#we live in a fallen world. this world is unfair but there's a chance at redemption

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

Can people stop the "Don't call yourself a feminist if-" crap? Y'all still believe in the blatant lies of that movement and ideology?

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

A/n: A little bit late for Valentine, but here ya go! Idk when I'll continue this, but this has been stuck in my brain for a long time.

Goldwing

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

You’ve heard about the story tales from your Mother Sera. How Lucifer has fallen because of his bizarre dreams.  To give humans a free will, which cost chaos to the world. 

As a punishment he was forced out of heaven with his Love Lilith. Sera claims that she wanted you to be safe, so there is one top rule she set up: Don’t Question heaven. 

You keep on holding tight to this one rule, not like your sister Emily. She gets into a lot of trouble when you’re not watching, which gets you also in trouble. 

Big Sister, Big responsibility, that’s what your mother always says. 

Sitting on the couch looking down at the apple sign on your wrist. It was a small apple with a snake surrounding it. It’s a Soulmate mark.

Every Angel gets a soulmate, so they get the perfect heir, some angels describe It as a heart pull and ache. You don’t really enjoy that you’re forced to love someone. It’s somewhere unfair that humans can marry someone they choose to love and trust. Meanwhile when Angels reject their bond, it will kill the two Soulmates in a span of time. 

Even when they’re too long apart it will show in a disturbing way. Aggression, Not eating, no sleep, the list goes on and on.

Putting your sleeve above your mark, not wanting anyone to see it. You got once because of it in trouble. Not a pleasant memory that you want to re live.

It does remind people of Lucifer, but he got Lilith, his soulmate. So that possibility is shrunk to zero. Why else sacrifice living in heaven for a woman?

Today was the meeting with Charlie the daughter of Lucifer. She wanted to talk about a hotel named Hazbin Hotel. 

…Time Skip…

The court room was all a mess, chaos has broken out whispering and hushes echoed through the pearly white halls. 

Emma broke the Silence with her soft singing voice “But she was right, Sera. She Showed us the soul can Improve. He saw the light, Sera. Checked all the boxes that you said would.” You Interrupted Emily and for the first-time in your live, you disobeyed the one set rule. 

“Prove a person deserve a second chance, now we turn our Backs, no second glance?” Sera looked towards you slightly disappointed but also guilty. 

Then the bomb was thrown in the room, extermination. It left you speechless. Why hide something like this and say it was for protection? 

It all went down so quick and with one move you started to doubt everything in heaven. Sera was scared, scared shitless that she’d loose Emily and you, but mostly you. 

You started to Ignore her and rarely left your room. The betrayal was harsh for you. You trusted your mother dearly and now you find out that your mother kills souls because she feels threatened. Threatened because of Lucifers dreams she said was once foolish. 

You started to break rules after Rules, causing a havoc in heaven when you leaked the Information about an extermination in hell. And in less than a week you were in chains in the courtroom. 

“Do you have any Idea what damage you’ve done Y/n?” Sera’s voice echoed through those now soulless halls. The seats now all almost empty. “What damage I’ve done? You call me the Imposter, but have you ever thought what you’ve done? You lied to your people AND your Family Sera.” 

Ouch, you never called her Sera just Mom. “Just do it already, I’m tired of hanging in here and watching my failure of a mother trying to push this longer.” You spat on the cold floor. The coldness reminds you how the last few days felt in heaven. Cold and lonely. “As you wish, do it.” her voice cracked, it was barely audible, but you could hear it. 

You shut your eyes tight and with a swift Moment you felt how your wings were cut off, your scream filled these cool, lonely court room. Sera was already gone, not wanting to see how she failed in one of her children.

The rest of your wings were ripped out of your back, making gold blood squirting all over the white floor painting it in a unique color. And then you fell, too exhausted to let out a desperate call for the comfort of your own mother.  

She didn’t even stay. 

Tears pooled lightly out of your eye. Even though heaven didn’t feel like home anymore, you’ll still miss heaven. 

The wind gushed on your Injured back making it only hurt more than it already does, you fell so fast, this is something you never really experienced you never fell as an Angel. But you fell, you fell deep and Landed on the ground. 

It the worst you’ve felt in these last hundred years of living. The bone that was connecting your wings with your body broke more into splinters at the impact. It had dirt sticking on your bones making you hiss as you tried to stand up making them move slightly in the dust. No success. 

You tried a couple more times, but you feel your stamina running out fast, so you just gave up. You laid there for a couple of seconds before you eventually pass out. 

Lucifer sat in his magic room, where his magical creations came from. The only thing besides Charlie what kept him happy. He took final glances at his old façade. 

It’s time to move on and move into the Hazbin hotel, even though he hates that radio guy, he does everything for his little Charlie. He walked out of his mansion closing it with a key. Taking a deep breath, he spun around and was ready to go. 

Something crashed loud in front of him, swirling all the dirt into Lucifers face. He coughed and waved the dust away. “What the fuck?” He looked at the cause for this early tumult, only to see a very beautiful woman in front of him. It didn’t take him a while to see that she was pretty bad Injured. His eyes dropped at the golden blood. “Oh no.”

The figure tried to stand up but fall multiple times and passed out after a while. No, no, no, no. Turning her around to see the damage, and it is bad. 

Three main bones ripped and broken apart, making him note down that she wasn’t just any Angel, she is a seraph. “Let me help you.” He carried her body very carefully, so he couldn’t do more damage towards her back. Teleporting himself and his other stuff in the hotel apartment, he laid you on his bed with your belly pressed on the mattress. 

He started to heal your back slowly and washed off the dirt from your face and the injury. He knew he couldn’t fully heal her wings back. But she could survive this with his help. And in an odd reason he couldn’t let her die. Some kind of pull on his heart making him already slightly attach towards the sleeping beauty. 

And this routine was repeated every day and when he realized her back was fully healed, he turned her on her back again. Seeing her now in all her beauty. 

“How can someone be this pretty?” he moved a hair strand out of your face and held your cheek. Stroking it a couple of times, it is as if he’s hypnotized. 

Shaking his head, he let go of her very quickly, “Lucifer you can’t just touch someone, she doesn’t even know you nor who you are.” He bit his long-clawed hand, debating whether he should go or not. 

In the end he left the room with heavy displeasure. Somehow not being near you made him angry. You were hurt and needed every protection he could offer. 

His mind screamed at him to go back to you, but he didn’t. This feeling confused the king of hell but, His mind and body were almost like two separate people.

 He pulled up his sleeve looking down at the red apple mark with a golden blue snake on it, like his halo. It was his Soulmate mark, he loves or loved Lilith dearly, but she wasn’t his mate. 

They both thought it may didn’t showed because Lilith is after all a human. Even when he had a soulmate, after landing in hell, he knew he’d never see his soulmate ever. 

He pulled his white sleeve again over the mark, not wanting to think about the what ifs. Maybe helping his daughter would keep his mind from you. “Let’s help Charlie.” 

After a while Lucifer still caught himself worried about you. 

You were laying on his bed for weeks, he healed you every morning and every evening hoping that you’d finally wake up. 

The arch angel Lucifer, and now king of hell, was worried about a seraph, what sarcasm. 

Getting ready for bed, Lucifer started to dress himself in his night gown and went to the couch. Since you’re sleeping on his bed, Lucifer decided to sleep on the couch. He didn’t want to disturb your healing progress

…

Hugging yourself into this blanket was heaven, and the smell of sweet apple and an alluring scent of musk. You never want to leave this place, for the first time since months you felt in peace. 

Fluttering your eyes open, you stretched you arms and legs, but one thing was missing. Your wings. And then reality came crushing down on you. You fell, from heaven. Your mother let you fall down the drain. She lied and didn’t even try to explain it to you. 

It was hard to breath as if you’d re-live the horror of falling from heaven down to hell.

You shacked uncontrollable making you Fall out of the bed. Out of habit you tried to fly those few centimeters. 

With a shallow thumb you fell on the floor. 

You winced from the Impact, and you tried to push yourself up with the next high object with shivering hands. 

This was a different gravity situation. 

Without your wings you slumped forwards, nothing to weigh your back. 

You pushed yourself upwards with the help of the shelf above you. The shelf lets out a creak from your weight and you fall back down with the shelf. 

The whole content on the shelf fell and crashed into pieces and you fell right into them. 

The ceramic pieces digged into your freshly healed wounds, you know that when you move, you’ll re-open the back wound. 

Out of panic your body began to move on autopilot.

With low groans and muffled screams, you leaned on the bed, golden blood smearing around the broken shelf and the white mattress. 

You started to sob at the pain. 

It was dark and all you wanted was to bathe yourself in the scent of that blanket. 

You searched for it. 

In the darkness you couldn’t quite figure it out where the blanket was but after a while you found it.

Holding the piece of cloth on your nose just to smell the comforting scent. You yelped when the light flicker on. A figure standing in the light. The figure was about 5’10 tall. 

You hid behind the blanket not wanting to look at the sudden appearance at the front door. 

…

Lucifer shot up at the sound of breaking ceramic. His mind told him to run towards the sound that came out of your room making him high alert. 

An Intruder? 

But who’d dare to come into the king of hells chamber?

Then he remembered that you were in his room, and without second thought he rushed towards your bedroom turning on the lights.

“You’re awake!”

[lampochkaart]

Once again I'm thinking about how well written Kaito actually is. Even his irrational actions are pretty understandable and explainable.

Take, for example, the most obvious moment. His behavior after the Gonta's Trial. He had a falling out with Shuichi because detective was directly opposing him and siding with Kokichi during their argument. It's stupid of Kaito to be angry. He's wrong, and Shuichi was trying to prove it to him in order for everyone to vote correctly. Saihara had no choice because if they would've voted incorrectly, they would've died. But Kaito got angry, taking this as a personal betrayal.

And this is kinda understandable behavior for him. We've seen that Kaito is emotional and hot-tempered. We know that when he gets angry, he doesn't think rationally. We also know that he's very stubborn, and he doesn't really like to give up even if he knows that he's wrong.

Most likely, he even was angry not at Shuichi, but at the whole situation as a whole. It is unfair that Gonta has to die. It also goes against Kaito's view of the world. That someone might think that death is mercy. This is the reason why he was so angry with Ryoma in the second chapter. This is the reason why he forgave Kirumi for her actions. He considers life to be the most valuable and precious thing in the world.

This opinion makes even more sense when you look at it from the point of view of someone who is dying of an unknown disease, who has little time left and a very small chance of survival. From this point of view, he simply can't understand how someone could decide to end not only their own life, but also the lives of others.

Another reason he fell out with Shuichi is because, as he later admits, Kaito was jealous of him. Kaito saw that Shuichi was much more attentive to evidence, Kaito saw that he was better at making logical conclusions, and he saw how everyone believed at Shuichi, how everyone considered Shuichi much more reliable. And no matter how hard Kaito tries, he won't be able to reach this level. He was trying to play the role of a hero, but realized that Shuichi was becoming more suitable for this role, while Momota was becoming his shadow. And this feeling made him increasingly angry at Shuichi, instead of being proud of him.

Perhaps because of this, he did not even realize how much he was appreciated. He was surprised when Shuichi told him that everyone was preparing for a battle to rescue him from captivity. His envy clouded his vision to the point where he could no longer see how important *he* was to the group.

And, last but not least, the reason why Kaito had an argument with Shuichi. Certain someone specially pushed him towards this. Kokichi pitted Shuichi and Kaito against each other throughout the Fourth Trial. Kokichi was purposefully getting at Kaito's nerves. He immediately accused him of murder, insulted him at every opportunity, trampled his ideology into the mud, and praised Shuichi, convincing Kaito that the detective considered him an idiot, and Momota was only hindering him with attempts to participate in the discussion. Kokichi was hitting all of Kaito's painful points with deadly accuracy, getting under his skin and sowing discord in the group.

Considering all these reasons, Kaito's behavior after Gonta's Trial is understandable. It makes sense for him to act this way. It is illogical from a common sense point of view, but it is logical from a character point of view.

Many of these reasons also explain why he charged at Kokichi when he declared himself the mastermind. Of course, it's stupid to approach a person holding a remote control for giant robot weapons. But, again, Kokichi himself pushed him to it. Momota gets angry every time Ouma talks dismissevely about those who died. Naturally Kaito will lose his temper after all the cruel words that Kokichi said about his fallen friends. And Kokichi himself gave him the idea to try to punch him, because it was part of his plan. And Kaito has long wanted to prove (especially to himself) that he can be useful to the group. At that moment, he wanted to do something, anything to vent his frustration, even if this “anything” was a foolish, reckless attack.

In conclusion, Kaito is a very cool, well-thought-out character, and I really love both his strengths and weaknesses, because it makes him multifaceted and alive.

[lily-blue]

Three magical words

☆ characters: best friend!taehyun & you ☆ genre: soulmate au, friends to lovers ☆ summary: you live in a world where you have to exchange i love yous with your soulmate for fate to tell you they are the one for you; if they are not, your relationship is destined to fall apart sooner or later ☆ words: 6,2k ☆ also: i’d like to dedicate this story to my own soulmate, @dat-town​ ♥ it’s crazy how it’s been nine years already that we started to talk… sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday (or well, a couple of years at most, to be more realistic), but other times it feels like we’ve known each other our whole life. damn, we’re really getting old, aren’t we, kathy? anyway, i love you to the moon~ ☆ taglist: @soobin-chois​

When you had been young, around seven or eight years old, you had often thrown careless I love yous like they had been confetti. However, the older you had grown, the more you had understood why adults were so afraid of these words. They had already learned an important lesson you had yet to learn in your teenage years: how it felt when one’s heart got broken.

You lived in a world where no matter how much effort you put into a romantic relationship or how determined you were that you genuinely loved that person, if you weren’t together with your soulmate, things never worked out. Of course, there were people who refused to believe that they didn’t have a say in who their heart belonged to. They were the majority of society, actually, people who were willing to try just to fail over and over again, unwilling to realize that their reasons for breaking up were more or less the same: different schedules, different interests, and different goals in life. Their bond simply wasn’t strong enough to last.

Yet, to find such an unbreakable connection, you needed to give a chance to a lot of people. It was unfair, but that was how the soulmate system worked: you were either one of the lucky ones who were a hundred percent sure in their feelings, or you were bound to break under the weight of your uncertainties. Because only when you exchanged I love yous with the one who was destined to be with you did fate tell you whether they were the one you could love unafraid. It was a wicked game, but a game no one could escape from and everyone bounded to participate in one point in their life.

You couldn’t have said that you were different from the majority. There had been a time when you had also thought you had total control over your love life, hence you had experienced the same stages everyone did while growing up. As soon as you had learned about the soulmate system, you had sworn that you would be an exception and that your heart would be okay even after giving out chances to people whose love wasn’t made for making you happy. Then, you had gotten into your first relationship; there had come the first banters over his clinginess and your need for personal space, and the first fights that you couldn’t have solved with simple sorrys… The realization that you two hadn’t been a good match had come sooner than your acceptance. As many teenagers, you had also hated to admit that you had been wrong, so you had stayed with your first love for a year just to make the heartbreak more painful when you hadn’t seen the butterflies in your tummy coming alive once the confessions had fallen from your lips on the night of your anniversary. The pain had changed you. You had become wary and soon after, you had closed yourself off from potential soulmates entirely.

According to your mother, your eagerness to open up to others in hope of finding your other half would come back with time, but you really weren’t so sure. You would have liked to think that your life was a whole on its own, too, and you didn’t need anyone to fill in the cracks since those as well were a part of the real you.

There were more important things in life than romantic love anyway. Like your best friend’s birthday month and your (hopefully) last winter break before you became a full-fledged adult with a business degree. Your urge to diss the society with Taeyhun on his worn couch while munching on instant ramen and to complain about how difficult it was to get a job even when one was willing and had super low standards was indescribably high as usual. February never failed to bring the worst out of you. Cold months never did.

A week before Valentine’s Day, you were on a friendly date with Taehyun at that new coffee shop that had opened a corner from your family’s home, just killing some time and enjoying life to the fullest, when your mutual friends finally arrived and you could stop dwelling on whether you should have asked for a cinnamon latte or an apple pie flavored one. Although you knew it most probably wasn’t the last time you came here, so making a decision wasn’t that crucial - you could have always tried the other one next time, after all -, you still had a hard time choosing. For some reason, you always did, even at places you were a regular at, hence ended up ordering the same thing week after week.

‘Are you sure it’s a good i…’ Hueningkai’s voice reached your ears when you put the plastic menu card back in its holder and waved at the newcomers with a soft smile that they did not return.

You furrowed your brows in confusion when Beomgyu cut his friend off mid-sentence while he threw his coat on the back of the chair in front of you.

