pleasure. Let him feel at least a fraction of what he just put you through. This satisfaction is short lived as you realize his pace keeps going steady. He has no intentions of stopping anytime soon. The realization must be clear on your face because you can see the smirk on his face even before you open your eyes.

"You were begging for me to let you cum for so long" He punctuates every word with a precise, deep thrust of his hips. "It would be cruel of me to only let you do it once, right?" You start to say his name, going back to pleading already but he shuts you up with a kiss and a particularly deep thrust. "None of that. Let me take care of you."

[oddinary4bts]

November Sun | jjk

☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.

☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)

☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst

☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well

☆word count: 3.7k

☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.

☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3

☆☆☆☆☆

                The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.

Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.

It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?

Jungkook thinks it is.

He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?

Jungkook doesn’t want to know.

Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.

Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.

Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.

He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.

He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.

You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.

Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?

*****

                “I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”

Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”

He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.

“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”

“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.

“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”

Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.

“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”

You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.

For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.

“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”

“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”

“I know, Jungkook. I know.”

He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.

So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.

“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”

You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”

He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”

An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.

“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.

“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”

He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.

“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”

You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”

“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”

“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.

“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”

*****

                The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.

Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.

Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.

But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.

He did find you again, only you never knew.

*****

                Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.

He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.

The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.

He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.

His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.

He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.

He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.

He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.

He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.

And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.

You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.

The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.

The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.

Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.

Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.

He would have rather not known the name.

Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.

Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.

*****

                When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.

He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.

He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.

And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?

Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?

It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.

Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.

If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.

You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.

He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.

He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.

Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.

And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.

All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.

Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.

At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.

It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.

He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.

He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.

That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.

The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.

Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.

Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.

“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.

Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.

Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.

“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”

The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.

“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.

What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?

“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.

He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.

“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”

“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”

Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.

Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.

“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”

“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.

He doesn’t think it’s himself.

“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.

“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.

Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.

“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.

Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”

Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.

“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”

Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.

He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.

Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.

And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.

☆☆☆☆☆

I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[sleeplesssmoll]

Reverse1999 Analysis: A deeper dive into Vertin and Sonetto's dynamic.

I was under the assumption the time Vertin gave Sonetto the frog and the Break-away events were relatively close but I was mistaken. Take a look at these avatars. Sorry about the image quality:

This is Vertin and Sonetto in the hallway during the frog event.

This is them during the Parade Ceremony:

These two rarely interacted but are keenly aware of each other's presence for better or worse. Even when Sonetto's confronting her years after the frog event, Vertin is very soft/quiet in those interactions. The usual sass and dry humor we've seen in her is suddenly gone. Also, this is Vertin we're talking about. She's the rulebreaker. She doesn't care about the handbook or the bullies who pick on her. She steps out of line. She asks the questions no one wants to answer. She's used to being berated by teachers but still carries on catching frogs, even if it means getting hurt by the electric fence.

Years must have passed after Vertin had her feelings hurt. Look how fluffy Sonetto became and Vertin started putting her hair up. Idk why I didn't notice this right away but the two had more tension between them than I originally thought. Kids feel things very deeply. Even if you're an adult and your memory is foggy, it's easier to recall the way you felt in those moments than the events themselves. This changes some of the context I see things.

Yet, Sonetto's rejection cut her deeply.

Vertin values Sonetto's opinion above most people's in during their childhood.

On one hand you could say it's because of a crush but on the other hand, maybe she's still hurt from that day in the hallway. Maybe she doesn't know how to handle Sonetto, especially since the top student tends to avoid her unless necessary. Vertin mentions this when Sonetto lends her notes after the tear gas incident. Not to mention her confusion when Sonetto shows up to help her fight Lilya. There's so many things she wants to ask, yet there is not enough time. The two say their goodbyes. Sonetto wants to make sure Vertin won't regret her decision. By leaving, Vertin will be throwing away everything the Foundation gave her. It's symbolic of Vertin the rebel leaving the Foundation's top dog behind.

But the scene invokes sadness rather than triumph. Sonetto was never her enemy. Vertin overcame every moment of hesitation until this point. When the door slowly lowers between them, they watch as it closes. Vertin only leaves once its completely shut.

Despite all this, Vertin never truly left Sonetto behind. Present Vertin remembers Sonetto's quirks and habits from back when they were children (we can see this in the prologue). In Vertin's dreams we see her still wishing to show Sonetto the world. She's living rent free in the Timekeeper's head.

As for Sonetto, I don't think she ever hated Vertin but she was frustrated by her rule breaking. Vertin's already a troublesome student because of her weak arcanum but she exacerbates it by being rebellious. Sonetto won't bite the hand that feeds her. She is grateful for the Foundation's "care".

However, She'll reluctantly come over if Vertin calls, even if she knows Vertin is being a rascal again. She warns Vertin constantly about behaving but we've never seen her snitch. Perhaps she knows what will happen if she does. Vertin will get hurt. She tries to stop her herself because the instructors have no patience for Vertin. She threatens to tell on Vertin before the Parade when she realizes Vertin is up to something. She could have easily reported Vertin before the Parade, but she doesn't. First time seeing this I read it "I've got my eye on you." The second time, I read it as "I don't want you to get hurt." She's trying to deter Vertin from acting out because the Parade Ceremony is huge and Vertin's already spent time in the guardhouse. The instructors are pulling out all stops.

When Sonetto was ordered to fight her friends she was confused and froze up. When the kids were locked in the guardhouse, she tried to bring them food but was turned away. She tries to show kindness while working within the Foundation's parameters but doesn't understand that won't be enough. There is a very loving person and curious person underneath the Foundation's indoctrination. I think Vertin saw glimpses of that in Sonetto but didn't understand why Sonetto couldn't act on them like she did.

Here we have two people who care about each other but can't overcome the differences between each other to make it work.

Although, it makes you wonder, why Sonetto? It could have been any other student with a sense of curiosity.

But its always Sonetto.

And what the hell happened between in the time Vertin became the Timekeeper to make Sonetto's attitude do a 180? Is it because she had more freedom to be herself after becoming an investigator? Did she try to get closer to Vertin after the break away event because she was worried about her? How much contact did she have with Vertin after this because Vertin is treated differently after becoming the Timekeeper.

Update:

A Daily Log in snippet revealed Sonetto used to tutor Vertin often because she was concerned about her bad grades. Vertin still has the orginal notebook Sonetto gave her (Green Lake). It doesn't say exactly when this happened, but I think it's safe to assume it's after the Break-Away event since Sonetto didn't approach Vertin before the days she gave her the notebook. She became closer to Vertin after the break away event. If you look back at the prologue, she slips up and calls the Timekeeper "Vertin" when she's flustered and asking for help (dealing with Regulus) instead of her title. There's an air of familiarity between them if you read between the lines. Vertin is admittedly a bit cold toward her in the opening (tbf she had a secret mission to talk to Regulus that Sonetto totally botched), but we see her open up more as the story goes on (teasing Sonetto in the forest, placing a lot of faith in her, sacrificing herself despite Sonetto being stronger, giving causal compliments, etc.)

[alevens]

Luffy falls first, maybe a little after what happened at the Baratie, he falls during the quiet moments, when Sanji talks about his favorite recipes with extreme detail, when he gives him seconds and thirds when he thinks he isn't looking, Luffy falls when Sanji doesn't pretend to be annoyed at him when he latches onto his back while he works, he falls during the big, important moments too, when he's fighting, when there's blood running down his face, when he kicks someone for speaking ill of a lady, Luffy falls and it's easy and quick, he falls with every bite of food and kick sent his way.

Sanji falls second, he falls after spending two years without his captain and his crew, he falls when he realizes just how much he misses them, how the island where he is feels empty without laughter and shouts and a certain rubber boy, he falls when he comes back to Sabaody and he sees the not-so-much of a boy again, he falls during every single moment they get to spend together, he falls when he reminiscences about the past, he falls when he realizes just how bright their present is, and they both fall harder the moment they hold hands for the first time, when they get to tell each other all that's been pent up on both of their hearts, when they kiss and two years feel like nothing when they both now know this strong feeling will be forever everlasting

(they fall harder, too, during the difficult moments. when Luffy has trouble breathing because his chest feels like it's on fire and Sanji is there to ground him, to guide him so he doesn't suffocate, to hold him when he's calmed down and his mind is still too loud for his liking. they fall harder, when Sanji's past comes back to haunt him, when Luffy tells him he's not leaving, that Sanji's his, and that without him, his dream won't come true, they fall harder when Sanji fights alongside his captain to escape, so they can go back to Sunny, to home, they fall harder, they remind themselves they believe in each other, until the very end.)