‘I’ve already told you I am. It’s romantic. Choerry likes these kinds of stuff and I think it’s lovely,’ he claimed, confusing you even more, because it sounded like they were arguing about Beomgyu’s girlfriend and you had thought everyone liked the shy albeit cheerful girl he was seeing since early December.

‘What are you bickering about this time?’ You inquired, knowing that if it wasn’t you, no one would ask them for details. Your best friend might have had a soft spot for his close friends, but he didn’t like unnecessary drama.

‘Nothing.’

‘He wants to confess on Valentine’s Day,’ Hueningkai said at the same time Beomgyu tried to put an end to the conversation, earning a displeased huff from the younger boy.

The silence that fell on your small group was heavy with unsaid arguments, unasked advice, and palpable anxiety; it planted itself in your chest and made it hard to think of anything else but those scars each one of you had worn on your heart. You were munching on your lower lip while you were trying to come up with something, anything you could have said.

‘Jeez… Don’t be so supportive,’ Beomgyu grumped, visibly irked by everyone’s reaction, not that you blamed him for it. It must have hurt him that his closest friends were so unwilling to support his relationship, but in reality, he had to know that they were only worried about him. They were just boys. They showed concern differently.

‘It’s because you’re stupid. You chose the worst day to break your hearts,’ Taehyun claimed, his unbothered tone borderline scolding. You sucked in your lower lip in panic, exchanging an uneasy glance with Kai before you shifted your gaze back to Beomgyu. You wished you could have lightened up the mood somehow, but the soulmate topic was a sensitive topic all around the world, especially for people your age. Generally, young adults had already lived enough to encounter heartbreaks, but were still too young to accept them as an inevitable part of life.

‘Yerim is my soulmate. I can feel it,’ Beomgyu retorted before he smashed his palms against the table and pushed himself into a standing position. His gaze wandered from one person to another until it returned to Taehyun. ‘You’ll be sorry for not supporting me.’

As soon as Beomgyu turned his back on your table and took the first steps towards the blonde boy behind the counter, you nudged your best friend with a disapproving sigh.

‘Don’t you think it was unnecessarily rude?’ You asked quietly yet firmly, not taking your worried eyes off the boy who was currently vibing with the barista like the two of them had known each other for decades. Beomgyu’s big theatrical hand gestures would have made you smile on any other day, under any other circumstances, but with his last words echoing in your head, they only amplified your protective, big sister side.

‘Last time he confessed, he was wailing for weeks. It’s not rude enough,’ Taehyun said before he stood up as well and pulled Hueining Kai towards their friend to order.

You stayed seated to make sure your table didn’t get accidentally occupied by another group of friends - a habit you had gained during those summer breaks that you had spent in Europe with your aunt and her family -, and watched the boys with your chin resting atop of the back of your hand.

You knew Beomgyu loved company even when he was sad. He was the type of person who both wanted to hide his sorrow and put it on display at the same time, someone who wanted to seem strong, but craved pampering, too. Because of these, he usually ended up venting in a sarcastic way, turning his situation into a joke, then crying two minutes into the movie you were watching together because the characters were so relatable (or because his ex loved the same popcorn flavor you had offered him carelessly without knowing this crucial detail).

Reminiscing about the last time Beomgyu had thought he found his soulmate, you hoped he was a bit more ready for the consequences this time.

‘Here.’

You snapped your head in Taehyun’s direction when he slid your drink in front of you and shot a grateful smile at him when he did the same with his own. Your chest felt warm at the realization that he had ordered both lattes you wanted to try and even let you choose which one you wanted to keep for yourself.

‘Thanks,’ you beamed at him, loving the newness of the apple pie latte on the tip of your tongue, but choosing the familiar taste nevertheless.

You offered a sip from the cinnamon latte to Taehyun and smiled at the way he hummed around the paper straw, stealing another gulp for good measure before he gave it back to you.  He might have looked grumpy and annoyed seven or eight times out of ten - depending on various external factors in his life such as the number of assignments he had to finish a week or how big of a mess his roommates might have left at their place -, but you loved how under the heartless facade, he was such a big softie for his friends. You wouldn’t have changed a single thing about him even if you could.

You spent hours at the coffee shop, chatting about the anime you were watching these days, childhood memories with each other and your own families, how you could still remember Februaries when you could have played in the snow, and recipes you wanted to master for the new semester at the dorm. It was fun and the background music was tranquil enough for you to not want to leave the place anytime soon. However, your sore asscheeks definitely weren’t of the same opinion and nor were the boys’.

Since both Taehyun and you had moved back to the neighborhood for the winter break to spend some with your families, but the boy’s parents were rarely at home due to their busy schedules, he offered their place for a impromptu movie night (you might have dropped hints here and there that you had still hadn’t seen that sci-fi movie he couldn’t have stopped talking about when it had come out) and almost regretted immediately when Soobin, Yeonjun, and Sakura also showed up at his door.

You were sandwiched between Sakura and Taehyun on the couch with a blanket on your legs and a bowl of Cheetos in your hands when the movie started and stayed there through the night even when Hueningkai put on a comedy next, or when Yeonjun insisted on watching the Chinese Step Up movie for old time’s sake. Seeing the cast, suddenly, you couldn’t decide whether he was teasing you because of your Channing Tatum obsession in middle school or your UNIQ phase that, more or less, was still going strong.

Either way, the movie was very much up to your liking since it reminded you of that summer when you had successfully convinced your parents to let you attend the dance camp where you had first met Yeonjun. Your fleeting crush on the older boy might have subsided the moment he had sat beside you during the bonfire and your hair had caught on fire because of the stick he should have roasted the marshmallows on, but your bond had been unbreakable ever since. You also liked seeing Kim Sungjoo’s smile.

The plot was already over its climax when your best friend’s head fell on your shoulder and you couldn’t have helped an endeared smile when your gaze stuck on his slightly parted lips. Spending so much time with a bunch of extroverts must have been tiring for him, too, but you appreciated him for making this night possible.

Admittedly, you didn’t pay too much attention to the movie after Taehyun had fallen asleep. His calm features were simply more interesting. (At least, to you.) Not to mention that one look at his hand so close to yours was enough for your mind to be immediately occupied with thoughts you rarely let loose. You wondered how it would have felt to hold it again like when you had been younger and your homeroom teacher in elementary school had forced you to hold hands with your classmates while walking from your classroom to the school yard. A part of you doubted his skin would have still been soft against yours, but if you wanted to be honest, those memories might have been altered by your imagination. You knew for a fact that little Taehyun hadn’t been a big fan of you back in those days. He had always called you stupid.

Still, at moments like this, when you could burn the tiniest details of his face in your memories without his snarky remarks, you found yourself pondering whether Taehyun giving you so much comfort with his presence could have meant more than friendship. Could it have been what Beomgyu was feeling whenever he was dead set on how he had already found his soulmate? Maybe. But even if it was, it wasn’t that he hadn’t been wrong about it before.

And it wasn’t that you could have tested it out on your own. Even if you had said those words to your best friend, you were pretty certain he wouldn’t have said it back to you to allow the system to prove your assumption right or wrong. You could be sure about this because when you two had met, you had been still a toothless six-year-old and he had screamed at you whenever you carelessly told someone you loved them a lot.

‘Was it that bad?’ Taehyun’s raspy voice pulled you back to the present, painting your cheeks a light shade of pink.

‘Hm?’

‘The movie,’ he pointed out with his head still on your shoulder. His voice was quiet like a whisper, but because of his closeness and how his breath tickled your neck, it felt like he was screaming at you. It dressed your lower arm in goosebumps. ‘You’re deep in thoughts.’

You let out a soft chuckle when he lifted his hand in front of your face and poked the furrow between your brows.

‘I’m just tired,’ you whispered, not pulling away or making the smallest attempt to shake his hand off. Taehyun and you had grown closer during high school and your bond had become a lot stronger during your university years, but it was still rather unusual that he touched you. You wanted to prolong the momentarily intimacy.

‘Then stay. I’m sure your mom wouldn’t mind it,’ he proposed, tainting you with the idea. Your parents lived ten minutes from Taehyun’s family, but it was already past midnight and the weather was unreasonably cold. Staying over sounded like a dream coming true.

‘Okay. But I’m not making us breakfast,’ you agreed, the ultimate tasting weak on the tip of your tongue. You might have loved the way his pillowy blankets embraced your body in the morning, they might have made it super hard to get out of bed too soon, but you would have done so without any complaints if he had asked you to. 

You knew he was aware of it, too.

‘Fine. I’ll make us some omelet if you send them away,’ your best friend negotiated and only then you realized that you two weren’t alone in the living room.

A bit disoriented, you turned your head towards your friends. Soobin and Kai were helping Sakura with the empty bowls and bottles, Beomgyu was flexing his dance moves to everyone and anyone who was willing to pay attention to him, while Yeonjun was texting and dealing with your hyperactive friend simultaneously. The laptop’s screen was already black, but you had a feeling that no one had bothered to turn it off.

You looked down at your best friend.

‘Deal,’ you agreed with an over-exaggerating sigh before you pulled away from the boy and stood up from the couch.

Standing, you clapped your hands to gain everyone’s attention, then told them the horrible news: it was time for them to leave. Despite his pouty lips, there wasn’t an ounce of mercy in you when Beomgyu tried to convince you why you should have persuaded Taehyun to let him stay, too, but did make him and the others a mug of hot chocolate to give them some extra warmth for the road. You weren’t heartless after all.

(Although, Taehyun couldn’t stop smiling at you when half an hour later, you shut the door in Beomgyu’s face.)

You spent Valentine’s Day with Yeonjun, Sakura, and Taehyun. The four of you pretended to be on a double date to get discounts in that popular coffee shop near campus that none of you could have afforded on a daily basis and one of the trending restaurants downtown where one needed to wear elegant clothes to be acknowledged. The experience might have failed to beat last year when Hueningkai had convinced you to go to the amusement park with him, but it successfully took your mind off Beomgyu’s date and the possibility of him getting his heart broken on the very day most people celebrated love.

‘Should we grab a drink? I feel like we should,’ Sakura thought out loud, pulling you towards the nearest bus stop by your arm, giggling as though she had said or heard something funny. The red wine you had drunk with your steak must have gotten in her head.

You turned your head and looked behind your back, rosy lips pouty and eyes pleading, but Yeonjun was too busy with his phone as he usually was these days and Taehyun did nothing but pouted back at you. You groaned in defeat when Sakura tugged on your coat and repeated her question.

‘I don’t think I can drink more. Why don’t we go back to the boys’ place and watch a movie? We could cuddle,’ you proposed, knowing well how much she loved nuzzling close to people during your movie nights regardless of their gender. It was never about intimacy for her, but the comfort that another person’s warmth could give her. She rarely spoke about it, but she missed Kagoshima and her family there a lot.

Sakura furrowed her brows, tapped her lower lip with her index finger once, twice, and three times, then shot a beaming smile at you.

‘Sounds good to me,’ she agreed before she noticed the night bus you planned to take and ran towards it with an iron grip on your hand and without giving a damn whether the boys were following you two.

Needless to say, she fell asleep on the couch in the guys’ shared apartment before you could have chosen a movie; thus, Yeonjun had to carry her to Soobin’s bedroom because the boy was luckily out of town and none of you had the heart to let her sleep in the living room.

The following morning, you woke up for the familiar smell of freshly brewed coffee and your best friend’s delicious omelet. You also heard a loud thud from the other side of Taehyun’s bedroom’s door, but you were too lazy to get out of bed and investigate when it was most probably one of your friends’ doing.

You turned away from the windows, pulled the blanket over your shoulders, so that it would have hid them perfectly, then closed your eyes to steal yourself five more min…

‘I’ve an important announcement. Get your ass to the living room!’ Beomgyu yelled from the threshold, his words getting louder and louder until you threw a pillow at you. ‘Hah! I knew you were awake. Taehyun’s just too soft on you.’

‘Get out!’ You groaned, lowkey wondering whether everyone else was already up or you were his first victim that morning. Yeonjun would have probably killed him if he had barged in on him after last night and you would have definitely woken up if he had dared to do the same to a hangover Sakura, right?

‘You have two minutes. I have important news!’ He insisted, coaxing another pained groan out of you before he shut the door. You wanted more than two more minutes, but you were aware that Beomgyu’s threats were rarely empty. You had already seen him exchanging sugar for salt in those identical containers the boys had, hiding Soobin’s underwear in their freezer, and throwing one of Kai’s plushies out the window when they disregarded him.

You walked out of the room with a fluffy blanket around your figure and headed straight to the couch with half-opened eyes.

‘Finally, our dear Pillow Princess decided to bless us with her presence,’ Beomgyu said, the nickname falling from his lips in English, making you wonder whether he would have ever learned what this phrase really meant or when would someone from your friend group make the effort to enlighten him.

‘Get to the point, Beomgyu!’ You grumped, then sat down on the couch and leaned your head on the closest shoulder you found. It was Yeonjun’s, whose other one was already supporting Sakura’s head.

The living room’s temperature was pleasantly warm and the blanket around you almost lulled you back to sleep when Taehyun joined the half-asleep group and Beomgyu took it as a sign to raise his voice again.

Your shoulders tensed when the boy clapped his hands, but then you felt a soft touch on your arm and turning towards the culprit, you came face to face with your Hello Kitty mug. You raised a brow, but accepted the coffee your best friend had made you with a grateful smile.

‘I found my soulmate. It’s Yerim, obviously, in case someone still has doubts,’ the boys said with a smug smile on his face as he dragged his gaze from one person to another. ‘I accept apologies in cash and donuts,’ he added, clearly waiting for something.

However, words didn’t come so easily. Not because you weren’t happy for him and Choerry. You were delighted that they had found each other. It was rather the initial shock that made your tongue heavy.

Still, you willed yourself and stood up from the couch, put your mug in the base of the worn furniture, and let the blanket pool at your knees as you rushed up to the boy and pulled him in your embrace. You might have been too sleepy a minute ago to remember his risky plan for Valentine’s Day, but now that you did, all your worries and gratitude came crashing down on you at once.

‘I’m so happy for you,’ you murmured against his ear, caressing his nape with your slightly trembling hand. ‘How did she take it? Did you stay with her for the night? If so, why are you here? Did you really leave her alone to brag to us about your soulmate in person?’ You threw every question at him that your mind was able to form, scolding him and congratulating him at the same time. Though, you weren’t angry with him anymore for waking you up.

You couldn’t have told when you started to cry or whether it had been you who had shed the first happy tears or Beomgyu. It hardly even mattered when the rest of your friends joined in the hug and you were suddenly sandwiched between Yeonjun and Beomgyu or Taehyun and Beomgyu, fighting for each breath.

You spent the morning in the living room, munching on your omelet, sipping on good coffee, and listening to the boys’ stories from the day before as though you hadn’t been present when Yeonjun had kissed Sakura’s cheek for a free macaron or when Taehyun had pretended to be a foreigner so that the overexcited waiter at the same coffee shop would have stopped giving him relationship advice.

It was around 1PM when Soobin got back from Ansan and around an hour or two later when Sakura and Yeonjun left for dance practice. Still in your pajamas, you were contemplating if you should have gone home, too, but then your best friend proposed an Alice in Borderland marathon that you couldn’t refuse.

‘Do you think we will also meet our soulmates one day?’ You found yourself asking while you were waiting for the popcorn in the kitchen, your thoughts wandering back to Beomgyu and Yerim at the sight of the hot choco Taehyun was preparing for you.

You paid close attention to his body language, praying that your blunt question didn’t upset him. Though, even with all those years behind your back, you couldn’t have been sure what his nonchalant shrug really meant. Did he try to play it cool? Did he truly not care?

‘Probably,’ he said at last, shooting a proud smile in your direction when he slid your mug towards you on the kitchen counter. ‘But I’m perfectly fine with just you and the guys in my life. You nag me almost as much as any real girlfriend would,’ Taehyun teased, the corner of your lips twitching because of his claim. As if he hadn’t nagged you just as much!

The truth was, you were oddly fine with just him and your friends in your life, too, but you didn’t want to give Taehyun another reason to make fun of you. Instead, you jumped on the opportunity and got the popcorn out of the microwave and followed him in his room with two huge bowls of snacks in your hands as though everything had been back to normal and your brain hadn’t tried to sabotage your friendship with memories of when just the two of you with him had been more than enough.

You had always thought that many things would change in your dynamics with your friends once one of you found their soulmate, but Beomgyu showed no signs of wanting to spend less time with any of you. He brought Yerim for your programmes more frequently, but they still had their separate lives and friend groups. The lack of dramatic change brought you comfort and shook you up on another level.

‘I told you to wear your gloves, but you never listen,’ your best friend scolded you as soon as you entered your parents’ house and he caught a glimpse at your scarlet skin while you were getting rid of your coats and boots.

‘I would’ve brought them if someone hadn’t been in such a hurry,’ you retorted with a click of your tongue, not blaming him for your carelessness for real. You knew it was your fault, that he had been only joking when he had said he would have left without you if you hadn’t been outside in a minute, but you didn’t feel like agreeing with him, either.

Instead, you nudged his shoulder with an apologetic smile and rushed to the kitchen to make yourself some hot chocolate. You might have already drunk with a big mug at the outdoor ice rink where you had spent the last couple of hours with your friends and Kim Minju, Soobin’s new hoobae at the broadcasting station, but one could have never had too much hot chocolate in winter break. No one could have convinced you of the opposite.

You took two porcelain mugs out of the cabinet, then stood on your tiptoes to put your hands on the chocolate powder as well when Taehyun grabbed it for you and took your red hands in his own right after he placed the unopened box on the counter. You looked up at him with wide eyes, confusion and something akin to gratitude blending in your orbs.

‘Taehyun?’ You breathed when he lifted your cold hands to his mouth and blew hot air on the sensitive skin. You had to gulp down your growing nervousness when his thumbs started to draw nonfigurative patterns on the back of your hands.

‘Hm?’ He mused, not taking his eyes off those red patches that the unforgiving cold had left on your skin.

A rational part of you knew this was nowhere near the most intimate moment you two shared. You had already exchanged forehead kisses in his bed right before you had fallen asleep, you had held him close for hours when his grandparents’ old Golden Retriever had died, and he had also seen you half-naked when you had lost your bikini top in the sea because of a bigger wave. You had grown up together. Your heart shouldn’t have fluttered from this gesture.

But it did.

‘How do you feel about being around me?’ You asked in a whisper. You could tell the exact moment when your question hit home: it was written on his face, in the way he furrowed his eyebrows and slowly lifted his head. His confusion was scary, it ate away at your confidence, but you had no desire to dance back on your words. Not now when the question was finally out in the open. ‘Is it different from when you’re with others?’ You pushed, just a little more.

Taehyun didn’t let go of your hands, but he took them away from his mouth and let them fall between the both of you. His smile was subtle, but it gave you hope.

‘I mean, you smell a lot better than the guys…’

‘That’s not what I meant,’ you cut him off with an unamused scoff, feeling a bit disappointed and very much vulnerable because of how much you wished to hear an answer that resembled your own messy feelings for him. You would have been so freaking happy with a simple yes, too, without any further explanation, that his answer made you feel worse than any no could have done.

Yet, you didn’t pull your hands out of his.

‘I know that’s not what you meant,’ he said in a neutral voice, his nonchalance mocking you, but you had known him even before you had gotten to know what I love you really meant, so you let the silence settle and used it as a shield. You used every passing second to muster up your courage because you knew that if you had let this opportunity slip through your fingers, it might have taken you years to bring the soulmate topic up again.

You stood still in front of the kitchen counter like a moth frozen in amber and couldn’t make your stiff limbs move even when Taehyun let go of you and walked up to the fridge to get the oat milk out of it.

There had been a time when he had openly hated you for using the word love so carelessly, but you had grown up since then. You had matured. You had learned the difference between admiration, obsession, and love - or so you would have liked to believe.

‘I like being around you. More than I like being around the guys. You’re funny and witty and a real pain in the ass in the best way possible. You know the worst sides of me and you’re still here, motivating me to be better, to do better,’ you started while you were still facing his back because this way it was easier. It wasn’t about momentary excitement for you, it was about something much deeper and a lot more permanent. ‘You know the way to comfort me when I’m upset, you know my favorite snacks, my favorite shows, my favorite everything even though I always claim to have no favorites at all…’

The air stuck in your throat when Taehyun turned around. His facial expressions were hard, but the way his knuckles turned white around the carton made it difficult to distinguish his anger from frustration or fear. 

‘Don’t do it. Don’t say–’

‘I love you, Taehyun,’ you confessed nevertheless, telling yourself that it was the right thing to do and that you could have always apologized for your desperation later in case he walked out on you. It was a situation in which both of you were right and wrong, where both of you had your reasons. He had just as much right to be upset with your behavior as much you had to be upset with his refusal. 

You would work through the consequences together when you got there.

But to be able to get anywhere together, Taehyun had to say these words back to you and he was clearly wary of doing so. He avoided your eyes and stumbled a step further from you as though you had pulled the rug from under his feet.

Pushing aside your own worries, you took a step closer to him, then another. You didn’t stop until you were standing right in front of him and then… Then, you took his cheeks in your hands and instead of forcing him to look at you, you fondled his skin with your thumbs.

‘It’ll be fine. We will be fine,’ you whispered, afraid that your usual tone or volume could have scared him away. ‘Please.’

Your heart was pulsing in your entire body: you could feel its presence in your neck and the tip of your fingers, but you didn’t tear your gaze away from him. Instead, you gave him as much time as he needed and let him hide his face in the crook of your neck when his feelings came crashing down on him.

Taehyun’s body was trembling in your embrace like leaves in silly autumn weather; his arms clinged onto your torso like you were the only thing that kept him on the surface when he said:

‘I love you, too.’

Because of your position, Taehyun couldn’t see them, but you did: those small, shimmering butterflies Beomgyu had been talking about. They were lingering around you in an uneven circle, never flying too close, but never leaving your sides, either, until their shine slowly faded away. People said they were the phenomenon one could feel in their tummy when they were around their destined lovers, but you weren’t actually sure. What you were certain of, however, was that they were beautiful and Taehyun needed to see them, too.

Your movements were tentative. You pulled away from the boy as gently as you could while you were still stroking his blade bones to soothe his nerves.

‘Look!’ You said quietly as though you were talking to a child. You couldn’t have been sure how long these creatures would have stayed around you to celebrate your bond with Taehyun, but you didn’t want to rush him. Even if you were scared to death that he would miss them and stay forever blind for the fact that you were meant to be.

When he opened his eyes, you saw your own emotions reflecting in his orbs. He seemed a bit more taken aback than you, but you could tell he was relieved and that he accepted your fate as naturally as you did.

Beomgyu was right after all. Sometimes you just knew because you felt it in your guts: the connection that brought you into and kept you in each other’s life.

The butterflies stayed with you for a day, but neither of your friends could see them, so you didn’t bother to tell them about the subtle change in your relationship. At first, you decided to not talk about it to avoid their teasing; later, it would have felt forced to bring it up out of the blue.

Still, none of your dates with Taehyun felt like a secret. You might have kept the PDA low, but you held each other’s hand during your movie nights with your friends and shared a few chaste kisses here and there when it felt natural.

It was almost ridiculous how no one was suspecting a thing with your weekly outdoor dates until Soobin walked in on you two kissing in the kitchen while you were stress baking at their place the week before your exam period. And it was definitely hilarious how fastly the news spread after he excused himself and rushed into his room.

That night, you didn’t have a chance to worry about your exams, because your friends made sure all hell broke loose once they showed up at the door. It was chaotic - empty pizza boxes and half-empty soju bottles all around in the living room -, but your life had never been more amazing.

You still believed soulmates didn’t make one’s life whole: your life had always been and always would be a whole on its own. But being with Taehyun surely made the experience better.

the end.

[bbnibini]

I saw your tags in the Solomon post about his pact with Asmodeus tbh I agree with you maybe because I played the old game and know how cruel demons were shown at the start before they started overhauling the dialogue.

It wasn't until the brothers realized MC is related to Lilith so they started becoming nicer too. I just think it's unfair to put these characters in a box and expect them to act consistently that's called caricature not characterization but hey it's just my opinion.

Hi there! Solomon seems to be even more of a polarising character than Belphie was even if the latter committed an actual murder while the former hadn't done anything as severe (for now...jk lol).

Joking aside, it's completely valid to like and dislike a character. And I can totally see your point. I guess your opinion on Solomon changes depending on how long you had known him or how far you are in the story. Sometimes it doesn't even have a reason at all and that's valid too. It always amazes me how we interpet scenes so differently. Like for example, the current lesson (lesson 17).

In my eyes, the vulnerability he had shown in the bar/tavern was NOT intended. He had even insisted numerous times that we should forget everything that he said. That it was shameful he had even reacted that way. That he was being emotional. He was not in his right mind and it's shameful and disgusting and he should have never acted like that. This is the same man who said that he couldn't stand the thought of being hated by MC, so I think he must have reacted so strongly because this is a rare chance we see him at his weakest point: his true self. Being out in the open to someone who he wants to be loved by so badly TERRIFIES HIM. A lot of unexplored self-loathing in this man that's for sure. He even said you can call him insane because emotions had never been a factor in his decision making process. He's usually very emotionally intelligent and composed but your involvement. Your existence is beginning to shake his values. Because in the end, that air of confidence. Superiority. Magical prowess are years of building up defences against others from SEEING THE REAL HIM. I really like how the person I RB'd the blog from worded it. He's trying, but he's not perfect. He's human. He's hurt but in the cruel world he lived in all his life, he only had himself to rely on.

And there's something tragically poetic about that. Could his desire to make a pact with Lucifer be because he sees Lucifer as a "what-if" version of himself that had fallen from grace WITH people who loved him and believed in him? That if he gains Lucifer's trust, he would also be healing a part of himself who never had the chance nor the privilege to connect with others? If you recall in one of his SSR cards (the Comiket one forgot the name), the Lord of Corruption is his favourite character (possibly because he relates to the Lord of Corruption the most?), and it's been shown in the game a few times how he and Lucifer are comparable to each other (the Cyber event, TSL quiz battle, etc).

He seems to really be clinging into his humanity despite being isolated and even scorned by humanity itself at some point. Is it a saviour complex? Survivor's guilt? Either way, Solomon had been through a lot and he didn't seem to have a reliable guardian to rely on which is why he was acting like that. A stark contrast to how he and Diavolo were treated by Barbatos when his role in their lives had obvious parallels.

That's what's bothering me too. If Barbatos made Solomon "the way he is", then why is he so hostile towards him compared to the guilt and subservience he exhibits with Diavolo? Is it because like Asmodeus, he was also tricked into a pact(highly doubt this tbh unless that's actually the reason for Barbatos' deep disdain towards him? Because he had once treated Solomon with trust and compassion until it had been broken at some point)? Or could it be something deeper than that? A blight to the Fountain of Knowledge? Some forbidden boundaries that Solomon had crossed?

In my case, I have a considerable amount of background knowledge on him based on his "real life counterpart" before Solmare retconned it :'), and it has guided me surprisingly well (almost too well) in understanding him. King Solomon in the Bible had many enemies. But he is also kind and wise and benevolent and fickle and lustful and scheming. Loved by his people. Even given a blessed name by God. He had 700 wives and 300 concubines. He was a player, a fool in love, but for some reason, despite it all only had one named heir and had only one official wife, and when his actual heir had even taken over the throne, the United Kingdom of Israel was close to collapsing...which is weird because he's supposed to be wise and discerning. He could have totally predicted that from happening by defying God's word but kept on building pagan temples and marrying foreign wives anyway (despite how seemingly loyal he is to Naamah??). It's almost as if he wanted it to fall.

Sorry if I rambled too much lol. For me personally I don't really care if you like him or not. I think it's good they're trying to flesh him out although I have very very mixed feelings about them abandoning what they already worked on for his character in the OG. I do want Solmare to at least give us an option to side with him by our own terms. Not as blindly as the limited options they sometimes offer. (Ex. Okay, I'm on your side but can we please deal with this with more heart and consideration? AND HUMAN DECENCY? Not everyone is out there to get you and not all demonic transactions have to be heartless and calculating. Do you want a hug? :( )

EDIT: Idk why people are still liking this but tl;dr - Solomon was morally grey in the original source/Biblical King Solomon already so him being morally grey here should be no surprise. The entire cast is morally grey (except Luke probably). They're demons. You can hate on a character, but you should not bring it to an extent where you're already hurting a real live person for differing opinions.

[sangoziethesimp]

Borrowed Light | HU TAO X FEM! READER

Requested by @justbaraa12

Twice awake, a stolen start, Sunlit world, a troubled heart. Love's embrace, a shadowed fear, Can joy bloom where death is near?

The weight of a life not lived, a second chance unearned, pressed on your chest like a gravestone. Liyue had been a dream, a year of laughter and found family with Xiangling's fiery cooking, Xingqiu's whispered tales, Chongyun's exorcism mishaps, and Yunjin's unwavering optimism. But the dream morphed into a suffocating nightmare. You'd fallen for Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, a cruel irony considering the constant reminder of your stolen existence. Her morbid jokes and unflinching embrace of death were a twisted mirror to your own torment. How could you love someone who dealt with the cycle of life and death with such nonchalance, when your existence was a glitch in the very fabric of reality?

Your birthday, a day that should have been joyous, arrived draped in a shroud of self-loathing. You couldn't face the party, the forced gaiety a mockery of your churning insides. You fled, tears blurring the vibrant colors of Liyue Harbor into a watercolor mess. A hand, cold as the touch of a spirit, landed on your shoulder. Hu Tao stood behind you, her crimson eyes devoid of their usual playful glint.

"Hiding from a birthday party? Not very festive for someone who shouldn't even be here," she said, her voice flat, devoid of its usual teasing lilt.

The dam you'd constructed within you shattered. Words, barbed with despair, ripped from your throat. "Why am I here, Hu Tao? People die, they don't get a second chance! They don't wake up in a strange land with no memory of before! Why me? Why not them?" Your voice cracked, the unfairness of it all a bitter pill you couldn't swallow.

Hu Tao listened, her face unreadable. The silence stretched, a chasm between you. Then, she spoke, her voice low, a stark contrast to her usual flippancy.

"Death is inevitable, (Y/n). It's the natural order. But your existence, however unnatural, is a fact. Denying it won't change that. You bring a strange light to those around you, a flicker that defies the inevitable. But that light, it flickers because it has no source, no fuel. It's borrowed time, (Y/n)."

Her words were a hammer blow, shattering the fragile hope you'd built. Borrowed time. A flickering candle in a vast, dark cavern. You stared at the ground, a single, choked sob escaping your lips.

"I… I don't know what to do," you whispered, voice thick with despair.

Hu Tao remained silent for a moment, then sighed. "Perhaps," she said, a hint of her usual playfulness returning, "a little walk is in order. We can visit Qingce Village. They say there's a field of glaze lilies in bloom this time of year. Life and death, intertwined, just like us."

Her words were a twisted comfort, a reminder of the cruel paradox you embodied. As you walked with Hu Tao, the harbor receding behind you, a single, horrifying thought bloomed in your chest: perhaps your borrowed life wasn't a gift at all, but a cruel curse, destined to fade, leaving behind only an emptiness that mirrored the abyss you'd come from. The path ahead stretched out, desolate and uncertain, and for the first time, you truly questioned if you had the strength to walk it, even with Hu Tao by your side.

[arcsimper5]

Yaim'ol - Chapter 6 - Returns

yaim'ol - [yai-MOHL] - return, homecoming

Pairing: Sev x F!Jedi OC, Scorch x F!Jedi OC Characters: Delta Squad (Republic Commando), F!Jedi OC Cin Rating: M - Explicit content in later chapters Warnings: Gore, Canon-typical violence, angst, smut (later chapters), descriptions of injury, force osik.

Following on from the end of Republic Commando, Sev and Cin must make their way through the galaxy, overcoming trials and tests in a bid to keep themselves alive long enough to reunite with their squad.

“You sure about this, mesh’la?”

Sev’s tone was stern and low, an indication of his discomfort at the situation they found themselves in.

Being back in his full armour had never felt so foreign, the weight of it no longer a comfort.

He hadn’t repainted it. No point. He doubted he’d be able to hold back if anyone went for Cin. Better they knew who’d taken them down, or who’d died fighting for what little freedom he had left.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding slowly, sounding almost as if she was trying to convince herself, “yeah. I… I need to know.”

It was a risk, she knew that. Returning to Coruscant felt almost like a death sentence, regardless of the codes the wookie delegation had supplied them as cover.

Although their crash on Kashykk was only a few months prior, it had felt so much longer, every day sat waiting, planning, passing like a lifetime.

Now, piloting the tiny shuttle they’d been given, they felt vulnerable as the codes were keyed in upon an automated request from Coruscant control, clearance given almost instantly. It felt… too easy.

The ever present hive of activity swam into view, the traffic lanes of Coruscant flowing as always, painting lines of light across the sky.

It was like nothing had changed at all, and something struck Cin in the chest, her stomach tightening.

“How is everyone still just… going on?” she breathed, Sev shifting next to her, silently wondering the same.