[loveandleases]

How would the ROs react (deep into the relationship stage after the Chris drama is well and truly behind them) if they accidentally ended up stumbling upon a poorly hidden engagement ring in MC's stuff?

Cuuuuute. Such a cute ask. Below the cut anon. 💍

❤️ Cam - He picks up the ring, turning it around between his fingers. It takes him a bit before he realizes exactly what he's looking at. When the realization dawns on him he drops it. "Shit! Shit..fuck...where'd you go you bastard."

Once he finds it, while he's elbow-deep in the drawers, he chuckles to himself. Instead of putting it back where it was, he puts it in the drawer of his bedside table. Instead replacing it with the ring he got you.

He won't say anything, yet..okay maybe it will slip later tonight.

💙 G - Should they put it back? You had it hidden for a reason right? They don't want you to think they were snooping. Something in their gut tells them this is a good thing...finally a good thing. You two are moved on from the past. So surely this is a good thing.

G will place it back, and be somewhat quiet the rest of the day. Stuck in their head as they tend to be. It might seem as if they're even giving you the cold shoulder. When in reality they wonder if they should see what kind of ring you like...maybe the one they wanted to give you before.

💚 Kara - She is giddy, as in she won't even pretend she didn't see it. She will run to mc holding it like it's some ancient relic with a large price tag. "It's for me, right? Yes, say it. I mean it's my size..." She squeals, placing the ring on her finger.

If MC wanted it to be a special moment, sorry. Because Kara will not take it off, it's her new favorite accessory. Don't worry she will give you a new one later tonight.

💛 M - They actually like wearing rings, something to fidget with when they're nervous. Is that what it's for? They'll test it out, slide it on and then off, as if they're going to develop some kind of super power.

They hide it away, willing themselves to not write about this, not when they allow you to look at their notes now. M will be so pensive until you pop the question, and when you do mentally they will compare it to every engagement in media...then realize this is far better. Sorry for the tears, it's happy tears.

💜 Isaac- They expected this, they did. It was going to come eventually. Yet they are still shaken. Not because they don't want this, but because they do and that might frighten them even more than actually getting engaged/married. Isaac had never gotten this far, never healed this much.

They won't be prepared for when it happens, floundering their acceptance of your proposal. Give them a bit, because when you do Isaac will accept, as wholeheartedly as possible. "Thanks for being patient."

🖤 Ardent - "Kitten!?" he slams the drawer closed, gripping the ring.

When you come into the room he shoves it towards you, he's really going to develop a wrinkle between his brows squinting like that.

"Here I thought the only ring you'd ever give me was for my dick." He cracks a smile, tossing the ring up and catching it again.

"What were you doing in my drawer?" You reach for the ring but he holds it higher up. Yeah, no chance you're getting it back.

"Now, now. Be nice and beg for it." he dangles it in front of your face, before tapping your nose with it.

"Ardent, give it. It's not for you." even you weren't convinced by that lie.

When he hears that, he moves to block you in. The dresser is now at your back, and Ardent is very much pressed against your chest. "It damn well better be. This better not be anyone else's. " he moves to tilt your chin up, ghosting his lips against yours. "Be good, and I'll give yours tonight."

[nar-nia]

6 p.m.

word count: 885

warnings: none

Heeseung already waited at the door when you arrived back at your shared apartment, figure slumped with exhaustion. You didn't need to say anything, his arms immediately wrapped around you as you let the bag fall to the floor. Heeseung felt you almost melting against him, his hand drawing soothing circles on your back. It took a while until you finally returned the hug, your arms wrapping around his form to press him closer.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," you mumbled. Even your voice sounded tired.

"Did you have a nice weekend?"

"I guess," you nodded. "It was okay."

Heeseung chuckled. He gripped your shoulders, his eyes scanning you before he pressed a small kiss onto your temple. "I think we should get you to bed."

"I'm sorry." You gave him a small pout. "I just feel so exhausted."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, love. We'll see each other again tomorrow morning."

"I know." Your pout only grew bigger when Heeseung pressed another kiss onto your temple, slowly leading you towards your bedroom. He sat you down on the bed, this time kissing you on the lips before he knelt down in front of you.

"Do you want to get changed by yourself or should I do that? Or do you want to sleep like this?"

"You," you just mumbled, eyes already on their way to closing themselves. "Please."

"Cute," Heeseung mumbled. He had to halt for a second, take you in. It was small moments like this that made him realize how much he was actually in love with you. Moments when you already knew each other so well that words weren't really needed, when the trust between you two became evident. He couldn't resist pressing another kiss on your cheek, one you only recognized with a quiet hum, before he carefully began undressing you. His eyes were focused on the movement on his hands, fingertips softly caressing your skin in an effort not to disturb the peace.

"I love you." Your words were slurred by now, Heeseung could see how much you were fighting to look at him right now. He couldn't help but find it adorable, how stubborn you were just to spend a few more minutes with him instead of finally giving in to sleep.

"I love you too."

"I don't want to sleep. Let's talk."

Heeseung chuckled as he pulled the rest of your shirt down. "You can barely think, love. We have more than enough time to talk tomorrow."

He gave you another kiss at your temple. "You're all dressed. Let's sleep please."

"But I missed you," you whined. "I haven't seen you the whole weekend."

"I know," Heeseung sighed. "But isn't it better to just catch up tomorrow? When we're both awake?"

"No."

"Okay. Give me a minute."

You nodded, eyes still fighting hard to stay open as you watched Heeseung change into his own pyjamas. "You can take longer, I am awake."

"Sure you are." Heeseung lied down next to you with a smile, pulling you closer towards him as his lips were once again connected to your temple.

"You do that a lot today," you muttered. "It's really sweet."

"Do I? Maybe because you're really sweet today."

You awed, snuggling closer towards him. Heeseung could have sworn your heart was bursting, his hand wandering into your hair to run his fingers through it.

"What do you want to talk about?" he whispered, his smile growing wider when he noticed how much harder it was for you to stay awake now after his small action.

"Just tell me something please. I missed your voice."

Heeseung hummed, his fingers continuing their soft movements in your hair. "We did some preparations for our new album. Learned some new dance steps."

"Oh?" You turned around, one arm lazily wrapped around Heeseungs waist now while your head was buried in his neck. "Please tell me you won't be thrusting on stage again."

Heeseungs laugh shook your body a bit, your arm tightening around him. "Don't laugh!"

"Sorry," he chuckled, leaning towards you as he kissed the top of your head. "I won't be thrusting. But there will be some hip shaking."

"Hmm." You went silent, and it kept dragging on until Heeseung thought you had already fallen asleep. Not that he would be surprised.

"You're too sexy. I need to gatekeep you more."

Heeseung suppressed another laugh when you spoke up after a while, instead covering you in more kisses. "I only care about being sexy for you anyway."

"Sexy? Sexhee." Now it was you who broke into a laugh, satisfied with your own joke.

"Only for you," Heeseung grinned. "But don't let my fans know."

"I will tell them all. They need to know you're mine."

Heeseungs heart was once again filled with fondness, his feeling threatening to overflow. There was nothing he wanted more than to scream out his love for you, and he almost did it - until he noticed how your breath had gotten slower, your whole posture now relaxed against his side. He couldn't resist kissing you again, now closing his eyes too when you didn't react anymore.

"I'm yours." His whisper disappeared in the dark room as you both fell into a deep slumber, holding each other close until the next morning.

~~~

permanent taglist: @maeum-your @sunoona @hoonsmarsbar @soobin-chois @sjyuniverse @taekbokki

[seth-burroughs]

Anyway... headcanon post: Yomi is cognitively impaired. Sources? the depths of my twisted mind ;3

Sometimes has quote unquote good days where his symptoms don't get as severe (or he/others don't think they do), sometimes he gets worse, it varies on the phase on the moon, the earth's axis and the horoscope. (according to Guillaume, it's all because he's a libra) (he attempts to squash her like a bug every time but she's just too fast man.....)

Slow reaction times (although it gets weird sometimes). Sometimes it's delayed by just a second or a few, sometimes for way more which causes problems ranging from mild annoyance to literally almost dying via honda tire. An example of this is when he might walk to a crosswalk, forgets that he actually needs to check if any cars are coming, walks onto traffic, oh look a car. He notices a car car coming, stops, knows he should move out of the way in that scenario, but it just doesn't occur to him to do that, and he just stands there staring almost completely frozen, deer-style, until finally either, A.) he realizes "oh shit I'm about to get ran over so that's what's happening maybe" and fucking bolts to the side at literal last minute, or B.) the driver stops for him and is about to leave the car and scream at him about it, before noticing that's the director and almost shitting themselves from raw fear then profusely apologizing. You know those crosswalks at Kanai Ward, that detect pedestrians and stop oncoming traffic for them? While they were mostly created for the citizens, an also big reason why they were able to exist is because the Yomi Squad funded it so well in order to stop him from killing himself one day. The bicycle paths are still a problem though and have claimed many of his bones to this day

Knows the city pretty well (allegedly), and is able to get around via yomi autopilot. He just walks with zero (or extremely irrelevant) thoughts in his head, not paying attention to almost anything, just getting guided by habit/reflex/walking on the same path so often he just memorizes when to turn or enter while not even having to look where he's going, you get me right? He'll probably be fine. As long as he doesn't snap out of it and regain consciousness. In that case he's reminded he exists, looks around, thinks "where the fuck am I", remembers what he's supposed to do after a moment, but then forgets how he even gets there in the first place and is effectively lost. So what he does is to recount every single detail, instruction and direction in which path he usually takes to get him to a point where he is currently (which might. take a While), and then he finally remembers where he is and can carry on as usual. Do NOT disturb him in this state or he will completely lose his train of thought and get incredibly pissed he has to do it all over and violently take it out on you or perhaps even everyone around too.

^How he deals with the above things is that he simply very, very rarely travels without somebody else, which either Martina or F-Zilch (not counting occassional Cop Entourage as that's a bit different). If they aren't available, he either picks some other (preferably quiet, the chatty types are always the most insufferable) employee of his, or just goes alone or refuses to leave his house at all that day.

Sometimes when someone is speaking to him he can feel that he's not gonna register any word of what they're gonna say and just loses focus. No, he won't ask them to repeat themselves, that's for pussies like Seth, if he didn't hear whatever it is they wanted to tell him then maybe it just isn't that important. Maybe.

Takes an awful long time to shower, as soon as his skin makes contact with water he ceases awareness of existing and he has to wait until he remembers he's alive until he keeps going. (though that isn't the sole reason as to why he cannot do it faster. but it's a part in it)

Tries to make an effort to keep track of important events via lists, reminder notes and planners, or frequently ends up asking his vice director Martina about certain things that happened beforehand (if they did at all) or are about to happen, since he's for sure not gonna remember that himself. Usually, at least. Sometimes he does have his memory down to every detail but only concerning certain things his shit brain cares about more, such as "during that exact time that evening Seth blinked at you rather disrespectfully" or "here's that masked freak's speech to you that morning, perfectly recalled, down to the last detail, for you to dissect and get mad about for the remainder of the week"

All of these annoy, stress out and infuriate him greatly

[mercurytrinemoon]

I guess this is a 2023 astrology overview or something

As we're approaching the new year, I've been thinking a lot not about the passing one, but about the next one... If you could somehow be nostalgic about the future, that would be the feeling I'm getting about 2023. It's some sort of longing mixed with curiosity and something that seems unattainable. But that's exactly what makes my brain go weird... because it is attainable... There ARE new cycles starting next year even if it's hard to wrap my head around it (just think about Pluto being in Aquarius for 20 years. I know. Hard to comprehend).

And as much as I'm sure at some point sooner or later, I'm going to regret my next words, I cannot wait what 2023 has in store.

There's a lot of changes ahead of us, and those changes will be BIG. Starting from Saturn departing from Aquarius after 3 years. And these were a very long 3 years (not just saying that because it was my 1st house transit and that made it feel extra long) but I feel like they were busy and thought-provoking years. Lots of changes in communication (for obvious reasons), the internet, technology and social matters. The collective approach to all these topics changed drastically. And some of which was forced on us. Few months into the pandemic, after seeing the pattern, I said it won't be fully over until Saturn leaves Aquarius. I said that with a big disappointment but somehow we're almost at the end of the transit and the topic is currently mostly not a thing anymore. Like, can we actually take a moment and appreciate that?

I think the keyword for this Saturn in Aquarius transit was: innovation inspired by limitations.

Sure Pluto is going to take over the sign but it's much much slower in its movement, it's not a harsh reality-check in the style of Saturn, it's sneaky and quiet. Aside from the darker qualities it has (and similarly to Saturn it can cause fear), Pluto can be alluring in its power - it's like a Midas touch if it's on your side. But it will bring changes and those changes might be thrilling yet terrifying. Be careful what you wish for because with the new Pluto cycle, if it's affecting your chart, you just might get it. And these are the words I keep hearing when I'm looking at my own chart so I guess that is some sort of an omen for me.

Obviously these are collective energies but with the nodes shifting signs in the middle of the year, and the north node heading into Aries, there will be an emphasis on the individual. It's about taking back your own power and freedom and reevaluating what each of us want from our lives, I'm sure a lot of people will stop and ask themselves, who am I? And if the thing I'm doing truly makes me fullfilled? There might be changes in leaderships as well. People may become more selfish but sometimes selfishness is required if you want to live a happy drama-free life. With the south node in Libra, people may realize it's actually a relationship with a certain person that is blocking them from happiness, so there might be a lot of goodbyes next year... goodbyes that leave space for new connections - and if you're into the idea of south node symbolising past lives - maybe even a beneficial past live connection? (Maybe that's why I said I'm feeling the sense of nostalgia from 2023?)

(PSA: beware of the nasty people from the past from this lifetime during Venus retrograde tho)

And as the north node departs from Taurus and leaves the mess that it made along with Uranus (that will no longer square Saturn), let's hope Jupiter ingressing into the sign will smooth things out a bit. Now Uranus is still there so that won't fix all the issues but I'm hoping there's going to be less of a "shortage of this and that and the crops are dying cause there's war and the gas is too expensive and oh, let's scare people there's going to be shortages of power during the winter and btw we're gonna make your electricity bills super high so there's that" bullshit and more of a "let's just chill and have some amazing food and maybe lay naked in bed cause we have everything we want" type of Jupiter party. That'd be nice. But first Jupiter is going to speed through Aries and give us all the awesome and exciting energy we all need to get us back on our feet.

And back to Saturn, Pisces folks, buckle up cause that can be like a bucket of cold water for you. Not the type of a swim you like but on the bright side, this can potentially bring a bit of a structure into the sloppy and disorganized side of you (yes I just called you sloppy, soz), it can also bring your abstract ideas into a tangible thing. Just don't loose your jupiterian hope and enthusiasm in all of this even if Saturn will try to break your fragile little heart. And we all shouldn't, as Pisces' jupiterian cousin (that is, Sagittarius) I want to remind everyone that there is a way to keep your rose-colored glasses and still have ideas that are grounded in reality, the key is to wisely assess your situation and work on whatever you have in mind and want to achieve. Use the Saturn energy. Also use all the jupiterian things if you want - being aware of astrology or divination is an advantage after all and having Saturn in Pisces can help give us clearer and more black and white answers when using these methods.