For both of them, the galaxy had fallen apart, their entire lives upended, and yet… life went on. Worlds kept spinning, trade continued, and it felt so unfair.

“Guess for most people, Empire or Republic, nothing really changed,” he huffed, scanning the skyline. It felt so familiar, bar one thing. He spotted it before Cin, gritting his teeth when he saw her eyes lock onto the area the Jedi Temple had once stood.

He heard her gasp as they passed in clear view of the now ruined buildings, the giant halls nothing more than a pile of rubble now, surrounded by skycranes, being cleared away.

“It’s really gone,” she murmured, breath hitching as she tried to process what she was seeing, “the halls, the chambers, the archives…”

Her blood ran cold as she turned back to Sev, eyes wide and tear rimmed.

“Sev… The archives held holocrons,” she explained quickly, voice quiet, almost as if she was scared someone would hear, “containing the names and home planets of every Jedi, and not just the ones who were at the temple… They have the names of every Force sensitive child in the known galaxy, the ones who were to become Jedi recruits…”

Cold realisation hit them both as Sev growled, shaking his head.

“What we’re doing is dangerous enough, mesh’la. We need to focus on the plan. If it goes well, if we can get in and out undetected, there might be a chance, but…”

He hated himself as she turned away with a frown. She knew he was right, but it didn’t sting any less. Logic seemed to go out the window these days though, and Cin cursed her lack of control. 

She felt herself slipping, giving into emotion more and more since the Order went out, and it was troubling her on a level she couldn’t explain to Sev.

“I know, I know,” she muttered, a bitter tone in her voice she didn’t quite catch in time before it slipped out. Heaving a sigh, Sev placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Can’t save the galaxy all at once, ner kar’ta,” he reminded her, something she’d said to him once, on a particularly difficult mission gone wrong. Smiling softly, she felt a little lighter, grateful for his presence at her side as she lifted her own hand to cover his, leaning into his hold.

“I don’t tell you how much I love you enough,” she murmured, chuckling as Sev’s face went bright red, his expression still stern as he fought a smile, shaking his head and turning back to put his bucket on.

“Ner cyare,” he all but whispered back, her smile widening before it faded as their docking port came into view, the large wings of the ship automatically folding up against the sides as they were brought down by the auto-landing system. “You good?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she sighed, releasing the controls and grabbing her lightsaber, clipping it onto the rear clips of her belt, out of sight.

She knew it was dangerous to be carrying it, that it would identify her in an instant, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it, of being without it, the last piece of a life she’s lost she had left.

Swallowing hard, she grabbed the huge grey cloak Tarful had gifted her before they left, the delicate silver embroidery creating sweeping images of the trees of Kashyyyk.

“Plan?” Sev prompted as the airlock hissed, pressure from the systems releasing while the door lowered, the stale, recycled air of Coruscant hitting her like a speeder bike.

“Level 1345,” she recited, drawing her hood up over her head as she steeled herself to take her first steps onto an Imperial Coruscant, “find the ventilation ducts to the academy, climb them and infiltrate the facility.”

“Then?”

“Find a console, use the generic trooper codes to find the others, download the location onto a data spike and leave the same way we came in.”

Sev nodded in approval, letting out a soft huff of laughter, one that drew him a scathing look from Cin.

“What?” she demanded, a little hurt by his reaction.

“Boss is gonna be proud as kriff of you. You know that?” he murmured, grinning under his helmet as Cin flushed brightly, shaking her head.

“You can tell him all about it when we get him back,” she grumbled, pulling her cloak tightly around her as she began to descend the ramp into the docking bay, keeping her senses open with the Force.

But even with her senses attuned, the anxiety pulsing through her blinded her to the set of dark eyes watching as they exited the ship, ones that followed their progress long after they entered the elevator to the lower levels.

*-*-*

“Hurry up, will you?”

“I’m going as fast as I can.”

“Well go faster!”

“Not the first time you’ve asked that of me.”

“Sev, I swear to the Maker…”

In another life, they might have been laughing as Sev struggled with the latches on the ventilation shaft, the metal tight and rusted from years of neglect.

They were pressed into a dingy alley in the lower levels of Coruscant, the skitter of rats and tookas and the hum of electricity filled the humid air, the bustle of homes and business of various levels of disrepute operating mere yards away covering what little noise they were making.

Still, Cin continued to glance up and down the alleyway as she leant against the wall behind her, trying not to draw attention as she kept watch, hissing back to Sev.

“I thought you were supposed to be a Commando. How hard is a vent cover?”

“Not exactly covered in basic training,” Sev grunted in response, the irritation in his modulated voice clear.

With a screech, the cover finally moved, Cin wincing at the sound, looking up and down the alley, making sure they hadn’t drawn any unwanted attention.

“Got it!” Sev chuckled triumphantly, lifting the huge cover behind some of the bins a little further down, keeping it out of sight.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Cin retorted sharply, rolling her eyes, “and half of the level, most likely. We need to move.”

“You worry too much,” Sev smirked, trying to placate her, the anxiety in her voice impossible to miss.

“And you don’t worry enough,” she chastised him, “you know what we’re risking here.”

“I do,” he replied, serious now as he stared down at her, instinct making him reach up and remove his bucket as she shuffled around, looking up into the pipe.

“Gonna be a tight fit,” she murmured, Sev snorting softly, expression apologetic when she turned round, glaring at him. 

“Just trying to lighten the mood,” he offered, reaching out a hand and wrapping it around her waist, pulling her close, “and trying to remind myself that being terrified isn’t going to help us.”

Cin sighed, dropping her head to his chest for a moment, hesitation taking over.

“Maybe this is a bad idea,” she whispered against his neck, “maybe there’s another way…”

“There probably is,” Sev soothed her, gloved fingers cording through her hair, “but it would take a lot longer. Who knows if they’re even together any more? The faster we move, the faster we’re all back together.”

Something in his tone caught Cin by surprise, the flecks of emotion showing through as he spoke. Through all of this, she’d failed to consider just how hard Sev was finding this, being separated from his batchmates.

They’d been together since birth, raised together on Kamino. They’d shared meals, bunks, missions, even her. They did everything together. To be alone after all those years…

Reaching up, she cupped his cheek, tilting his head down enough to brush her lips over his gently, the promise of her return unspoken.

“It’ll be just like Corellia,” she smiled softly, his lips lilting with the memory, “in and out, no-one will even notice.”

“Maybe we can celebrate the way we did then too,” Sev chuckled, glad for the tiny sliver of normality that passed between them, his heart still hammering away in his chest.

“Deal,” she grinned, leaning up to kiss him once more before she turned back to the vent, drawing in a steadying breath. “Okay, Commando. Give me a boost,” she ordered playfully, Sev letting out a low chuckle.

“Sir, yes Sir,” he smirked, bending down on one knee and placing his hands over it. Within seconds, she’d climbed onto him and was helped up into the vents, the sounds of her movement fading quickly.

“Be safe, mesh’la,” Sev murmured after her, reaching for his helmet and replacing it quickly, beginning his watch.

[simp4aegon]

GOLDEN HOUR

Aemond Targaryen x Morningstar!Oc /reader

Chapter One : The Angel, Her Misery, His Lover.

Warnings: Violence, Blood, NSFW, Romantic shit.

You can imagine yourself as Lilith well she is you and your time travel has gone right, or better for your happiness that you can’t find in the modern world where you lived. This is a crossover between Lucifer and HOTD.

Legends said that angels are made to protect God's creations, that they are god's favorite children.

You see them as the most beautiful thing, for they are the first one to live, The witness of his creations.

Wings, pair that symbolize power and freedom, soft to the touch but as sharp as blades that protected them.

Some chose to continue serving their God, those who stayed in light, some chose to go join the other side, known as the fallen and the neutral ones, those who chose life, who chose to love.

They have the power of light but one has the power of time and reality, and that angel is special to her kind.

Victoria was made up by a dude,

girl you wouldn't believe she's an old man who lives in Ohio,

I know victoria's secret, cashing in body issues.

In the modern day of 2022 Princess Lilith, Daughter of Lucifer Morningstar remembers how she argued with her father two days ago.

While she sings on stage as an internationally famous pop star, she realizes that her father wasn't there, to support her or to watch, her getting ready for later's event.

Wanting to prove her father wrong about her grandfather's creations; humans, Her life as a princess in the modern world of Los Angeles doesn't really please her.

“Daddy, You never paid attention to me! You never listened, you only listened to them to... to Trixie and Chloe, this is unfair, I am your blood, your flesh, Am I not?”

Lilith yelled as she threw her arms in frustration, as she walks towards her father in his throne of darkness. she then walks back and forth with her Dark Brown hair flowing in wind.

Lucifer's army, Knights of hell watched as she yelled at her father, something only she can do, or else those who try will suffer a fate worst that dying in the lake of lava.

Like what the princess called.

“Enough of this nonsense Lilith! There is no love for us, Love makes us vulnerable to anything, Do your things find a man to play with, Travel and stop bothering me for there are more important things that I have to do.”

Lucifer then looked at his daughter’s reaction.

"Important? Wedding plans? You're a hypocrite, you're a fucking hypocrite dad! you don't want me to find love but here you are marrying a damn mortal, admit it, I am the mistake you wish you never committed, you kept on telling me that I am not entitled of a man, a child, you rid me of the world, you rid me a chance of a family and now you're building one without me."

A reaction he never expected, He doesn’t understand why she craved love when she can have anything she wanted, He gave her everything she wanted.

"Didn't I gave you a career? You're a successful popstar! I gave you everything every material whims, give me a chance to find my happiness." He's selfish, egoistic fucker.

"What do you know about love dad?" Lilith whispers.

"What do you know? You're just a kid." Lucifer tried keeping his cool.

“You wouldn’t say that there is no love for me if I have my mom with me, you never searched for Mom, now you'll marry her! You promised it's you and me now her? HER? And her kid?.” With that Lilith roared louder.

Lucifer now understands his Dad, Lilith mirrored some parts of him that he now hated, That she became a rebel, but there are good parts, To Lucifer, she wanted to live.

That he was a hypocrite for denying his daughter and feeding her with information he now supports and wants.

"Lilith! I did not raise you, to talk like that toward Chloe! You'll refer to her as your mother and Trixie as your younger sister, Are we clear?. What I had for Chloe is genuine love." Lucifer slapped Lilith across the face and then harshly grabbed her shoulder.

"What about my mother? WHAT ABOUT ME?!" Lilith asked as she touches her right cheek.

That triggered something, it made those Fire opal eyes glow, something that shocked Lucifer.

"I'm sor-" Lucifer attempts as his eyes go soft.

"You did not raise me, grampa raised me, Not you not Chloe not anyone! You don't get to touch me like that!" Those fire opal eyes glowed while her selcra turned black, it scared Lucifer.

She once wants to find something he avoids to help him realize, Something that he's afraid of, Like what he does to Chloe, Chloe Decker.

She kinda regrets the fact that it it turns out the way she doesn't intended to.

But he's hypocrite, Now he's getting married, to her.

'Why does she wants to be a human? Or does she? She doesn’t need love, She needs me.' Lucifer thought to himself those words.

Lilith wasn’t spoiled, Lilith just understands what she wants and that is to love, Lilith can’t find love in the modern world where she lived for almost two billion years of her existence.

With no lust for the throne where she’s meant to torment people, Lilith figured out that needed a man, to love, to cherish as humans do. Lilith wanted a family, not temporary happiness her father calls a One Night Stand.

Wanting to prove that her father's a hypocrite, to tell him everyday.

She snaps from those thoughts, While singing her songs her tears slowly fell, she realized what she wanted. With those tears, in an instant, it rained with loud thunderstorms, a reason for her to leave with the guards protecting her.

Other people tried to take pictures with her but failed.

But a man gave her a white handkerchief, which she took but never got a glimpse of his face, due to bodyguard blocking her of the view.

"Thank you."

_

Lilith stood there with bitter laughing, drinking her fifth glass of wine and listening as people gave their wishes to Mr. and Mrs. Morningstar.

She felt so fucking alone in this world.

Lilith tried not to create a commotion with her emotions, she remembers she's higher that the angels in the reception area.

You're a fucking seraphim.

"You okay?" Her uncle Amanedee asked giving her a slice of lemon cake which she politely refuses, Same with Castiel and Gabriel who gave her foods.

"I hope you and mom a happy life together." Trixie smiled as she gives the microphone to her new step sister.

Lilith refuses but Maze gave her a nudge and a gentle smile. With that Lilith took the mic and went on stage holding her eight glass of wine.

"To the both of you, Congratulations, live your lives to the fullest starting this night without any problems or...." Lilith didn't finish, Amandiel was quick to pick up those cryptic message his niece left the moment she passed the mic to him then walked out of the reception.

God, her grandfather gave him a sad look, His first grandchild, feels sad, in exchange of his favorite son's happiness.

He can't read her, No one can, Just like his sister.

Lilith went back to her hotel, headed to her bathroom as she filled her gigantic tub with ice as she pointed her finger at the candles where it lits themselves. She stared at the tv screen which showed nothing but static.

Lilith wished to prove him wrong, that angels and demons are entitled to love just like humans, that she too is entitled like him to Chloe.

That it's not only about duty to protect her Grandfather's creation but to also love them.

“Sanguis animæ meæ suscipe me ad fata mea, sanguis cordis mei, salus mea et judicium meum.”

Lilith chanted those words while crying as she soak herself, and let the water consume her, to wash away her worries and to bring excitement to her journey.

Wanting to forget that she doesn't have a place here anymore, That her father has his new family, with new baby on the way with Chloe.

Her anger, her sadness, her pain, her grieve, her longing for a mother she never met.

A mother who's name she never knew.

The mother who left her the moment she was born.

The lights flicker and died but the fire from the candle remained still. Thunder roars at the sky as lightning strikes in the darkness.

Lilith doesn’t care if she needs to create a new world or travel with time or reality, or various timelines or even worlds, only to find her love.

'If Wanda Maximoff can make herself happy, so am I' Lilith smirks as she let the water consume her.

The water had it's tint of red violet color the moment she sank.

_

"Baby? Can we talk? I'm so sor-" Lucifer said behind the door but then felt that there's something wrong, he then kicked the door open.

The young girl vanished the moment the fire of her candles died, Comes her father when walked into her hotel's master bathroom, With no signs of the princess of hell.

It made him worry, he felt the guilt.

That made him sob to his friend Maze, To help him with his daughter whom he loved.

"She's missing, Maze she's missing, call Chloe, my daughter is missing," Lucifer yelled at his friend beside him, With visible worries written on his face.

"Where is she Lucifer, where did she go?" Maze responded as she kneels beside the bath tub and touched the water.

She can't sense anything, Lilith is not only prominent when it comes to using her angelic grace but also in her demonic ones that she uses when only in need.

They forgot that she was the mother of witches, Maze knew that Lilith wanted to empower women, so she gave them blessings against men who tried to violate them.

God was against it at first but agreed.

"I don't know, I think she performed a ritual, She went somewhere else, I yelled at her earlier, two or three days ago, slapped her accross the face and I didn't mean it, I wanted to say sorry but when I came inside her room she was missing." Lucifer facepalmed as he pinches his nose bridge.

"You do know that she has a concert this month right?" Eve took her to butt in.

"You're fucking concerned about the concert when she's missing?" Maze rolled her eyes.

"And she's missing, Great." Lilith is a popstar in 2022, A well-known popstar who's missing.

"And you slapped my granddaughter Samael? Did I raise you to be like that? I took your burden of raising her, the only thing I ask for is your love and compassion" God calmly placed a hand on his shoulder

"Stop putting the blaming only on me, only if you didn't lock her away, we could've raised her." God, their father was disappointed who walked away in search of his favorite granddaughter.

_

A warm peaceful day in King’s Landing was disturbed when King Viserys woke up in a good health, His illness was cured and when he stands up from the bed, He looked in the mirror and then at his hand and face, and hair.

By the Gods, His youth and strength were restored so that he doesn't need a cane to walk.

King Viserys thanked the Gods for it and prayed that this isn't a dream and this isn't temporary, That when he woke up the next day, He'll still be healthy and strong.

Even going to the extent of sacrificing a live animal as his form of thanking God or anyone who did that to him.

It shocked the maidens and his wife Queen Alicent who suggest that it was a result of witchery but King Viserys dismisses the vile rumors and sees it as a blessing by the Gods, he wanted to test the limits when he and Queen Alicent heard the news of a young woman found floating in the bodies of water by the fishermen.

They wanted to see the young woman that they found.

Prince Aegon alongside his brother Prince Aemond watched as their people carried the said girl and wrapped her with towels, She was beautiful in his eyes.