And on that (hopefully) uplifting note, happy 2023.

[gemini-sensei]

Shy Eli x Chubby!Alexopoulos!Reader

(unedited)(fem!reader)

She hears a gentle knock on her bedroom door and she knows what it means. She gets up to get it and greets Eli with a smile. She can see he's blushing, even in the dark of night, even though they've done this before. Ushering him in, she can't help noticing how he tries to pull his tee shirt down to hide his erection. She says nothing of it and closes the door.

She slips her panties off, then climbs onto the bed, lays down on her side, and pretends she doesn't hear him undress himself. Their movements, though shy, are practiced and known. He gets behind her and cuddles up to her, hiding his face against her back. His hands pull up her night dress, bunching it around her hips as she lifts her leg. He slips his hard cock between her thighs and she can already feel a little bit of pre cum leaking from his tip. She gathers some spit into her hand and reaches down, spreading it over his shaft before closing her legs around d him. He whines in her ear and she bites back a smile.

Slowly, he starts fucking her perfect, thick thighs. His cock drags along her folds, getting her wet as he steadily works up to a slightly faster pace. They have to be quiet, inconspicuous, secretive, for if her brother found out, he'd surely freak out on them. So he groans and whines into the fabric of her night dress, moving a hand around her body to grope her fat tit and feel it spill between his fingers. He gently rolls her hardening nipple between his fingers and she sighs softly, carefully moving her hips to drag her exposed pussy lips along his cock. It feels so good, but they keep their little noises to themselves, simply in bliss.

But then the angle shifts and the head of his cock pushes into her. She gasps and they both stop everything, taking a moment to realize what's happened. It's all new. They've never gone this far before. It's only ever been little handjobs and thigh fucking. He'd come on her thighs or in her hand, then rub her clit until she came too.

"What-what do you want me to-to do?" he asks her softly.

She reaches behind her and curls her fingers in his hair. Looking over her shoulder, but it's too dark to see, she whispers, "Keep going, please."

He nods against her shoulder and starts pushing in slowly. Inch by inch, he takes it slow, and she lifts her legs to give him the space to do so. He holds it for her so she won't tire of it, already moaning and whining so pretty because of him. He's stretching her out, reaching depths they'd never know. When his hips meet her ass, her hand is tightly holding his hair. She's whimpering, her hips wiggling as he allows her time to adjust. He buries his face in her neck and peppers shy, sweet kisses along her skin to soothe her.

After some time, she pressed her ass into him and he takes that as the sign to move. He slowly pulls out, only half way, before pushing back in. Her tight, velvet walls wrap around him like heaven. She encases him beautifully and he groans against her soft skin low and heavy, whispering her name hotly. It's better than he ever imagined it might be, attributing most of that to her and how she makes everything that much better.

They aren't together, not officially. Secretly, maybe. They kiss sometimes, their hugs last a little longer than they should. Sometimes she shyly sucks a hickey onto his shoulder. His nightly visits to her room go un-discussed. Their eyes will meet across a room and his heart will flutter. She's so enchanting to him, as she's always been, but she's never truly been his. It wasn't allowed, they couldn't be together.

It was a dumb little rule made up by her brother that neither of them clearly followed. Whatever force was between them pulling them together was too strong, it knew nothing of the set rules between the best friends, one stating that they couldn't date each other's siblings, which was quite unfair in retrospect because Eli is an only child.

His other hand holds her belly, feeling it lightly jiggle with each of his thrusts. He continues to plant small kisses along her neck, murmuring her name as they experience something new with each other. He listens to her sighs of pleasure, the sweetness she gives out as the rest of thebroom is filled with the gently phap phap phap of his hips meeting her ass and the squelching of her pussy. He watches her barely restricted tits bounce, mesmerized by them and how pretty they look. He imagines for a moment taking one into his mouth and sucking on her nipple, something he's too shy to ask about.

"Oh Eli..." she moans, throwing her head back against his shoulder. Her mouth hangs open as she calls out his name rather soft. Her nails lightly scratch his scalp, holding him close in any way she can. "Feels so good..."

The praise makes his chest swell up, his heart skip a beat. He blushes harder than he already is. "R-really?"

He can't believe it, his head is spinning. Then she nods surely and tells him again.

"It feels so good, so so good," she mumbles softly.

His hips snap forward and she lets out a shrill cry. He's hit that spongy spot inside her than makes her toes curl. As her walls clench around him, she begs softly, "right there! Right there, please, again! Again!"

So he tries and hits it again, making it his target. With each new thrust, he makes her cry out so softly, a little loud but hopefully not too loud. She praises him, telling him how good it feels, begging him not to stop. All while the hot coil wraps up tighter and harder until she comes undone in his arms. Her legs shake, her pussy gushes hot fluid. He even feels her belly tighten as her velvet, heavenly walls bare down on him and suck him in. She writhes against his clothed, lithe chest.

He's not far to follow.

He presses into her as far as he can, his hips dipping into the fat of her ass as his hands tighten around her thigh and belly. His balls draw up as his cock throbs, releasing hot spurts of cum into her depths. Her walls are milking him as he fills her, something that maybe should have been discussed beforehand, but it was too late now. It's like that for a couple of minutes as he whines in her ear, overwhelmed by the feeling coming in raw pussy for the first time.

Everything comes to a stop soon thereafter and he gently lowers her leg. He holds her hip as he pulls his flaccid cock from her stuffed full cunt, rolling onto his back as he pants heavily. The air in the room is musky and hot, unhelpful to him as he needs to catch his breath and recover from what just happened.

She's no help either, as she turns over to face him. He looks at her and she kisses his scar - her favorite thing to do. Then she gives him a series of short kisses to his lips, before pressing a longer one against his lips. It's sweet and simple, her hand gently caressing his cheek, her fingers ghosting over his skin. He reaches up to her and does the same, cradling her face gently.

She giggles when she pulls away, smiling at him in the hot night darkness. They can only make out the lines of each other's faces, hands shyly tracing them. They hold each other knowing he has to leave soon, before the sun rises and he's caught in her bedroom when he should never be there in the first place. She doesn't want him to go, but knows it's best.

But for the time that they have left to spend together tonight, they bask in it. They cuddle up and kiss each other, both still so shy, one a little less shy than the other. They say nothing, for there was nothing more that needed to be said in that moment.

[dick-meister]

"..." Well, Sue knew it was gonna be a mess up here just based on the noise alone, but she didn't realize how much. Glass & wood everywhere, vaguely resembling that items that used to be in the near area &...

Adam.

The devil herself is rather quiet, taking in... everything... including the state of the man who normally puffs his chest up so much he takes up a whole room, before choosing to do anything else. Her choice makes her black hair spring to life, gold dust appearing along the raven locks, giving it the image of the cosmos itself. And that starry mane carefully encases around them both, creating a spherical space of darkness in this heavenly realm.

Somewhere that others outside of it won't see. Temporary as it is, it's a place to hide for the moment. To be your ugliest self & no one will have to see. A place to cry & feel no shame.

"... Adam..." And Sue? She only sits down beside him. Leaving him completely alone felt wrong. After all, someone like Adam wouldn't get this ugly, unless something was eating at him so hungrily.

Adam could hear someone coming in, yet he didn’t move. After all that anger, all that pent up rage and frustration… exhaustion would quickly follow in its wake. There he was, a pile of gold feathers on the ground as his wings covered him.

Footsteps grew closer, the sound of… Something could be heard and still, he didn’t move nor care. If this was an assassin then it’d be a godsend. There was nothing quite like the loneliness of heartbreak and loss. No matter how much time passed, that would always stick with him like a scar on his heart and tonight, he didn’t want to deal with it anymore, he didn’t want to deal with himself…

Adam couldn’t have guessed who had perched themselves at his side, even when her voice made itself known to him but uttering just his name. If only his heart could fall further, but he was too far gone. His eyes stared straight, uncaring, unmotivated to move. Only imagining what kind of face she may have seeing an Angel this broken. A smirk? A dominating smile? Would she take advantage of him? Try to whisk away his soul? Maybe that would be better, anything would be better than feeling such despair.

If only the tormentors of Hell itself could feel the pain he was in, it would certainly put them out of a job. Adam had lived so long and lost so much and worse yet? He couldn’t talk to anyone about it with anyone, no one could get it…

There was some time that passed until dull hued eyes worked up the courage to finally tare themselves away from the walls of swirling black around them and looked at Sue. He expected her to be in high spirits, being a Devil, a princess of Hell. This anguish should have fed her for years to come, right? Then why… Did she look so concerned…?

A slow blink, his features falling, silent tears running down his cheeks and his body moved without thought, without control and soon enough, his head rested on her lap. Silent. Hurt. His eyes shut hard and those pathetic whimpering sounds left his lips once again as wings flattened against his back and forbidden words left his lips in Enochian.

“Ť̶̡̢̢̞̦̙̱̘͙̹̯̤̯̬̩̣͕̺͓̼̣̹̝̈́͜ͅả̸̢͎̭͙̌̂̈́̂̎͘͝k̵̖͎̘͙͎͍͎̃͜ȇ̷̛̠͖͌͗̂͆͌̔̄̃̂̌̓̈́͘ ̴̛͇͛͆͊́͒͊̀̄́̿̂̕͝m̶̡̡̼̳̬̰͓͉͙̯̠̼̮͕̻͕̓̏̃͂̾̈́͐̑̎́̿̿̀́̚̕͜͝͝ͅỳ̵̛͕̬̤̩̂͗͂̏͝ ̴̻̱͍͈̟̫̥̰͚̥͙̤̣̠̤̬͇͈͌̿̓͋͜͝s̵̡̢͎͇̞̬̘̻̲̝̯̰̮̭̪̠̮̱͓̖̎́̄̔̎̑͛͒̀́̆̉̔̅̋̏̀͑̓̚͝͠ͅͅo̶̢̧̼̯̘̪̟͓͕̦̟͇̬̖̭̠͋͊͒͗̕͠ư̸̛͍̌̈̄̈́̈̈̊̈́̆̾͐͝l̴̦̩̠̱͇͎͉̣͎͇̣̪̺̲̖̳̹̘̺̆̏͗́͆͋̋̓̃̀͛͆̏̌͜͝ͅ”

[jihyocentric]

I saw someone mention najeongmo the other day, can you write something for them?

Gp!jeongmo with leashes as they try to get each other by frotting as mommy nayeon watches them pathetically squirm around edging each other but bratty Jeongyeon gets annoyed so Nayeon punishes her by taking momo and rides her while jeong watches them, not even allowed to touch herself. Nayeon decides to put jeong in a compromising position by having momo fuck her next and having them ruin her orgasm and overstimulate her until she begs for mercy

nayeon looks at them, hopes one of them would break soon and crosses her legs, nails tapping at the arm of the chair.

she could've sworn momo would be the one to go over her order and either come or try something else to get nayeon's attention, but she wasn't surprised to see that jeongyeon was getting a little too excited, moving her hips with purpose, rubbing her shaft against momo's fast and hard, unlike what nayeon told them to.

it was adorable, truly. nayeon almost cooed, nearly teased jeongyeon for being so desperate, but she knew that any sounds she made would stop jeongyeon from giving her a reason to punish her. so nayeon kept silent, eyes staring at them lustfully, her core pulsing at the sight in front of her.

in no time, as predictable as ever, jeongyeon comes. she doesn't ask, ignores nayeon's statement from earlier, when the older woman instructed them to edge themselves and not come, and spills all over momo's stomach. the streaks fall thick and hot against momo's skin and the feeling almost makes momo follow her.

it takes jeongyeon a minute to realize what she'd done. she looks at nayeon, who seems to think about her next move, and gulps, leaving momo's lap instantly.

"d-didn't mean to..." jeongyeon tries to find an excuse, nayeon listens, even looks at jeongyeon as if she asked her to proceed. but jeongyeon freezes, unable to come up with a valid reason.

"i thought you had learned to be patient after last time," nayeon gets up, ridding herself of her clothes, thinking about the last time she had to give jeongyeon a lesson. it was good for her, but for jeongyeon not so much. "guess i was wrong."

the moment nayeon takes place on momo's lap, momo wants to thank jeongyeon for misbehaving, because the feeling of nayeon sinking down on her was too good. she groans, head falling back, surrounded by the familiar tightness, wet and warm for her.

"mommy!" jeongyeon complains. she knew she had messed up, but momo didn't deserve that either.

"quiet." nayeon shoots her a firm look, hands finding support on momo's chest. "if don't make a sound maybe i'll take it easy on you when i'm done with momo."

jeongyeon bites back a snort but complies. she gets hard again at the sight of momo holding nayeon's hips as nayeon took her cock, almost too big to fit, making jeongyeon sigh, wishing it was her in momo's place.

"m-mommy," momo whines out at a clench of nayeon's warmth around her, stammering as she tries to make the proper use of words. "c-can i come?"

for a moment nayeon doesn't give her an answer, making momo whimper, watching as her shaft disappeared inside nayeon. her stomach tenses, and momo thinks she won't be able to hold it, until nayeon comes, gushing around her shaft, hips giving out, making momo hilt.

at the first shoot of momo's cum inside her, nayeon gives an answer, pitying her, knowing momo was trying her best to hold it.

"fill mommy up," nayeon says huskily, moaning at the way momo double checks if she's deep enough with a piercing thrust upwards before releasing her seed deep.

jeongyeon envies momo as she watches nayeon get off her lap, with her thighs dripping with momo's fresh cum. she should've been the first to take nayeon, and even if it was her fault that she ended up only allowed to look at them, she still cursed momo for getting to fill nayeon before her.

"now you," nayeon says, getting their attention. "i want you on your hands and knees," she tells jeongyeon. "and momo will use you for as long as i want. it's what she gets for being a good girl."

"what?!" jeongyeon asks, nearly out of breath, cheeks red from both embarrassment and anger. "this is not fair!"

nayeon sighs. "talking back?" jeongyeon closes her mouth. "do you want to be punished that bad, baby? is that what you want? i think it is."

the teasing makes jeongyeon's cock twitch, but she remains quiet. before nayeon has the chance to ask again, jeongyeon props on her hands and knees, reluctantly, and momo quickly gets the lube, spreading it around her shaft and jeongyeon's entrance.

when momo slides in, it doesn't hurt but jeongyeon feels her pride vanishing. even more so when momo acts like she owns her, slapping jeongyeon's ass and grabbing her by the hair, all while nayeon praises her, and jeongyeon couldn't feel more humiliated.

"so fucking tight," momo groans, hips rutting against jeongyeon's, shaft rubbing against jeongyeon's prostate, making jeongyeon let out a sharp cry each time momo sank her cock deep enough.

at some point jeongyeon's arms lose strength and she slumps over the bed, but momo holds her ass up, hips never stopping, not giving jeongyeon a break.

"i know you want to come," nayeon's voice makes jeongyeon whine. she mashes her lips together, wanting to laugh at how pathetic jeongyeon looks. "do it."

jeongyeon follows the command immediately, and nayeon pushes momo back, making jeongyeon feel empty again as she came, and when she tried to touch herself, desperate at the loss of stimulation, nayeon holds her wrists, ruining her orgasm.

"no..." jeongyeon sobs, shaft throbbing painfully, her body falling on the bed completely. "please..." she asks, but it's too late.

"this is only the beginning, baby." nayeon coos, a hand brushing against jeongyeon's back, giving her some sort of comfort.

momo could only watch and be relieved that she wasn't in jeongyeon's place.

[frxgmcnts]

i'll tell you when you get your soft, italicized, "Oh."

ft Lane — the late-night talk

Oh. you figure it out when you realize just how vulnerable they are willing to be with you. it isn't everybody who could or would stay up talking into the night with you, not with such affection or easy familiarity. it isn't everybody who is so understanding of you. it isn't everybody who could bare their soul to you in return. that kind of intimacy... it means deep foundations. it means comfort. it means trust. maybe it's a secret, maybe it's a story, maybe it's something you just never thought of before -- but they say something, late at night, and you realize all at once how remarkable they are, and how special it is to exist in the same time and space as them. "oh" indeed.

tagged by: my loves @r3dblccd ♥ & @dozenrozez ♥

tagging: you!

BONUS; because I did it twice for Evan and it's true that it's a mixture of both results!

the unrelated moment

you tend to be more preoccupied with practical things, to the point where you've been blinded to matters of the heart. sure, you're close with this person. you like to be close with people. it is rewarding to know and be known in return. you leave realization no choice but to sneak up on you. they're not even in the room when it happens. someone or something else spells it out for you, an observant friend's passing comment or a particular sentence you were reading in a book, and suddenly it hits you, what it all means. the person your feelings have been building themselves around. Oh. it's them. it's time. it's them and you, here and now, and you have to decide what to do at this crossroads. luckily, you're practically-minded.

the kiss

you typically wait until the last second to believe the truth--because it would destroy you to believe it, and then find out it was a lie. you are someone who has never wanted to want, but has rarely been able to do anything else. the idea that you might have to break down your walls for the sake of someone else, someone who could easily decide they don't like what is on the other side, is harrowing. why let people get close enough to be rejected? you are enough for yourself. and you will tell yourself that every time you catch yourself staring at their mouth, smirking at their joke, finding a reason to flick their shoulder. until the kiss. that's when the flood of want, want, want bowls over you and you realize that you are torn between two ways of living. Oh, you think. because despite how complicated you have made it, the moment you kiss, somehow, things seem incredibly simple. they won't be once you start thinking again, but for now, for this moment, you live in the quiet peace of revelation. Oh.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Until The Very End -(WITS Sequel)

A/N: I am sobbing them having a family and finally enjoy the peace they always dreamed of... I’m insane for this -Danny

Words: 2,708