She was worth the reason for him to stop training at the moment with Ser Criston Cole.

“Nice tits.” The prince whisperer when he earned a nudge from his brother who was younger than him, He saw how focused Aemond's eyes to her.

Aemond's eye inspected the beauty. "Bring her to Reds' keep, we’ll question her once she wakes up, That woman might be sent to cause damage to us," Aemond ordered Ser Criston Cole as they brought her to the Castle carried by the knight.

"Look at her breast brother, you can't lie that she doesn't arouse you." Aegon teased Aemond who swallows thickly.

She looked like a threat but deep inside he felt something different while watching her, She was wearing a white nightgown with her nipples visible due to being soaked.

“Someone’s lusting over the girl, Don't worry I do too, I can't wait for her to wake up, see what that cunt does.”

Aegon laughed as he followed the knight and Aemond followed him back, He admits he can’t wait to hear her whereabouts but was more excited about bedding her.

“I won’t fall for a witch.” Aemond defends himself, he swallowed again.

He admits she's beautiful with those porcelain-like skin, Red lips like blood, and hair as dark as ravens.

She reassembles the princess in their bedtime stories, Snow white with a thin waist and large breasts.

“Who says she’s a witch then? Maybe she was sent by the Gods to bring pleasure to us, can't wait to deflower her sweet cunt brother.” Aemond gave him a side eye, Annoyed with his brother's intentions.

“You won’t touch her, witch or not.” There he left his brother and walked faster, He somehow regret calling her a witch, for judging her.

Maybe she's just pretty.

He knows one thing; He won't let Aegon stip her honor.

_

Walking back and forth, King Viserys tries to think of a reason behind this, This is the first time they had a floating body of a woman in the Kings landing,

“Poor little girl, Who would do such a horrible thing.” Alicent pitied as she caresses the young girl's wet hair and used a dry towel to carefully dry its hair.

“Born between the light and darkness shall she choose the light. Love and affection is the desire, A shining beauty in the stars that glow to the darkness.”

Helaena whispers in the corner of Aemond’s chamber while playing with a butterfly with broken wings that made Alicent and Aemond look.

The Queen ordered her maids to dry and changed the girl's clothes, She’s still unconscious so they do not know things about her, who she is, or how she got there.

“I will order an execution for the one responsible for this poor girl's torment the moment I heard details of it.” King Viserys pitied the young girl as he sat beside her and gently caressed her hair.

He reminded her of when Rhaenyra, His favorite when was a young girl and decided that she is welcomed to their homeland.

“Mother, Aemond had a theory that it was a punishment, Killing such a beauty. That she’s a witch of their homeland or some whore.” Alicent looked at her son Aegon as she held the young girl’s hand which is cold, She ordered more wood for the fireplace to keep the girl warm.

“Aemond? You shouldn’t throw vile accusations without the truth, does this looks like a witch to you?” King Viserys showed his visible disappointment with his son Aemond.

Aegon then smirks at Aemond while he's drinking his wine.

“What makes you think of that Aemond?” Alicent asked.

“Her unnatural beautiful mother, I mean look at her face and body, witches have smaller waists or maybe she was sent by other kingdoms to do harm to us, To father.”

Aemond defended himself while looking at the sleeping lady, He took off his coat to wrap it around her.

“See Aemond, Do not judge a beautiful girl like her. If you feel an attraction, admit it, There’s no need to throw vile accusations, Just wait till she wakes up, you'll see what that mouth can do.” Aegon teased, as he keep on teasing his brother with dirty jokes.

Aegon too is enticed by her beauty.

Alicent gave his son Aegon a firm look, A glare, for speaking those words in the presence of the king. She knew what Aegon meant and his reason to defend the young girl is to bed her.

Dirty intentions.

“And she’s not a tool of your desire brother, I admit I did call her a witch but not a whore, I demand she stay here with me.” Aemond gave him a stern look again, He knows what he wants with the witch, and he won’t let that happen.

“I shall return to my throne, Aemond keep an eye on her, Alicent order the maids to prepare food once the girl wakes up, Aegon you’ll order other people of our kingdom about the girl, understand? Let your brother stay here alone. Helaena you're free to stay with the girl too if you'd like.” Aegon nodded at his King's father, He wanted to be the one to take care of the girl.

"Hmm," Aemond said in response.

King Viserys wanted to make sure that the girl feels welcome, To feel at home at least, it reminded him of when Rhaenyra was a young girl, she was pure and good, He didn’t want to accuse the girl of anything like his son Aemond and Aegon.

With his duties, Aemond chose to follow the king’s commands to watch the girl while everyone leaves.

"You are the fruit of light and darkness, New bringer of light to my-." Helaena smiled at her new friend and took off her emerald ring to place it on the sleeping girl's finger.

Aemond listened, as his sister kept on calling the girl 'Darkness'

"You look more pretty with the ring, wake up so we can be friends." Helaena hugged the sleeping girl.

"What do you mean by darkness?" Aemond had enough of the name-calling and decided what her riddles meant. "You don't know?" Helaena asked in surprise.

Before Aemond could reply Helaena left his chamber in a such rush that left him with the girl. Aemond locked the doors from his chamber, He then sat on the tool beside the bed.

The peach garment that belonged to Helaena suited her better with her dark hair, He held her hand which is ice cold, He placed a light kiss on it and whispered.

"I'm sorry for accusing you of being a witch my lady, maybe you are a siren, Because we found you on our lake." Aemond smiled to himself as he watches the girl sleep with her steady breathing.

He'll make her his wife one way or another.

"I promise to protect you, To be a loving husband to you and you only." He leaned closer to place a kiss on her cold lips and then forehead.

He can't deny the attraction, What caught his attention was the white and gold feather from her white nightgown that he kept.

It was a very sharp, blade-like feather that cut through his thumb that suddenly healed, He'll keep it as a lucky charm, some kind of a talisman.

"Witch or not, I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice." He kissed her knuckles again.

(LISTEN TO INFINITY)

[savetooru]

it might as well be you

read through pj's blog entry "please let me know" recently and wanted to write a quick post in response!*

the brief answer would be that i live for other people. long one from here: when the future feels bleak, i keep going because i imagine someone could maybe benefit from my sticking it out at some point. ignoring the fact that i sound like a walking savior complex — it's more like, there are too many moving parts to write off. no matter how average or ordinary you feel, nobody else is going to know what you know the way you know it. nobody is going to do the same things you do, whether you achieve your goals or not. that you spend time reflecting on your place in the world at all means you're probably doing your best at living, and chances are you're gonna move somebody somewhere because of it. who's to say that the terrible essay you wrote in fifth grade isn't resting snugly in a teacher's drawer as a source of inspiration. that the smile you flashed the employee at the mall didn't keep 'em on their feet for the rest of their shift. that the next person would have tipped as well, or fallen as hard, or scraped their knees as badly. the world is big and daunting and unfair. it is also the distance from one withered palm to another. i'm sure i've only made it so far because i've been pulled along and supported by countless others, so it's only fair to assume i could be a tether for somebody else. unfortunately we are all special and irreplaceable and burdened with no conceivable means of grasping the degree to which we are or will become either of these things, so to me — it just kinda feels like the safest bet is to keep moving forward.

all that said, i hope things ease up on your end so you can do whatever you want at your own pace! i believe in you!!!!!

title pulled from dimension 20’s starstruck odyssey campaign. full quote goes: “it’s a tough galaxy out there, but somebody’s gotta live in it... it might as well be you.” *apologies for not replying via guestbook or email, by the way— i've been a little awkward and terrible at keeping up with 1-to-1 correspondence lately ><

[icharchivist]

I believe that Belial is so pissy at Seox because Seox (also) has blood on his hands, but he was allowed a fresh start and to have loving friends and family and, well, a redemption

Belial might not think that's possible for him, so he's projecting on the poor catboy

All his lines towards him in Versus carry this sense of "you're no better than me, you're a monster too, let's drag out the darkness inside you"

So really, he's jealous of our big bro for getting a second chance

oh that makes a tone of sense.

I do also think that Belial just, reads people's greatest insecurities, and Seox does in fact consider himself a monster who shouldn't be allowed any type of redemption because of the blood on his hands.

so out of all the things Belial could actually hurt Seox about, it's using this, regardless of how much Belial relates to it. It is the one thing Seox is the most vulnerable about, and while Seox might carry on the fight without problem (like a killing machine, one would say), this could create doubt in his mind and have him set distance with MC because he believes Belial's words. so even if Belial doesn't win this physical fight, he can ruin Seox's life in a much more insidious way.

Granted i actually believe that, especially post Seeds of Redemption, he knows now that MC would not let go of him, no matter what... but it doesn't change that this pain Belial would bring up would at least have him pause.

so i do think Belial mostly attack him here because it is Seox's one weakness.

however, if we want to read that Belial is jealous, i think it works as well because, even a tiny bit, Belial believes he's too far gone in his own darkness to even have a chance at redemption -

and i think if Belial wasn't fully aware of what would become of the Fallen Angels during the Avatar project, he could actually, well, project on Seox on this one. Because it would mean both of them were led to become the instrument of mass suffering along people that belonged with them in some way, mainly in their attempts to satisfy the needs of their maker. And both of them would have seen the blood on their hands and considered themselves too rotten, too irredeemable.

And then Belial doubled down on it, on "if i'm to be the monster, then i shall be the monster", while Seox took it more as "even if there is no way for me to ever pay for my crime, all i can do is make sure that if i'm still alive, i use this life to lessen the pain in this world, and it will never have me atone for my sins, but it's all i can do".

And with the way Belial would be more defeatist, just thinking that its his duty, his fate to be the monster by the end of it all... this type of things would piss him off. It's so righteous, so unfair. Why is he not allowed to move on, but this guy is? (because you chose that, Belial).

and Belial convinced himself that by being the monster, he is indeed going to stay alone all of his life, and instead he sees that Seox, who lives with a guilt Belial denies for himself, still somehow managed to find love all around him.

Seox would be ultimately the proof that Belial could have chosen differently and all the things Belial convinced himself were just part of the course due to his nature, were actually all the choices he made to make himself more miserable.

So instead of putting himself back in question, it's Seox's resolve he'll put back in question.

To prove to him, and to himself, that this sort of darkness can't lead to a happy future.

because if it does, then Belial would really have destroyed himself for nothing.

[pupandangelscoffee]

Three makes a family

Eddie Diaz x Evan "Buck" Buckley x Female reader

Genre: mostly fluff, slight angst in the middle

TW: mentions of alcohol, arguing

Word count: slightly over 3K

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

Buck really loved Carla and he knew that Eddie did too, especially since Chris always seemed to happy around her. That is why he did not understand why Eddie chose to hire a babysitter for Chris, clearly Carla could do the babysitting. Eddie tried explaining that he wanted Carla to be able to have some days off, too. After all, it can be exhausting to babysit a very energetic kid all day.

Even if Buck does not understand Eddie’s motivations, he is now sitting in the older male’s living room and waiting for the doorbell to ring, already painting a picture of the babysitter in his head. She probably looks like an evil witch with gray hair and lots of wrinkles on her face, making her seem friendly despite her secretly scaring children by telling them she would eat them. Though as soon as the doorbell rings, Chris starts racing his dad to the door, leaving a very confused Buck behind. “Why did his little buddy seem so excited to see the new babysitter? Why was his little buddy more excited to see his babysitter than he was when Buck came over earlier?? This just feels unfair!” Buck concludes in his head, getting up and walking to the kitchen to grab himself a drink. From his place he can hear the excited yells from Chris, a small smile immediately creeping on his face though dropping almost instantly when he remembers that he wasn’t the one making Chris that happy.

After taking another deep breath, he makes his way over to the living room very steadily, ready to assess you. However, as soon as he lays eyes on you, he chokes up and trips over his own feet, crashing into the small table on the side and dropping his glass. Startled by the sound, Chris, Eddie and you turn around to face him, you immediately jumping up and helping the young firefighter with the broken glass. “You didn’t tell me that I have to babysit two kids, Eds” you state, earning laughter from Chris and Eddie and an embarrassed look from Buck. “You must be Buck, right? Chris has told me a lot about you” you tell the embarrassed man, who is still in shock from seeing your beauty up close. Chuckling softly, you grab the shards of broken glass from his hands before heading to the kitchen to get a towel and throw the shards away.

“So, what do you think?” Eddie asks Buck softly while you are out of the room, however, he does not get a response as Buck simply continues staring at the spot you were sitting a moment ago. Chris slowly gets up and hugs Buck, thinking that the firefighter got hurt when he tripped, though Eddie quickly understood what was going on and shakes his head. Seems like Buck 1.0 still existed somewhere in his younger friend, despite everyone telling him that Buck was no longer like that. Perhaps he should talk to Maddie about this, needing someone’s opinion, that actually knew Buck as well as he did. Though before he has the chance to excuse himself, you are back in the living room and making your way over to Chris. “Ready for a fun day, Chris?” you ask him with a smile playing on your lips to which Chris eagerly nods and allows you to pick him up. “I will bring him home at 8 tonight, alright Eds?” you state, turning to look at the older male. “Yeah, 8 sounds perfect. I will see you tonight.” He replies, smiling at you and walking over to press a kiss goodbye onto Chris’s forehead.

As soon as you and Chris are gone, he gets another cup of water and pours it over Buck’s head, successfully pulling him out of his trance. “Do not even think about sleeping with Y/N, Evan.” He states lowly, giving the younger firefighter a glare while Buck just looks up at him sheepishly. “In my defense, you forgot to mention that the new babysitter was smoking hot. A warning would have been nice.” He grumbles as he shakes his head, sending water droplets flying everywhere before getting up and dropping on to the couch with a small groan. The response left Eddie frowning, sure, he was aware that you were attractive and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t attracted to you, especially after seeing how much Chris adores you. However, that did not lessen the blow of Buck’s blunt response. Perhaps that was why he was fearing that Buck 1.0 was back, he didn’t want you to be scared off purely because his best friend was incapable of keeping his dick in his pants. “Just try not to fuck her immediately when you get her alone, please. Chris really likes her.” Eddie nearly begs, deciding it was better that he doesn’t add that he likes you too. Buck sighs and nods, pouting a bit. Though for his little buddy, he would definitely try not to get into her pants. After all, he didn’t want Chris to hate him, especially if it was because he couldn’t control himself around you. However, this wasn’t going to stop him from teasing Eddie by flirting with you, because despite the older man trying to hide it, he could tell that Eddie had a thing for you as well.

8 comes quicker than the two males expect and they are slightly startled from their cuddled position when they hear the door opening. Glancing out into the hallway, they spot you carrying a sleeping Chris into his room, unknowingly causing both of the males to smile. Soon enough, you walk into the living room and whisper “he is asleep now and probably won’t be waking up any time soon. We had a lot of fun” before grabbing your bag that you placed on the table in the hallway on your way in. It was clear that you were about to leave, so Buck jumps up and grabs your hand, putting on his best kicked puppy expression. “Why don’t you stay for a bit longer? We have some wine in the fridge and I will drop you off at your place later, I wouldn’t feel right letting a pretty lady like yourself be outside all by yourself.” He states softly, pouting a bit in hopes that it would convince you to stay. You glance between him and his friend, who was eagerly nodding, before sighing and setting down your bag. “Fine, I’ll stay for a bit. But only if you have anything to eat that isn’t almost pure sugar.” You agree, your request causing the older male to jump into motion and quickly rushing into the kitchen to put a pizza in the oven for you. Meanwhile, Buck leads you back to the couch, not letting go of your hand until you pull it away.

Somehow you end up being squished between the two men, a glass of wine in your hand and the pizza on the table. After some small arguing, they decided to just let you choose the movie, so now they had to suffer through one of your favorite horror movies. While you sit there not even flinching, Buck is absolutely terrified and unsure whether he should feel impressed by the fact that you do not mind horror movies or scared that you clearly do not cringe at the big amounts of blood spattering all over the screen. On the other side, Eddie has managed to wrap his arm around your shoulder, with the excuse that he feels safer if he knows that you and Buck are safe and within his reach. He is definitely impressed by your ability to keep a straight face at the movie, though definitely not as surprised as Buck, especially because he knew about your background.