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September—December 2004

Having twins wasn't as hard as they thought it'd be. They've had enough practice thanks to the time spent babysitting all the children. The real problem came when they realized they couldn't hand back the twins to their parents when things got complicated— because they were the parents.

Their sleeping schedules were a mess, whenever the twins were asleep was a good time for them too. Harry left Ron in charge and he was now taking a break so he could help Mel at home. Erick and Anne weren't able to, little Eliot Flint was close to arriving and Josie was taking most of their time, without mentioning they also had a six-year-old and a four-year-old to look after.

"I don't know how they do it," Mel whispered to Harry once she'd managed to put her twins to bed. "They look so well-rested all the time!"

"Anne's used to a busy life, helping her parents at the farm and all," Harry yawned, falling back on the bed with only his trousers on. "And Erick... well, he's Erick. That git always looks good."

"One day he'll get older— grey hairs and wrinkles," Mel crawled onto the mattress and fell next to him with a quiet groan. "Maybe he won't be good-looking then."

"I'll look like the sorting hat," Harry complained half-asleep.

"Fiddlesticks," she tilted her head to the side and kissed his cheek. "You'll be annoyingly pretty, like always."

Harry chuckled, eyes closed. "You're my wife, you have to say that."

"Well, I'm your wife so my opinion should be the only one that matters," she raised a brow. "Would you like it if I spent my days sulking because Isaac Movak has moved on to a prettier, younger girl?"

He seemed to wake up with that, and he frowned. "He did what?"

"Oh, he hasn't, but some men think women are less attractive once they're mothers..." Mel shrugged, sitting up to take off her shoes and socks.

"Well, I think you're breathtaking."

"You say that because you're my husband," she teased him.

Harry grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back, towering over her. Mel let out a short yelp that she had to cover with her hand.

"Don't wake them!" Harry looked over his shoulder at the babies. His eyes focused on them frantically.

"Don't do that, then!" She scolded him in a whisper, slapping his chest. "You caught me by surprise!"

"Sorry." Harry kissed her, but when things were starting to get interesting, Emmeline began to cry. Mel pushed the young man away and went to pick up her baby so she wouldn't wake her brother. "Sometimes it feels like they do it on purpose..." Harry muttered in a bad mood.

"They probably do," she grinned. "They want me for themselves a little longer..."

"I had you first," he replied childishly. "Can't I have five minutes in private with my wife..."

"Just five minutes?" Mel tried not to laugh. "Then I'm glad she woke up! Nothing worth doing takes five minutes."

He snorted. "Give her here..." he took Emmeline from her, Harry's gaze shifted, and he spoke in a quiet, gentle voice. "What if I'm a terrible father?"

"Harry..." Mel said in a tone of warning.

He shook his head. "I don't remember how my dad was... I grew up with Uncle Vernon as my only example..."

"Just be you."

"I've never been a dad," he gave her an annoyed look. "I've been a leader, a friend, but this... How am I supposed to know?"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Your father loved you with all his heart, Harry. That's all it takes. You love and care. We won't be able to help them all the time, but we don't have to. Just hold their hand the same way you do with mine. That's enough."

Harry's frown deepened. "What if they don't like me?"

"What if they hate me?" Mel offered casually. "Being a Dumbledore puts too much weight on a kid's shoulders. There'll be a moment when they find out who we were, and who we are outside this house. What if they resent us because of it?"

Harry took the questions like they were absurd. "All I did, I did it thinking of you, and what we could have together once the war ended. I never cared for the rest."

"That's your answer, then," she kissed his cheek. "They'll love you because you loved them even before they even existed. Trust me, Harry. They are my children too, and if they're anything like me, nothing in this world can make them hate you."

"But you did hate me at some point," he said heavily.

To his surprise, Mel laughed. "Oh, Harry, it wasn't hatred," she told him. "I hated that I couldn't have you. I loved you so much I was angry about the distance, that was all."

Harry nodded a bit, then he made his way to the crib and laid their girl on it once she was calm, he stared at Emmeline and James for a moment, a strange look in his eyes. "Let's go to bed."

The routine had finally gone back to normal for a bit... then Hermione got pregnant.

"Babies! Everywhere I look!" Fred cried dramatically. "Can you people stop for just a second? Give me a break!"

"Why don't you travel with Jo for a while, Fred, it sounds like you need it," Erick smirked.

"I don't mind the babies," Regulus spoke up. He was getting taller slowly but surely, and this was giving him more confidence in himself. "More kids means more birthdays, which means cake."

"And more kids to boss around, right?" Mel asked knowingly.

"I don't boss them around," the boy turned up his nose. "They like to listen to me."

"Don't fight with your brother," Emily warned her.

"I'm not fighting, if that were the case he would lose, 'cause I'm older than him. Anyway," Mel turned to Hermione. "Those are wonderful news, 'Mione!"

"You better pray you don't get twins, Ronnie," Fred teased him. "Runs in the family, after all."

"Mine were Harry's fault," Mel stated.

"We don't know that," Harry scowled.

"A Dumbledore's never wrong, Glasses."

"Anne and I decided we'll only have one more kid and then—"

"I thought you would stop after Elliot?" Mel laughed. They were on their way back home, and Erick had decided to bring up the subject after Hermione's news.

"Anne thinks five's better."

"Oh, so it's all Anne's doing, then? You have nothing to do with it?" Harry grinned.

"I like big families," he admitted. "The Weasleys are a cheerful lot, aren't they? I couldn't help myself, I always dreamed of having what they have..."

"You have it," Mel patted his shoulder. "But I warn you, it might not be as fun once they hit puberty."

"Guess where the World Cup will take place this year!" Ginny went up to them happily.

"Where?"

"France!" She exclaimed. "You guys have to go!"

Mel and Harry shared a look. "Dunno, Ginny, the twins are so small..."

"By then they'll be a year old! C'mon, Ron and Hermione said they'd go!"

"But 'Mione's pregnant," Mel insisted. "Not the same as having to look after two babies..."

"Your mother said she'd come! She's taking Reggie! Remus and Tonks are taking the boys too!"

"What about Erick?"

"Oh, you know he's not a fan, but I think Anne will go and she'll bring Emily."

Harry sighed. "We'll think about it."

Ginny seemed to understand as she spoke, although she did look a little disappointed. "Don't feel pressured to, but I'd like it if you were there. It's my first World Cup, after all..."

Once she left, Mel turned to her husband.

"I know that look," Harry shook his head with a bit of amusement. "You're already thinking about it, aren't you?"

"Well, the twins like Quidditch," she offered with a tiny guilty smile.

"They enjoy watching things flying around, not the same as liking Quidditch," he raised a brow and crossed his arms. "Dunno, Mel, aren't they too young?"

"They'll be a year old by that time," she replied eagerly. Truth was she was just as excited about it as anyone else, the last time she'd gone... well, it hadn't been exactly perfect. "Perhaps we can make it work?"

"Jamie, please just finish your bottle," Mel begged him on the verge of tears. "Leen had no problem with hers, why are you not eating?"

"Give that here for a moment..." Harry asked gently, Mel could be very irritable when she was this tired. He tried to reach for the bottle. "Please..."

Mel handed him the item, and Harry examined it. He turned it upside down and pressed, but nothing came out of it. "Huh, did we just buy this one?" He frowned. "I think the hole is sealed up. It's defective."

Mel started crying for real. "I'm a terrible mother!" She blurted out. "The whole hour I was scolding James for not eating and he couldn't even— nothing was coming out! He's probably so hungry..." The young woman held her baby tighter against her, which didn't help James to feel more comfortable and made him squirm even more.

"He's alright," Harry tried to ease her. "I'll fix it, it's really simple... I'll change the tip and it'll be ready to go..."

"What am I going to do once you go back to the Ministry?" she sobbed, nuzzling James's little head miserably. "I'm a lousy mum!"

"Stop that," he said, speaking in a slightly firm voice. "You're weary, it's easy to make mistakes when we can't think properly." Harry took James from her arms. "Go to sleep. I feel alright, I can watch the twins for a bit on my own."

"But—"

"Mel... shut up," he frowned. "We're not discussing it. You need sleep." She cleaned her face like a little kid. For a second Harry saw that little girl he'd helped many times to recover from her panic attacks. His heart softened. "You're tired," he insisted in a gentler voice. "But you've been brilliant so far, everyone says so."

"You think so?" She sniffed.

"I do. I'm very proud of you, and I would like you to go and rest, I need you to be okay too. So do the twins."

"Okay," she nodded, already feeling her eyes closing.

"Thank you," he leaned to kiss her forehead. "Now go, I have a baby to feed."

"This girl is squirmish!" Ron complained.

Mel laughed. "You asked me to let you change her, don't whine."

Harry was working again, and the twins were well aware of his absence, cause they were crying a lot more than before. Ron offered to help her, his boss was especially willing to let him go, anyway.

"Jamesie's next, so you better get to work," she said.

"Smile!" Hermione exclaimed.

Ron and Mel looked toward the doorstep, Hermione had found Mel's old camera. "Wait!" Ron exclaimed, he finished his work on Emmeline, it was messy and bulky, but done at last. "The babies aren't ready!"

"Well, do it quickly!" Hermione laughed.

Mel lifted her son and sat him next to his twin sister, Ron was holding Emmeline straight. Both babies were looking at Hermione with the same Dumbledorish light-blue eyes.

Once Elliot Flint was born, it was hard to keep up with all the toys, baby clothes, and children that were around their home. Weekly, Mel and Harry would have small visitors on their property, more so now that Bill and Fleur were taking their girls to visit so they could spend time with the rest of the children.

George and Angelina were taking his son and daughter as well, they were closer to Elizabeth and Josephine in age, so they were always together. For some reason, Erick's home was as popular with the children as it was Mel's, maybe because even if he was a wonderful parent to the girls, he was still Erick.

He liked the loud scandal his daughters made, but the rest of the children seemed to be a little afraid of him, even if he was always good to them, he'd never outgrown that aura of haughtiness. The only boy who seemed not to fear him was Regulus, and that was because he'd grown up with him.

Little Regulus, who was no longer little, but an eight-year-old with strikingly smart grey eyes and a smile that reminded you who was his father. As the eldest boy in the lot, he was pretty much worshipped by the others, he was their leader and protector from the scary things lurking out in the forest and under beds, and there was a certain little girl who seemed to blush a lot because of it.

"Mel, is your brother coming this weekend?" Em knelt next to her and handed her the watering can.

"I think so," the young woman replied, thanking her briefly. "Why?"

Emily blushed and smiled bashfully, but she didn't reply. Mel shifted her position so she was crouching face to face, and smiled at the little girl with amusement. "Emi?"

The girl giggled and scurried away, Anne walked up to Mel carrying a sleeping James in her arms, his unruly light-brown hair was already growing at a surprising speed. Mel looked up at her and beamed.

"Is Emmeline asleep already?" Her friend nodded and winked at her, Mel sighed in relief. "Your hands are magical, really."

"You'll learn as well, you just need a bit of practice," Anne grinned. "Was Emily rambling about your brother again?"

Mel got up and brushed the dirt off her knees. "Oh, so that's what's happening?"

Anne nodded again, laughing a little. "You know Erick likes to read her and the other girls before bed, but I think she's decided little Leon as her brave knight."

Mel chortled, she could imagine how Regulus would take the news. "Really? Well, I guess it makes sense, he's quite protective of her and her sisters."

"Oh, he's good to all the kids, but she's completely convinced she'll get him to promise to marry her."

"Marry her?" Mel's brows rose in surprise. "Aren't they too young for that?"

"She is very much like her father in every way, it seems," Anne walked with Mel back to the backdoor of the house and into the kitchen. "Hopeless romantic, determined, and a little obsessive about the things she wants."

"Well, she's also kind, polite and charming, so who knows?" Mel replied humorously. "I'm not sure Reggie will like it altogether, though. He has no problem being a knight, but a husband? He's not very fond of marriage," she joked.

"I'm home!" Harry called, brushing off the snow from his shoulders.

The twins immediately stopped and looked up, squirming on the rug at the sound of their father's voice. Mel chuckled at the cute scene. "We're in the nursery!"

Harry climbed the steps two by two, and he found Mel seated on the floor making sure the babies played safely, they were barely four months old, but they were rather active and attentive, probably every parent thought that of their children, but Mel and Harry truly believed their babies were bound to be really bright.

Emmeline and James squealed happily when Harry came into view, the grin on the young man's face widened as he stepped forward, a light beard was once again covering his face, and Mel was definitely not complaining about it.

She made room for him and Harry sat, kissing her cheek affectionately. "Skeeter keeps trying to corner me around the Ministry to ask me about the twins. They're desperate to know their names and what they are."

"They're babies, what else do they need to know?" Mel asked with an absent smile, watching as James tried to crawl toward his dad.

"Apparently their names, their looks and sizes, and whether or not have they shown any signs of remarkable magic," Harry replied in the same tone, waiting patiently for his son to reach him.

Emmeline rolled over and squealed, her chubby little hands tried to push her back on her belly but she wasn't succeeding.

"Well it's obvious that they're the next Merlin," Mel joked.

Harry chortled, he finally picked up James and the little boy giggled, holding onto his dad's robes. The young man planted a tender kiss on his forehead. "They're perfect," he said lovingly, looking up at her with his lovely green eyes. "Everything is."

Mel leaned in and kissed him, James squealed once more at the proximity of his mother and Emmeline cried a bit with frustration, she was stuck. Mel picked her up and then she got to her feet, walking past Harry she ran a hand through his hair. "Are you hungry?"

"Very," he replied, getting up with James firmly tucked in his arms and following her out of the room.

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[roseonne]

pillars made of stars

The GOD-za trio ponders on a whimsical, hypothetical motif for their fabulous troupe.

happy 7th a3!nniversary ! ( ao3 link )

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

And thus comes nightfall.

The entirety of Veludo Way lights up in a wink, making sure that all life shall keep moving even through the sun's temporary absence.

The star-filled expanse of the evening skies seem to invite those who happen to look up to witness its beauty from their homes to come out and admire it some more. The moon's gentle rays add the perfect touch to invoking senses of introspection and gratitude meant for such a special night like this.

Within the safety, comfort, and warmth of being indoors, Shift is quietly glued to a corner, just right by the window.

Haruto notices. The top actor's been watching the outside world go by since the moment he stepped inside his senior's apartment; with Madoka tagging along, of course.

"Wow..." Shift mumbles softly to himself, but clear enough for Haruto to perceive.

Is there something out there that he likes? If so, what is it? Could he perhaps be eyeing a little trinket being sold just across the street that he's too embarrassed to ask about? Odd. The word 'embarrassed' isn't normally partnered with Shift's name.

"Hey," Haruto speaks at last, after coming from the kitchen and helping himself onto the couch, "what's wrong? You're being too quiet, it's quite alarming."

Shift merely lets out a stifled laugh. "Don't worry Haruto-san, it's nothing," he assures his senior with a raised thumb.

"Maybe you're just hungry?" Madoka too must have heard and hence he asks; a phone remains in his hand as he returns from receiving a quick call. "The food's on its way, I think."

"Nah, I'm alright!" Shift insists, beaming with his signature smile. "Really, I am."

Haruto grunts, not so much as satisfied with Shift's minimal responses. But, regardless of how curiousーno, he's not worriedーhe is, he won't pry. This kid doesn't get a lot of chances to act his actual age in the first place. So as his respectable senior, Haruto will no longer criticize him for how he chooses to behave. (He mentally wishes for Shift to take it easy, though.) "Fine, if you say so. Just tell us immediately if you need anything, ya hear?"

"Ayeeee, sir!" The easygoing cheer in Shift's voice that Haruto and Madoka are used to hearing is now back in full effect. Finally. The two consider it a relief. (A big one, at that.)

"Uhm... If you don't mind me asking though, what exactly were you looking at?" The playwright bashfully asks. He walks over to where Shift is seated, and crouches down to his knees beside him.

Curiosity may not have overcome Haruto, but it evidently got the better of Madoka. Oh well. The youngest gladly points to the sky anyway, poking at the little twinkling lights scattered all over it.

"I see." Haruto proceeds as well to stand alongside his juniors, an arm proudly resting on his hip. "Fabulous, aren't they?"

One may think, stargazing is a common recreational activity that families and friends enjoy together on lovely, starry evenings. And it certainly is; until the 'families and friends' in question is GOD-za's famously inseparable trio. With how busy these three are individually and collectively, any supposed time to spare for leisure is rather spent either addressing matters of urgent concern and/or perfecting themselves for the utmost performances to ever grace theater's centerstage. So brief moments like this when the spinning of their worlds slow down a notch (or two), truly equates to a breath of fresh air that each of them hasn't fully realized they all needed at this point.

"Ah!" Madoka suddenly springs to his feet. As if having remembered, he hands the phone he used earlier back to Haruto. "Thank you very much."

"Anytime." He graciously accepts it. "Were you able to contact who you were planning to?"

Madoka politely nods. "I just ordered flowers for my brother."

"Oh, from the flower shop I know of?"

"That's the one!" A chuckle escapes the youngest Ikaruga sibling's lips. "I figured my brother would probably like his motif flowers as a present... Erーaside from onigiris, of course."

"Probably?" Haruto raises an eyebrow. "Madoka, he'll love anything as long as they're from you."