Soon enough the first movie is finished, then a second one, then a third and the next thing you know, you wake up to the smell of bacon in a bed that was most certainly not yours. Looking down at yourself, you realize that the shirt you are wearing is also not yours, leaving you confused for a moment because you do not recall getting changed the previous night. Sighing, you quickly come to the conclusion that one of the two men must have changed you. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you make your way into the kitchen, where you are greeted by the sight of a small family breakfast with Buck, Eddie and Chris. Deep inside your heart, you wish to wake up to that small family every morning, though that wish quickly gets locked up and hidden from the world as you make your way to the coffee machine to get a cup. Chris is the first of the three to react to your presence, calling out your nickname before grinning brightly at you. “Good morning, little one. Did you help make breakfast?” You ask, sitting down on the counter to smile at the nodding boy. “Yeah!! Daddy gave me instructions!” He explains with an excited tone before glancing at the clock and frowning. “Can you convince dad to let me stay at home today?” He asks you with a hushed tone, causing you to giggle and shake your head, whispering back “sorry, but I am sure that the captain would not enjoy you missing your big day in school. Or how else is your group supposed to present the fantastic poem you wrote?”. Chris tilts his head before thinking for a moment. “Fair after school?” he tries to negotiate, causing you to giggle again before nodding. “Sure thing, buddy. Now go brush your teeth and I will drive you to school, okay?” “Okay, mommy!” Chris replies before rushing off to brush his teeth, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind as his words sink into all of you.

Eddie and Buck are watching your interaction with Chris, the sound of your giggles making the smile without realizing it. Surely, you must have noticed that they changed you into something more comfortable last night after you had fallen asleep on Eddie’s chest. However, it just felt natural to the two males to take care of you and make you breakfast, Chris being a bit help. Though when Chris calls you mommy, they freeze and Buck even chokes on his piece of the pancake. They certainly did not expect that Chris was that fond of you, though Eddie is slightly less surprised than Buck, thinking about the countless times that Chris had asked for you to come over. Still, the sudden name caused his movement to halt as well, his brain going haywire, trying to figure out if Chris had somehow found out about his attraction for you and that is why he felt so comfortable with calling you mommy. Or perhaps it was simply because the men had decided to pull one of Eddie’s shirt on you yesterday and that is what made it seem like you two were dating. Or was it the couple of times he had invited you out with Chris and him for dinner? His train of thought is quickly broken though, when Chris appears in the kitchen and says goodbye to the two men, calling Buck dad and Eddie daddy before rushing off to your car. Once again you three are left alone in the kitchen, the silence deafening. “Drive safely, okay?” Buck manages to mutter out, making you nod. Glancing between the two men, you decide to peck their cheeks before rushing out after Chris, grabbing your bag in the process to drive him to the school.

When you return to Eddie’s house, you can already hear the yelling from the outside. Slowly making your way into the house, you can finally understand what the two were arguing about. You. From what you gathered, Eddie was upset with Buck for flirting with you while Buck was countering that obviously Eddie was too chicken to do something about his feelings for you. Avoiding nearly being hit by a vase that comes flying your way, you clear your throat causing the fight to die down and both men to turn to you. “I- uh…” Eddie starts, though you raise your hand to silence him before grabbing the stuff you had left on the couch. “Once you two grow up and handle this like actual adults, then you can call me.” You state before walking out of the house and slamming the door shut behind you, leaving the two men dumbfounded and broken.

Two months. It takes two months of Chris sulking, Bobby scolding them and roughly 5 meetings with Maddie before they can finally face each other again. Yet whenever they stare at your number, they chicken out, too afraid to call you. You had been right, they were acting like two children throwing tantrums, build on the unspoken feelings between them. But now that they were dating steadily and currently curled up together on the couch, they finally decide to call you up. However, much to their distaste, a man answers your phone and for a moment they believe they lost any chance with you, if there even was one to begin with. “Hello? Are you still there?” The man on the phone asks, causing Eddie to nod and reply with a small “yeah”. A hum is heard from the other side of the line before they hear “what do you want from my sister?”. Never in their life did the duo think that hearing such a question would be such a relief. Buck reacts quicker than Eddie and explains the situation, what has happened and why they were calling now. Another hum is audible before some commotion can be heard and then they hear your voice, a sense of happiness washing over them. For whatever reason, you actually agree to meet with them after your work, giving them the address of your workplace.

Your shift ends in 10 minutes when Buck and Eddie walk into the club where you were working, quickly spotting you behind the bar, deciding that your outfit was definitely too short for their liking. Holding on to Eddie’s hand tightly, Buck weasels his way through the crowd and stops right before you at the bar, smiling softly as you smile back. Though he can’t help but look you over once more, the small shirt definitely compliments your chest yet does not leave a lot to the imagination and your shorts are barely allowed to be titled shorts by how short they are. Eddie notices what the younger firefighter is doing and quickly elbows his ribs, earning a grunt and a displeased look from the other before smiling at you. “Three of your favorites, nena.” Eddie yells over the music to you and watches as you get to work, mixing three shot glasses filled with some purpelish looking liquor before sliding them over to him. “What would you like, Evan?” You ask softly before adding “a blowjob?” with a smirk, causing the young male to choke on his own spit, believing he did not hear you correctly. “I am talking about the drink, dumbass.” You explain with a small laugh, preparing one before setting it down before Buck, who still looks like a puppy which just got caught destroying your favorite pair of shoes. “T-Thanks,” he finally mutters out, grabbing the drink and mentally kicking himself for sounding like a schoolgirl that was talking to her first crush. You three fall into an easy conversation, barely paying attention to the time, not noticing that your shift was over until your coworker walks up behind you and tells you to start leaving. You nod and lead the two firefighters to the back room that usually only employees are allowed to enter before grabbing a shirt from your bag and pulling it on before looking at the two men. ���Before you ask, yes, it is your shirt, Eds. It is just very comfy.” You state, grabbing the rest of your belongings before smiling at the boys and leading them out of the back door.

A warm ball of cuddles and limbs, that is how you would describe the three of you on Eddie’s bed right now. After you left your workplace, the boys started bombarding you with questions and you answered them all honestly, about how you chose this job in hopes that you would forget the two men that made your days so much brighter, about how you missed Chris and a bunch of other things that they wanted to know. On the way back to Eddie’s place, they stopped at some restaurant that was still open and grabbed the food. Once you were all at his place, you ate and then proceeded to talk about the three of you, about the feelings the duo had for each other and for you and how they wished for you to be a part of the small family they had created. First you jokingly denied them, teasing them that you did not have any feelings for them, but after seeing the hurt flash on their faces, you quickly explained how you returned their feelings and that you missed them a lot within the past two months, even if Carla had kept you up to date with their wellbeing. So now you were all cuddling and just enjoying the presence, because even if tomorrow was not given, if tomorrow everything could fall apart, right now you three were a happy family and you would not change that for anything in this world.

Chris’s reaction the next morning when he walks into the kitchen and sees you sitting on the counter, sipping your coffee while Buck is standing between your legs is priceless. You did not know that the kid could even hit such a high note, but he manages to do so when he screams your name and scrambles over to you, pouting at Buck standing in his way. That was most definitely not what he had in his mind when his dad told him that there was a surprise waiting for him in the kitchen. Though you quickly push Buck to the side, earning a whine from the male about how mean you are, before jumping off the counter and hugging Chris tightly, excited to spend the rest of your mornings with those three.

[dameronology]

to all the pilots i've loved before {poe dameron} - 3/4

part three: better half of a whole

summary: you’re in love with poe dameron. it’s both the most complicated and most simple thing in the galaxy - and it’s all shoved into a shoe-box under your bed, in the form of a thousand love letters. here’s to hoping he never finds them. (series masterlist)

warnings: language, mentions of injury

i'm so sorry this took me so long to write!! i got writer's block and then i was horribly busy with a thousand others things and sadly, i cannot prioritise fan fiction over real life duties. and i would know, because i've tried

enjoy!!

- jazz

Poe didn't sleep for...well, it was probably days. Felt like years.

Dear trouble,

Every time he closed his eyes, your face would flash into his mind. The sound of your laugh echoing amongst the cries of war; the feel of your soft hands tracing the remains of battle scars and wounds. What if the hug you gave him before you left was the last? What if your slightly pained laughter at the shitty joke he'd made in the jungle the night before was all he had left? He cherished every memory he had of you but he loved you more.

I know you hate when I call you that, but it feels pretty accurate - because you do cause trouble, normally with me but more recently FOR me. Anyways, I never considered myself to be much of a letter writer, but then I saw yours and...fuck.

Love. What a funny fucking word, right? Said so easily, but meant so much. Something that felt so hard to find, but even more difficult to hold onto. His parents had found it and they'd kept it for so long, and he'd always wanted the same - nothing less, nothing more. Just the kind of unwavering, undying love that can survive a war and be happy with the domesticity that followed. The only difference between Poe and his parents was that they'd been fearless with every aspect of their lives, not withholding their ability to express feelings. Perhaps that's where he fell short. Shara had taught him a lot of things but she'd been lost before he taught her how to pull his head out his ass and just...say things how they were.

What am I even supposed to say? I love you too would be a start, because I obviously I do. I've always wanted to say it but I never wanted to risk what we had in case you secretly hated me, and now I'm going to live out the rest of my days regretting it.

The first that Poe managed to finally get some rest was four days after Leia had broken the news of your disappearance. He'd fallen asleep in his quarters, curled up into Finn's side and clutching a t-shirt of his that he'd left in your room - you'd borrowed it a few months ago, and it still smelt of you. It was a mixture of your everyday body fragrance and a little of engine oil. BB-8 was snoozing quietly in the corner and for the first time in days, Poe's jaw and shoulders weren't tense and clenched.

The little robot did stir, however, when he got a comms system message from Leia. He was awake immediately, cruising across the room and crashing straight into the nearest human he could find - and it was at that point that Finn regretted leaving his leg dangling off the side of the bed. He jumped awake, brown eyes finding the droid peering up at him.

You're not just my best friend. You're my partner in crime, my soulmate and you know that twin flame bullshit that Rey always go on about? You're probably that too because we're both flaming hot. You're the better half of this whole. You and me.

"Poe is sleeping, buddy," he quietly said.

"There's a message from the general," BB-8 beeped back.

Poe suddenly woke up at that - it could have been any message, and certainly not one about you, but something in his gut told him otherwise. If it hadn't have been, Leia would have left it til morning, or not even bothered him at all in his current state.

"What?" the pilot asked. "What is it?"

"They're back, in the med-"

Poe didn't give him a chance to say anything else, because he was already up and out the door - jacket unzipped, boots half unlaced, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions.

And even though he hadn't slept for days, he was running for his dear fucking life. The medical bay was right on the other side of the base and he didn't care. You were there - in what state, he didn't know - and that was all that mattered. He was just wanted to be with you, beside you, and he never planned on leaving.

If I see you again, I'm not gonna hide it anymore. I love you and you deserve to know that. I'm gonna give you the fucking world, I promise.

Poe skidded around the corner, stopping his tracks when he saw you across the room. You looked tired - far past it, in fact - and his entire body tensed when he saw the bruises on your arm and up your neck. Still, he took comfort in the fact that he knew you put up a good fight. You'd sparred together enough times and given him enough bruises to last a life time.

There was a slight oof as someone crashed into the back of Poe (Finn's subtle way of announcing his arrival). He placed a hand on his shoulder, shoving him forward slightly. It was clear that Poe was in a state of shock - at your loss, at your declaration, and even more at your return - because the last few days had changed everything.

Everything he'd ever wanted was about to come to fruition. No pressure.

"Go to them," Finn murmured.

With that, Poe took a few steps forward - you met him half away across the room, chests colliding with enough force to knock down an ATAT. He wound his arms you, pulling you towards him with one hand tangled in your hair and the other holding your back. He clung to you, tears in his eyes and entire body shaking, almost as though he was using the feeling of you to act as a reminder that this wasn't a dream. You were here. You were back. Perhaps a little worst for wear, but alive and standing all the same.

I don't know how I'll say it. Am I meant to just blurt it out? I've never said it to anyone before, so...what the fuck am I meant to do? Normally, I'd come to you for advice on this sort of this but that feels a bit counter intuitive.

"Hey, Poe," you gently murmured.

"Hey, trouble," he let out a shaky laugh, pulling back from the hug to clutch your face in his hands. "You're alive. You're here-"

"- yeah, I'm here," you grinned.

"What happened?" he pushed. "If I ever find those First Order bastards, I swear it's on site."

"They were trying to shoot us out the sky, so we had to lay low on a random moon for a few days, but the residents of said moon were not very friendly and - you know what? It doesn't matter," you leant into his touch, relishing the feeling of his hands against your skin. "I'm here and that's what's important."

"I was so scared," Poe admitted. "And they had me search your room for back up plans and-"

You froze.

"You...you searched my room?" you stuttered. "What did you find?"

The main thing is, I AM gonna tell you. I promise. Just...please come back.

Love, Poe

Poe's eyes widened - maybe now wasn't the best time to break the news. You were bleeding from your head and hadn't slept for days. To spring it on you before you were even cleaned up felt a bit unfair. His worst fears had been avoided, so he didn't mind waiting just a little longer.

"Nothing," he forced a smile. "C'mon, I'll clean you up."

Taking your hand in his, Poe lead you towards one of the beds. He was hardly a medical expert, but he'd been through enough cuts and scrapes to have a basic understanding of stitches. And luckily, your injuries didn't look too bad. It was more just the fact you had them in the first place that hurt him.

What if he'd gone on the mission with you? Or convinced you to stay? Fuck, he would have gone in your place if he knew what was going to happen. The last few days had been the worst of his life and he almost felt responsible for what had happened to you. Your pain was his pain, and he felt it in every fibre of his being.

But, of all things, at least he knew what love was now - and if you had never have gone MIA, he never would have gone looking in your room, and he never would have found those letters. It felt like a bit of a dick move to call them a blessing in disguise but his mother had always taught him the value of looking for silver linings. The last week had been one giant thunderstorm. There had been no breaks in the rain, or sun peaking through the clouds. It had just been darkness and thunder, but it was all beginning to clear now.

What was it that Shara had said when Poe was a kid? Things have a funny way of working out. This was all a testament to that, and also to the fact that she always seemed to be right.

Poe's hands moved gently as he stitched up the cut on your forehead. They were still steady as they moved, brown eyes occasionally moving down to meet yours. He always smiled when they did.

"There we go," he said. "That shouldn't scar, but if it does, it would make you look like a bad-ass, so..."

You chuckled slightly. "Thanks, Dameron."

"You don't have to thank me," he quietly murmured, running a thumb over your cheek. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Right," you grinned. "What did you do whilst I was gone?"

Cried. Read those letters. Cried some more. Wrote a letter myself, then cried on that too.

"I just...I caught up some on some reading," he forced a smile. "C'mon, let's go to my quarters. I have some bactaspray there for those bruises."

Poe took your hand in his again and helped you up off of the bed - you seemed okay to walk, but he didn't let go. He needed to feel you, to know that you were there. He was worried you might float away into the galaxy and disappear all over again if he didn't cling onto you.

And for you, the feeling of his warm hands against yours was a welcome relief after a long few days. You were trying to push the pain and the incoming nightmares to the back of your head, and it was much easier when Poe was beside you. You already knew that he was going to make you sleep beside him that night. Being on the same wavelength so often was a great feeling.

Poe hadn't thought about tidying his room - why would he? He'd been so preoccupied with you, and finding you, that he'd barely considered the idea. Besides, it wasn't like you were going to care about the shoes by his door, or the letters on his desk, or the unfolded laund-

- fuck.

The letters.

Your box of letters, which was sat on his desk, which was right by the door.

By the time he'd even registered that they were there, you were already half way into the room. In a somewhat half-arsed attempt to shove them back in the box and toss them to the side, Poe dove forward and knocked them into an open draw, slamming it shut.

When he turned around and saw your wide eyes, it was clear he was a little too late. You'd already seen them.

taglist: tags: @neverlandlibrarian @asphyzzz @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ubri812 @taina-eny @dessinemoiunehistoire @fangirl-316 @princessxkenobi @brandyllyn

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 5

First

Previous

Tim finished up pretty quickly.

After all, all the baby toys seemed to just be different variations of each other. Some crinkle, some make sounds, some squish, some… do nothing at all? Tim had no clue how he used to get by as a kid.

He ended up getting Damian three toys:

A tiny rubber duck. He’s almost completely sure that Marinette would have bought one if Tim hadn’t. At least when he was the one buying it he could opt to get the Darth Vader one (Damian had always been woefully uncultured, this was his one chance to make the kid watch sci-fi without risking getting stabbed).

A plush cow with crinkly ears. He had to hope that this could maybe jog memories of Batcow and, in turn, everything else. Tim had tried to think of something a little more relevant but all he could think of were things related to Batman, to Superboy, to the League of Assassins (did their lives really revolve around vigilante-work that much?)... and, unfortunately, this reality didn’t have merch that he could give the kid.

And a squishy plastic baguette. Because that was all he could think of to get back at Marinette for the duck thing.