With a remark as such, Haruto could almost see for himself just how heartwarming this brotherly interaction will turn out when it does actually happen. The wishful smile on Madoka's face screams years and years of yearning for a family's love; something he's ever wanted, deserved, and will from now on have to get used to living with for the rest of his life. Good for him.

"Hm... Motif flowers? Mankai Company has them, right?" Shift recalls out loud, breaking the silence that once filled the room (and the mood). "If I remember correctly I think Azami has one assigned to him too!"

"All of them each have their own distinct flower. Although it also depends on the troupe they belong to, I believe." Haruto explains, as a-matter-of-fact-ly; while reclaiming his seat on the sofa. How did he know all this? Let's just say he's that keen as an observant of important details.

"Whoa!" Shift also scoots over to the center table only a couple inches away from him. "We should have flowers for us too!"

"HAH!?"

"Flowers, huh? Well, it does suit their aesthetic." Madoka considers, clutching his chin in thought. "But I'm not really sure if it's in line with GOD-za..."

"Exactly!" Haruto demands, hysterical in both word and deed. "If we're to set a motif for ourselves then it has to reflect GOD-za as a theater company. It has to accurately capture the essence of each member, not only as an employee but also as a person. It should also... And with a... But it must not..."

Amidst the pink-haired's nearly endless rattling, it's as though a lightbulb has been lit that Shift and Madoka come to what appears to be a telepathic agreement between them.

"Whimsically," Shift begins.

"Hypothetically," Madoka adds.

"Haruto-san. If you had to choose something to represent us, GOD-za, what would it be?"

Taking a sip from the cup of tea he brought with him from the kitchen a while ago, Haruto lets out a snarky sigh. "That's easy. We all know the answer to that."

"Uhm... Birthstones?" Madoka attempts a guess, despite hesitating. 

"Eh. Not bad. But too predictable."

"How about our favorite food, then?" Shift also tries swinging his take around. Anyone who knows him likewise knows that he's thinking about just one type of food to assign himself to.

Haruto smacks a palm onto his forehead. "What are we, a restaurant?"

Guiding his juniors onto the same page as he is, is proving to be a much harder task than he expected. But they ought to step up their game; for Haruto's just about to show them what it looks like to be inside the realm of someone already treading the path of eternal beauty.

In one, quick swoop of his round lilac eyes towards the window, Haruto urges them to see once more, what's lies ahead from there. He witnesses a familiar fire light up in both Shift's and Madoka's gazes as they follow through not long later.

The three all share a knowing, insightful look. And without saying anything else, they all turn their heads to the sky; the fabulous answer they so seek, now presents itself gloriously before them.

"The stars!" Madoka exclaims, clearly convinced.

"OHHH!" Shift adjusts himself to view the heavens again, rightfully intrigued.

"Constellations," Haruto repeats, raising his arms up and lacing his fingers together at the back of his head, utterly fulfilled, "there is no other match."

Indeed. The evening has progressed nicely into a darker shade of the night; the moon reigning high up on her throne. And just as the stars seem to sparkle more than they ever have so far, but way before any of them could even recognize the various patterns these glistening lights form into, the food they ordered for dinner that Madoka referred to arrives at long last; pausing any and all sorts of discussion the trio's in the middle of tackling.

Haruto fills in the duty of accepting its delivery and providing payment for such. While he's away, however, mischievous Shift has a secret plan up his sleeve.

Suspiciously crawling his way towards Madoka, he whispers to him with a hoarse voice, "do you think we can talk Reni-san into this?"

"Into having our own motifs!?" Madoka's eyes turn as round as donuts in surprise. "But I thought this was only a hypotheticalー"

"Oh, c'mon. Let's try it! Just once, I promise!" Shift clasps his hands in plea. He doesn't look nor sound like he's backing down from this one any time soon.

Causing Madoka to find himself in a tight pinch. "Well... Maybe we could, butー"

"Great!!" Shift rapidly rubs his palms together. "Let's surprise Haruto-san!!"

Madoka scrambles forth into a panic. "W-Wait! I think we should talk everything out to everyone first..."

"Talk about what?"

Hearing Haruto's stern, regal presence all of a sudden leaves their insides tingling with either anxiety or excitement. Well. Actually, maybe both.

"Haruto-saaaaan!" Shift rushes to his fellow actor in a swift, carefree sprint. "We'll live up to all your expectations, just you wait and seeeee!"

Madoka scurries close after him, desperately hoping to stop him in his tracks on time. "Shift-san, noooo!"

"Haaah!?"

And thus is how the dearly adored GOD-za trio concludes their 27th of January. Loud, but fun. Unironically usual, and perfectly on brand.

Their not-so whimsical, hypothetical zodiac-based motif proposal must still undergo a rather tedious evaluation by the higher-ups, unfortunately; but in hindsight, doesn't it make total sense?

Madoka as Pisces; creative, gentle, and kind.

Haruto as Virgo; hardworking, loyal, and sympathetic.

Shift as Libra; charming, friendly, and acts as a bridge between people.

Whether or not GOD-za approves of such a gig, no thing nor person can ever take away the fact that these three are ultimately meant to be the pillars of the most fabulous theater troupe in Veludo Way.

[genork-the-fandork]

Fog

Word Count: 644

Prompt: "Endings"

Featured Characters: Ryo Tominaga & Kunemon

A/N: [I was impatient to post this lol] Of course the last day is dedicated to Ryo! Even though I haven't played nearly as much of the game as perhaps I should have by now, I really appreciate Ryo's character and what he does for the game itself. It's really just so interesting to see how one character can make a world of difference. So, yes, this particular drabble is very spoiler-heavy and maybe breaks the fourth wall. (I took some liberties, is all I'll say.) But I think Ryo deserved something dramatic for this last day. Thank you all for allowing me the chance to write about these characters who stole my heart from day one!

@surviveweek

The vision of his mother was all too convincing. Ryo grabbed his hand and kept it pinned to his body so he wouldn't reach for her. He couldn't reach for her. She wasn't real. She was dead, dammit. Haru was right. He knew better than anyone that she wasn't coming to save him, no matter how much he wanted that. It simply wasn't possible anymore.

But something strange happened as he resisted the vision. An image in his mind. More than an image—it was like a dream. In it, he saw the grief-stricken looks on the others' faces. Even Minoru, who sometimes teased him relentlessly, had an expression wracked with guilt. They were all blaming themselves for not reaching out to him more. But no… that wasn't quite right. He hadn't wanted to reciprocate. He was too in his head to fully interact with them. So why were they…?

The vision got worse. He saw Shuuji breaking down, losing his mind over something that phony, Arukenimon, was doing to him. Her laughter caused a shudder down his spine. Couldn't she see Shuuji was suffering? He was losing himself, much like Ryo himself felt right at this moment. That's the point, he realized. I won't be the only one to break down. In a manner too horrific, Shuuji died, too.

Dead?

Oh, no. He was about to die, wasn't he? Giving up meant death. And then… all this would happen.

Once again, the vision shifted. There were three outcomes to all of this. No matter what, the road was paved with destruction or death, or both. Ryo couldn't believe what he was seeing. This was so much worse than he could have imagined. So much pain and suffering, all starting with him?

No. He wasn't going to let that happen. He couldn't let that happen. Ryo's hands curled into fists at his side. Up until this point, he hadn't exactly been the most helpful, and he was well aware of that. While the others seemed perfectly fine to try and figure out this world and how to get out, he'd been curled up in a corner or following an evil spider-lady around like a puppy. Seriously, what had been the deal with that? He wasn't going to leave everyone behind to face all of this alone. They didn't deserve that. Ryo Tominaga was a lot of things, and he could admit to a lot of them being true. But right now, he was determined to make sure that every single one of them got out of this crazy world alive. Including him.

"Enough!" he yelled at the vision of his mother. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily! Just leave me alone!"

The vision of his mother frowned, but as he demanded, it disappeared. Even the fog that had been encroaching upon where he was standing with Kunemon started to recede. Okay. He could do this. Deep breaths.

For once, his mind was clear. All the worries that had been plaguing him, though not entirely gone, were at least mostly quiet. Yes. He could do this. It wouldn't be easy, but he was going to do it.

"Kunemon," he said, turning to the little insect that had inexplicably stuck by him all this time. "Take me back."

"Kew?" Though he didn't have eyes, Kunemon looked surprised to be addressed so directly.

"Yeah. Take me back. We've gotta make sure they're all okay."

"Kew kew!" Kunemon leaped a few inches off the ground, turning back the way he had come. For some reason, Ryo didn't see Haru around, though maybe he'd been fleeing the fog. He would see to that when he'd returned to the others.

Yeah. He was going to be alright. And so long as he had anything to say about it, so was everyone else. They would survive this. Together.