When it came to little kid books he hesitated for just a bit before getting the basics -- stuff like animals and the letters and Spot The Dog. He wondered, vaguely, if he’d have to teach the kid numbers since they already used the Arabic numeral system. He got a book on it just in case.

Then he got a couple of books on parenting.

He checked out and then walked back to the sitting area where he was supposed to meet Marinette.

… she was taking forever.

He sighed quietly and skimmed through a book on parenting.

… oops they were supposed to breastfeed until Damian was about two. No clue what to do about that. Maybe the kid was already used to a bottle? He hoped so. He’d watch him more carefully while Marinette was holding him to see. In the meantime, he’d get a bottle and some formula on top of the baby food they’d been getting so far.

Alright so the kid was supposed to learn behaviors and language through observation. Good. That, hopefully, solved that problem. Tim probably would have just given the kid a textbook and said ‘good luck’. Marinette… he didn’t really know what Marinette would have done, but the woman wasn’t a teacher as far as he could tell and asking her to teach the kid properly was a little unfair.

Babies around his age are supposed to speak in something called… protowords? Like… a baby language? Damn, he has a miraculous and it seemingly allows him the power to understand every language but apparently ‘baby-speak’ didn’t count as a language. Tim called bullshit.

He felt a weight settle down on the bench next to him and absently glanced over.

Marinette sent him a slightly tired smile. She was wearing a new, dark red scarf.

He opened his mouth to say something only to have her shake her head and adjust her scarf a little to show him something.

Ah. It looked like Damian had fallen asleep on her shoulder so she’d fashioned the scarf into a makeshift baby sling.

“Could’ve used the stroller,” he whispered, setting his receipt in the book to mark his page.

She snorted. “And risk waking him? He cries every time he wakes up, I’m not dealing with that right now.”

He bit his lip. “You know… this book says he’s supposed to cry for, like, an hour to an hour and a half a day.”

She tipped her head to the side a little. “He’s cried like… three times.”

“Yeah, and he was really easy to shut up. Decidedly not normal.”

They looked back down at Damian, identical frowns on their faces.

“Does it have an explanation for why he’d be like this?” Marinette asked, her voice soft.

Tim hesitated.

“The only reasons I can think of are that he doesn’t think we’d help him if he cried or he thinks crying is something he’d be punished for. Considering how he was raised… it could be either. Or both.”

~

Marinette yawned as she sat back on the hotel bed. She leaned back against Tim, leaving him to bear the weight of both her and Damian.

He, to his credit, barely even blinked. He turned slowly until they were both leaning back against each other.

She tipped her head back to rest on his shoulder.

She could fall asleep like this, she thought. Propped against Tim. Damian, in her arms, watching an episode of something called True and the Rainbow Kingdom… it was nice.

Or, at least, it would be if Tim could stop that infernal tapping.

“Ugh, could you stop that? Some people actually sleep.”

He gave a tiny puff of laughter that acknowledged that he heard her but, alas, he continued typing.

She groaned a little and reached a hand behind herself to give him a tiny bap to his side.

“Hm. This may shock you, but hitting me really hasn’t helped your case.”

She huffed and twisted around to try and see over his shoulder. She’d given up on sleeping, anyway.

“What are you even doing?”

He shrugged just slightly. “Trying to figure out what to do about money.”

She nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder as he scrolled through jobs they could do with zero experience or degrees. That could sustain a family of three and pay for the daycare they would have to take Damian to. The options... weren’t great.

Damian tugged on her shirt for her attention and she looked down as he pointed at his screen with a bright smile. There was a black cat on the screen. She didn’t really know what he wanted until he kept saying ‘ma’ over and over. She nodded and said ‘cat’ in both Arabic and English, which seemed to sate him as he went back to watching… the giant green yeti monster stealing a basket of candy? What the fuck was even going on on this show? Were kids’ shows like this in her own world, too? Or was this one’s shows just especially weird?

A thought occurred to her and she looked back over at Tim.

“You exist in this world, right?”

He nodded absently and opened a tab that, despite its claim that it was an entry level job, apparently required two years of experience and a degree. He closed it quickly.

“Why don't we just mooch off of the other you?”

Tim sighed. “Because that’s illegal?”

“You’re a vigilante. I don’t think that ‘borrowing’ money from your alternate self is where you should draw the line on illegal activities.”

“I draw the line when it harms innocent people.”

She laughed at that. “He’s rich. It’s not like he’s going to miss it. Think of it as… giving the money to people who need it.”

“You’re a regular robin hood,” Tim said sarcastically.

“I know. I’m so kind,” she agreed, grinning.

There were a few moments of silence.

Then, finally, he shook his head. “Even if we could somehow do that -- which I can’t guarantee because I’m not completely sure I could guess my passwords -- the fact that we’re in Texas… he’d notice.”

She shrugged. “Then let’s move back to Gotham.”

He blinked and finally looked up from the computer. “What?”

“We don’t have much of a life here, really, so why not move?”

He considered this for a while before sighing and flopping back on the bed. “Let me see if I can even get into the account. There’s nothing to say that I even have the same social security number here...”

She nodded her understanding and laid back next to him. Damian whined a little at the sudden displacement but just ran a hand up and down his back absently until he was watching his show again, completely silent as he stared at the screen. Now the main girl was reaching into her bag for a weird orb of light that was, apparently, sentient. Was this the Dora of their world? God help their children.

Speaking of helping their children...

She picked up a parenting book to read while Tim tried to guess his otherworldly counterpart’s passwords.

~

Tim managed to get in.

He rested his head in his hands, cursing quietly.

She glanced over and smiled at his slightly flushed face.

“What was the password?”

He grumbled under his breath.

This only seemed to encourage her more because she started nudging his shoulder, the soft smile morphing into a cheeky grin.

He sighed and took a moment to gather himself before looking over at her. “It’s… ‘<3Richard<3graysons<3little<3brother<3’.”

“... I don’t get it.”

“Good. So you can’t tease me about it,” he said, sticking his tongue out at her.

She scoffed. “That’s not fair.”

“Totally is.”

He set the computer down beside himself and stretched his achy old bones. He’d had a baby for approximately two days now and he could already feel the bad back setting in. Tomorrow he would have gray hair.

“I’m going to look it up if you don’t tell me.”

“... he’s a celebrity,” Tim said quietly.

Her grin wavered back towards that genuine smile for just a second before spreading into an even wider grin. She reached out and pinched his cheeks. “Awwww, Tim, that’s so cute --!”

“Shut up,” he complained, batting her hands away.

She snickered. “No. I’m going to write that password on your tombstone.”

“You’re assuming I’m going to die first.”

“I have an extended lifespan. You’re only going to have that for another fifteen years. After that? Unless I’m really stupid you’re gonna die first.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to find out how to be immortal now. Purely to spite you.”

She snorted. “Okay. Good luck with that.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he pushed himself up with a groan. “I’m going to get him ready for bed.”

She nodded her understanding and continued with her reading.

Damian whined a little when Tim tried to take him away from where he had curled up next to Marinette but that seemed to be more because he was tired and cranky than genuine distress.

Tim was the one to bathe him. It wasn’t a bubble bath, he wasn’t eager to repeat the previous night’s mistakes, but he did give Damian the rubber duck. This seemed to work for all of them, since Damian now allowed them to take him out of the bath as long as he got to bring his duck.

Marinette grinned when she looked over at where Damian was chewing on his rubber duck as Tim struggled to click the annoyingly difficult buttons of the onesie into place.

“Told you he would love it.”

“We both know that wasn’t why you wanted to get it.”

“And we both know you didn’t get that squishy bread-thing just because you thought he would like it, either.”

He smiled. “Maaaaaybe.”

The onesie finally allowed itself to be buttoned and Tim picked Damian up so he could get into bed.

Marinette frowned. “This book says we shouldn’t let him sleep with us every night. Says it creates a bad habit that’s hard to break.”

Tim raised an eyebrow at her but, reluctantly, carried the kid over to the crib so they could sleep separately.

“Fine. But I’m going to sleep before him so I don’t stress out all night.”

She snickered. “Fine. Fine.”

He climbed into bed, set a pillow between them, and promptly dozed off before he could get woken up by Damian whimpering through the night.

… Tim woke up a few hours later -- his body wasn’t quite used to sleeping through nights just yet -- to find that Marinette had brought the kid into bed with them again.

He smiled a little and moved the pillow out from between them. Even if Damian was currently too trapped in Marinette’s arms to even reach it, it was best to make sure it couldn’t happen.

Damian whimpered a little in his sleep again and Tim tipped his head to the side. He reached over and gently combed his fingers through the fuzzy little tufts of hair that the kid had so far. Damian relaxed.

Tim sighed and shifted in the bed until he was closer to Damian, then maneuvered through Marinette’s mess of limbs to press a tiny kiss to the top of his head. The baby smiled in his sleep and, though the kid couldn’t see it, he returned the smile. He rested an arm around the kid as well in hopes that it would keep the kid feeling safe before allowing himself to drift off.

~~~~~

Next

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

[lupically]

#3B797A | XIAO.

genre | angst

word count | 1707

warning | mention of death, mention of blood, faint mention of injury

note | this was originally posted on my other writing blog, i am moving it here because... well, i have a genshin writing blog now. and, once again, this is not very good. let’s hope i get better at this!

if karmic debt is a real thing, this must be xiao’s worst one yet.

he swore he would keep an eye on you after the first time you died on him.

he has never felt anguish like it.

of all the invisible chains tied around his struggling limbs and his fragile neck, of all the pain and misery he has been put through over the years of his catastrophic life, of all the repressed memories and emotions he kept fighting back to keep his sanity at bay, he has never felt anguish and manic like he did when he saw your lifeless body on the ground with an arrow stuck to your back.

it was the worst one yet, especially when he was the reason why you ended up with a bed of bloody roses underneath you.

he swore he would keep an eye on you after that.

and then came the second time you died. that was also because of him.

the blood that trickled down your lips as you smiled at him was vivid in his memories. he was supposed to be fond of the way you felt relieved to see him there, after he had carried you behind a fallen wall so you didn’t have to see him deal with the treasure hoarders who put you in such a bad state for trying to take a pair of emerald earrings back.

he was, to a certain degree, when you choked out his name in that god-awfully brilliant voice of yours. it was faint, but he could hear the genuine happiness in you when you called his name.

you were always so excited to see him. ever since you dropped atop of him from the sky, apparently coming from nowhere, you have been happy to see him. he was undeserving of that; the chances you have given him at experiencing how soft this world can be was undeserved, but nonetheless, xiao was fond of the way you make him feel, more than he would like to admit, more than anything he has ever seen or heard or felt in this world.

you were the fondest he has ever felt. it was all you.

but the fondness goes like dust and ashes when you reached up with the pair of emerald earrings you bought him, which he dumped in the middle of the ruins because he was being petty about something insignificant he could no longer remember.

the sight of them gave him a moment of realization—you were here because of him.

and then you took your last breath—you died because of him, again.

he didn’t know how to feel when you didn’t respond to your own name. he kept calling for you—[name], wake up, he said. [name], stop playing around, you know you’re not funny, he said. [name], [name], [name]. but your eyes remained closed, so he held you close for the first time, and he exchanged the tears with apologies.

he promised he would keep an eye out for his actions after that.

yet here he was.

don’t die. please don’t die.

he dropped his spear and crouched down frantically next to you. he was still panting from the fight with the three ruin guards patrolling around fallen pillars and buildings, but what made him stress, even more, was less because of his sore body and more because of your bleeding head.

“[name]? [name], open your eyes, right now!” he said—scolded, in the voice he always talked to you with, the fondly defeated tone that showed he has surrendered his annoyance for your happiness, but with more urgency this time.

you coughed, feeling more lifeless than ever. there was a rush of deja vu back then, just a few moments ago when xiao gently laid you against the wall and left after telling you to stay still and keep your eyes open for him. it was like you have lived through this moment before, but you were hurting too much from your head wound to think into it.

xiao breathed out a sigh of relief.

thank the archons.

“hey, xiao…” you greeted with a faint smile, then you reached your hand up to give him the quingxin you picked. “flowers… got you flowers… for crowns… ”

he pursed his lips. you silly! you bone-head! why did you not just buy them from the flower shop? was what he wanted to say. even though knowing you, you would probably spill some weird argument like how flowers picked by other people wouldn’t have the same freshness and love in them, and he would say nothing because there was no winning for him when it comes to you.

he never has anything to say. nothing to go against your favors, and certainly nothing that makes you worry ever again. nothing that will get you running into forests alone to pick him flowers and risk the chance of you stumbling into ruin guards, or hilichurls, or treasure hoarders, or abyss mages.

(maybe the one you should avoid is him.)

“come on, let’s get you to the doctor, okay?” he said as he discarded the flowers at a frantic pace.

he looped your arms around his neck and hoisted you on his back. his spear sparkled next to the white flowers on the ground, reflecting a halo glow upward as if telling on him to the sky about what he did to you again. he took off running back to the city, praying to the archons that he could end your pain quicker, that he could find someone to stop the hurting faster.

but it seemed destiny had other plans.

he paused for a second to catch his breath. he did not notice the way your arms had long gone slack around his shoulders, and how you kept slipping off his back as if you could no longer support yourself. he was deliberately ignoring the details that signified your death, his delusional consciousness wishfully thinking that he would make it to the doctors in time.

“we’re getting there, [name],” he said as if he could still feel your short breath against his neck.

“you’re going to be fine, i will make sure,” he said as he began walking as if he could still feel your chest heave against his back.

“i will keep you safe next time, i promise,” he said as he leaned forward a little because your lifeless body was starting to slip off his back again.

“and then we can go pick flowers together, and you can make me flower crowns,” he croaked with guilted tears running down his cheeks, a smile on his face as if he wasn’t just given hope that he could save you this time, only to have you die on his back.

all because he said he would never put on a flower crown, and you insisted that he has to try.

(maybe the one you should avoid is him.)

the evil archon was silent when xiao appeared before it with your dead body. this was the third time. it was starting to see a pattern, and all it felt was glee that the pattern it has carefully cultivated was working in its favor.

because what better to keep the adepti under control than to make him feel indebted to itself? what better to keep the adepti under control than to keep reviving his dead lover and make him think they have a surviving chance this time around? what better to keep the adepti under control than to kill his lover and use his guilt against him every single time?

“dead again? what have you done?”

“please… help me…” xiao laid your body before the archon, which was just a statue without a face.

“reviving a human that was consumed by death takes a great deal of power, alatus.”

xiao gritted his teeth, but he said nothing when he could feel your skin under his gripping fingers. he lowered his head, pushing down the horrendous amount of anger and humiliation to the back of his mind, and he begged.

he begged for another chance to see your beautiful eyes smile under the moon again, he begged for another chance to hear you talk on and on about the wondrous world you two live in together, he begged for another chance to feel your radiant soul live near him and to let you show him around the city as if he could not already navigate through it with his eyes closed.

(he could not. he knew the concrete roads and the old stone walls, but he could never know about the smooth flower petals dancing with the wind and the tender glow of the sky everyone shared without you taking his hand and dragging him across all parts of the world.)

(just like cotton candy, you told xiao. his frown melts like cotton candy, whatever cotton candy was.)

“i’ll do anything,” he said.

“for the mortal. really.”

“i will do anything,” xiao declared again.

the golden flair in his eyes almost made the evil archon shiver.

it was radiating off of him—the heat of anguish and terror that he had once killed you, the heat of unfairness and humiliation that he has to stoop so low as to meddle with life and death, the heat of extreme affection for a lover he now has nowhere to cast upon because the sole receiver has long died in his arms.

all for a mortal. a special mortal. a mortal who has made someone who hates, love. a mortal who has made him, him who hates and scorns, love. not just themself, but everything else around him—music, flowers, lights, cities. a mortal who made sure he will always love, still, even after the sole reason for his affection is gone and he no longer has a reason to be gentle.

the archon wanted to laugh.

truly. the only thing more maleficent than love itself is the act of using it against someone.

looking at xiao right now—inadequate, fragile, chained, and so miserable.

oh, how it worked in its favor.

it has done so many things to the poor boy, but this one, oh, this would be the worst one yet.

[danishmiilk]

when thunder splits the sky - na jaemin

au || royalty!au, soulmates!au

genre || angst, fluff, slight crack

warnings || swearing, death mentioned, almost deathly sickness, a lot of stress on jaemin and y/n’s part, throwing up.

summary || soulmates. the source of happiness, the source of sickness. you’re shocked that your best friend (and the second prince) is your soulmate, but it shouldn’t be too bad. after all, you’re best friends, right? you know each other better than anyone else in the world. but when jaemin refuses to realise his love, shit hits the fan.

word count || ~10k

note || this is a collaboration piece with @astroboy-lele​ for @k-dinernet​‘s dance off event!

you and jaemin were close, closer than a commoner and a prince should be. but since you were the main cook’s daughter, it wasn’t too uncommon to see the two of you running around with bright smiles lighting up your faces. then studies took over for jaemin. he was constantly studying to become a better king than his dad, which was slightly unfair since he wasn’t even the crown prince. but accidents could happen, so jaemin had to be prepared. so you were left to your own devices most of the time, fiddling with things in the kitchen, or helping clean the monstrous castle jaemin called home. 

“jaem!” you giggled happily when jaemin emerged from the library’s study. he looked tired. more tired than a 17 year old should be. dark circles contrasted his pale skin, and your hand automatically came up to rub at his slim cheeks. “you should get more rest.” you chided him.

“can’t.” jaemin responded curtly, removing your hands from his face. “i need to study.” 

"but you're always studying," you sighed. it shouldn't be this hard to spend time with your best friend, but you supposed it was one of the cons of befriending the second prince of your kingdom. 

"you don't understand, y/n! how could you? it's my duty to my family and my country to keep studying in case, heaven forbid, anything happens to doyoung hyung!" he snapped sharply at you, and though you knew he was clearly overstretched and stressed beyond anything you'd ever seen him (or didn't see him, he was always in the library nowadays anyway), you still took a step back and flinched away, hurt. jaemin stepped forward, mouth trying to form apologies. you shook your head, eyes glassy.

“don’t.” your voice was softer than expected. “i’ll.. i’ll leave you to it.” you ran off before jaemin could even react, wiping at your eyes. 

jaemin watched you go. he watched you leave, back retreating into the dark hallways. he felt bad, of course he did - jaemin would never snap at you for no good reason. the last time he actually wanted to hurt someone was when you came to him sobbing, one year ago. the memory was still fresh in jaemin’s mind. 

you supposed it could be you being too sensitive, but it was the toll the absence of jaemin took on you. sure, absence made the heart grow fonder, but it also did make cracks emerge in a friendship. you couldn’t see your cracks yet, but they’d emerge soon enough - it was the first time in so long you’d managed to talk to jaemin, and he’d just brushed you away brusquely. your hand raised to your eyes to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen. 

without looking where you were running, you’d bumped into something very solid. something very human. roughly, you placed your hands on said solid thing and pushed yourself away, speeding around the obstacle to the forest, tears still filling up your eyes. you didn’t blink them back - if you’d blinked, they were sure to have fallen out.

“y/n?” the very confused crown prince shouted out from somewhere behind you, “what’s going on?” and unbeknownst to you, his brother was soon to follow, brushing past him like he was invisible (last he checked, he wasn’t.) “jaemin?” the pair of you had left long before there was a chance to provide the prince with any of his requested answers, leaving a very confused doyoung standing in the middle of the hallway. sighing, doyoung brushed off his clothes. sometimes he didn’t know what he put up with you for. 

once you set foot into the forest, immediate regret almost washed over you. it started raining. not gently either, it came down in harsh droplets, hammering into your clothes, thoroughly soaking you to the bone. you shivered, rubbing your hands up and down your arms, trying to bring warmth to yourself. it didn’t work, so you settled with standing under a tree in an attempt to stay out of the storm. you gazed up at the sky, wincing as thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding you of your fears. you wished with all your might that the storm would stop. it didn’t. of course it didn’t. why would it, it was nature, and nature didn’t listen to common people, only the gods above. “y/n? y/n! oh my god, y/n!” you heard a shout echo through the forest, and you shivered again. “there you are, do you know how long i’ve been looking for you?” jaemin accused, hands grabbing at your shoulders. you glared back, though it wasn’t threatening as you were shaking and shivering, teeth chattering. “you know it’s the rainy season and almost winter! what the fuck were you thinking?” jaemin huffed, but shrugged off his coat and draped it around your shoulders gently, concern making his eyebrows knit together.

“it was sunny before.” you protested, and jaemin exhaled, shaking his head with disappointment at your naive actions. 

“you should know the weather changes quickly,” jaemin retorted, and that shut you up. you knew the weather changed fast, but emotions took over you, just wanting to escape the castle jaemin called home. “we should find some shelter. i know there’s an old cottage somewhere, i just don’t know where.” jaemin sighed. 

you raised your eyebrows at him, “what, it wouldn’t be some strange warped hansel and gretel remix going on, would it? because we’re not smart enough to push witches into ovens.” jaemin smiled widely, chuckling at your small jab at yourself and him.

“no, it’s completely safe.” he assured you, grabbing your hand. jaemin nervously cleared his throat. “uh… i, i should apologize for earlier. it wasn’t right for me to snap at you.” you squeezed his hand gently.

“i know you’re stressed, it’s okay. i really should be more lenient.” you sighed, slightly disappointed in yourself for not understanding your best friend’s struggles. his hair was sticking to his forehead, yours similarly sticking you your arms and neck. 

“it’s just the expectations, you know. of my parents, of the people… of the country.” jaemin’s eyes widened in horror and fear, an expression that would be almost comical under different circumstances and whispered, “what if i have to rule the country one day?”

your friend blanched and you sighed, tightening your hold around him to anchor him to reality, “look, i’m not saying you’re incapable of doing it, but it’s really quite impossible that something were to happen to doyoung, so i don’t think you really have to worry about that too much. still, being royalty is probably way harder than i could imagine.”

his voice wistful, jaemin’s eyes shined with tears - or perhaps it was just the rain creating illusions. “sometimes i wish i were never born into royalty. but you know what, there’s pros and cons to everything, that’s just how life is. we get privileges, but we can’t have the best of both worlds. still,” he looked down at the wet ground, “every time i see children running about or playing with their friends in courtyards or in the streets, it makes me wish i had a childhood. makes me wish i had friends, and was allowed to play with them, to live a normal life. normal. what a beautiful word, really, and how ironic that millions of people would give anything to be a member of the royal family, while the second prince would do anything to get out of being one.”

there wasn’t very much to say, you thought, considering jaemin very rarely went into long, emotional speeches like this one. you’d never be able to understand, and you weren’t about to try. softly, so very softly, you whispered, “but you have me.” jaemin smiled softly, and slightly proudly at you. 

“yeah. yeah, i do.” and he did. he’s always had you, from the first day he sneaked into the kitchen for a taste of his birthday cake before he was supposed to, until- well, there isn’t an until if you’ll have his back forever, is there?

a cottage was beginning to come into view in the distance, a quaint little thing fit for no more than one person (or perhaps seven dwarves, no reference to snow white intended). the rain blurred your vision and wind whipped through your hair, but it was shelter, and so hand in hand, you ran towards it.

“to what honour do i owe the presence of the second prince at my humble abode?” a boy’s voice, sweet and melodic, came from behind you.

you jumped. “jaemin! i thought you said it was safe.” you hissed, clutching at jaemins arms. jaemin just shrugged. you sighed, keeping an eye on the strange boy. jaemin gripped your hand tighter, however.  

jaemin gestured vaguely around, staring at the auburn-haired boy with no small amount of skepticism, “i thought you’d be… older. like, an old lady.”

the boy scoffed. “who’s to say i’m not? witches don’t always have to be middle aged ladies with no fashion sense and even less hair. i’m donghyuck, by the way. come on in.” jaemin was still looking the boy up and down in curiosity, finally blurting out, “witches use umbrellas?”

“no, we’re waterproof,” donghyuck deadpanned, sarcasm filling his words.

“jaemin,” you frowned, “do you know him?” a quick shake of his head confirmed your suspicions. “then why,” you half-screeched into his ear, “do you assume he’s safe?”

“i’m not. i could turn you into a frog, if you want.” the boy suggested, waving a hand, making you flinch and jaemin move your smaller frame behind him. donghyuck moved a shoulder evenly up and down, “joking.” 

“that wasn’t funny!” you gasped. donghyuck moved his other shoulder up and down, doing a strange half-shrug again, “nobody gets my humour.” 

you followed him into the house, dripping water all over his doormat and the wooden planks of his floor, but not daring to move any further than that. donghyuck waved his hand, slamming the wooden door shut behind you and lighting the fire, “will the two of you stop looking so shocked? it’s not like i’m going to cook you for dinner, so why are you acting like you’ve never seen a witch before?”

“because we haven’t,” the note of childlike curiosity reappeared in jaemin’s voice, and you were glad his mind was taken off of his royal duties, “they were outlawed a long time ago.” “right,” donghyuck levitated a couple mugs of cocoa over to you, “i forgot, sorry.”

“so your existence is basically illegal, and yet you’re serving the prince of your kingdom hot chocolate in the middle of the thunderstorm like nothing’s wrong?” you sputtered in disbelief, though you didn’t actually splutter, of course; that was rather an expression authors liked using. “all in a day’s work,” donghyuck glanced at you again, “come in and stop dripping water on the mat. would you believe it, magically drying the mat is harder than magically drying the wood.” very honestly, you didn’t know what to make of that boy. 

you stood awkwardly, pressing yourself into jaemin’s side as you watched donghyuck bustle around his house, ironically not unlike an old lady. “so, ummm, could you show us some magic or something?”

“like drying our clothes,” jaemin added, motioning to the soaked fabric draped over his body.

“they’ll dry, just sit by the fireplace. in the meantime, i can show you a soulmate spell if you’d like to see it. it’s one of the easier and prettier spells, so i think you’d enjoy it, even if it’s highly unlikely it would work. soulmates are rare things, and even rarer are soulmates who discover each other and the fact that they are soulmates. so i’ll do it, but if you two don’t turn out to be soulmates, don’t be disappointed. if you do, there isn’t going to be a flash of golden light and a shower of sequins either, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“you’re saying like what would happen is one of us would die and suddenly come back to life.” you sarcastically commented, but eyes growing wide as the moon above when donghyuck looked around nervously. 

“well…” he started, but you held up a hand. 

“excuse me, what. come again?”

“let me just show you.” donghyuck sighed, and got up, grabbing a book from the large shelf pushed against the wall. he flipped through a few pages carefully, and let out a satisfied “ah,” when he found the correct page in the yellowing book. “the concept of soulmates hath been the strongest bond known to man since the beginnings of time. for the true blossoming of true love takes place when the eyes of soulmates transform into colours of the fall. time and time again, history older than anything thou or i could ever imagine hast proven that soulmates are rare, ones who know about them even more so. for thee, the pair who is reading this, thou art soulmates. it would be an insult to fate and everyone who cannot experience such a connection to not realise your feelings. thou hath one month to realize feelings or one half of the pair will be fated to a cruel ending. as mere mortals, we do not make the rules. nobody can help thee except the other, but fear not. you are soulmates. you have a bond. said bond shalt be enough, if thou realises it.” haechan read, rubbing the thin, old pages of the book between careful fingers. you glanced over at jaemin who was shifting his weight back and forth, not knowing where to put his feet. “so, basically,” donghyuck started, ignoring jaemin’s nervous state. “if your soulmate doesn’t acknowledge their feelings for you, or you don’t, one of you would basically die.” he shrugged. your mouth dropped open. how in the world was he so calm about it? “what the fuck? they could die?” jaemin seemed to share your sentiment.

“what is a fuck?” donghyuck furrowed his eyebrows together, evidently confused as to what this strange new word meant. jaemin faltered, taken aback, “wait, dude, you look like you’re, what, seventeen, and you have no idea what fuck means?” donghyuck looked at jaemin like he was an idiot, “never gotten the chance to interact with a lot of other seventeen year olds.” jaemin nodded solemnly, “can relate. only got this loser for a friend.” jaemin hooked a thumb in your direction. you rolled your eyes. 

“let us begin the spell! i feel like i’m conducting a child gender reveal party,” he exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together with glee. you held up your hand.

“hold the fuck up, you’re not performing this spell! one of us could DIE!” you exclaimed.

“there’s the word fuck again. kinda catchy.” donghyuck tested it out under his breath. “any other new words?” he asked. jaemin opened his mouth, no doubt to actually teach donghyuck how to swear, and well, you weren’t exactly opposed to letting him, but not dying came higher than teaching people you just met how to swear on your priority list.

“don’t worry. there’s only a slight chance that you’re soulmates anyway, and it’s better to know than to remain in oblivion. i’m not kidding.” “ignorance is bliss?” you suggested, desperate to stop donghyuck. “no, y/n. i think… if we indeed are soulmates, we deserve to know. i want to at least know why i died if i do suddenly die.”

“i have heard of that saying, y/n, was it? say, can fuck be used as a noun, a verb or an adjective?” “any way you want,” jaemin grinned, “reality can be anything you wish it to be!” “sweet,” donghyuck plonked a cauldron of unknown origin onto the table, “i like that word already.”

pulling a ladle out of seemingly nowhere, donghyuck pointed said ladle at you, “what’s your favourite flower?” you stared at him blankly, “you need that for the spell? i don’t really have a preference.” donghyuck rolled his eyes, “no, i was just curious. if you’re interested, your aura says daisy and jaemin’s absolutely screams carnations. for the record, i have zero idea what those flowers mean, but who cares?” he waved an arm over the cauldron which then proceeded to bubble, pushing dandelions and carnations to the surface. white. all white. “pretty enough, i suppose. i don’t usually give my services discounted, so you can just teach me some new words and it’s a deal.”

as you thought back, you did have a small memory of making flower crowns with jaemin. you often made daisy crowns, while jaemin’s were, as far as you knew, carnations. they were always given to you, all his carnation-based flower accessories: crowns, necklaces, bracelets. 

you were jerked back to the present and away from distant memories as jaemin helpfully, or not so helpfully, instructed donghyuck on how to swear, “so, motherfucker is a noun. the verb equivalent is motherfucking, but that’s usually used as an adjective anyway. can also be shortened to mf. bitch is a more female-specific curse word since its original meaning was something along the lines of female dog.”

“i thought dogs were nice,” donghyuck pointed a finger aggressively at the bubbling liquid inside the cauldron, flowers obscuring most of its contents, “this always takes way too fucking long to boil so i can’t do anything. how perfectly bitchy of it.” jaemin’s face lit up with that mischievous smile you were so used to, “you’re a natural!” “why, thank you.” you had to be imagining things. either that, or your ears were waterlogged. shaking your head wildly, all you got was a headache, so no, your ears weren’t waterlogged. and so the two boys before you were complimenting each other casually on their ability to swear, even as one’s existence was against the law and the other was the prince of your kingdom. because that was not… strange. not strange at all.

“why don’t you teach him things like crap, hell and damn? why… fuck and bitch?” donghyuck had settled into an armchair by the fire, snapping his fingers every minute or so to keep the cauldron’s contents boiling, “you want to learn the interesting shit. like, you know, if i can learn shit and motherfucker then why am i learning crap and hell and damn? they sound lame compared to bitch, fuck and shit.” donghyuck shrugged, you sighed, and jaemin nodded like he’d birthed and raised donghyuck for seventeen years just for this moment. 

“i mean, my parents don’t let me curse, but it’s fun to see them mad sometimes.” jaemin shrugged. you shook your head at the boy next to you (we shall omit the fact that he learnt half his curse words from you, and the other half from the legendary crown prince’s speech in which he accidentally swore half a dozen times in front of the whole nation. doyoung got grounded, but it made jaemin, and by extension you, developed a heck of a lot more respect for him.) you watched quietly as the two boys exchanged details about their lives and excitedly swore together. unconsciously, you started shivering again, your clothes still not quite dry. jaemin noticed, and picked up the blanket laid across his lap, wrapping it around your shoulders, making sure the blanket was secure around you before turning back to donghyuck. you learnt he also liked to be called haechan or hyuck, lived out here all his life, and didn’t know much about the kingdom from having to stay hidden from the world. jaemin’s expression held a hint of guilt, knowing that he was a member of the family that had caused huyck's plight.

“ooh! the spell is done!” hyuck clapped, and scrambled to his feet, once again doing the weird shrug thing, skipping over to the cauldron. his hair bounced and jaemin snickered while you quieted him. you shrank back into the couch as the sounds from the caldron became louder and donghyuck’s eyes started to sparkle. jaemin grabbed your hand, palms slightly sweaty. donghyuck peered into the large metal bowl, and smiled. his smile made you a bit uneasy. 

“ready?” he asked the two of you, and jaemin nodded while you hesitated. 

“yes.” 

nothing happened for a moment and haechan waved his hands over the flower-filled water, mumbling some ancient words. you watched, eyes wide, as the water came out in a stream, winding around the circumference of the small cottage, and then around you and jaemin’s hands. you gasped, as the water was ice cold though it was boiling just moments ago. a daisy settled on jaemins wrist, wrapping around it tightly. a carnation wrapped around your finger, like it’s own special promise to you. jaemin frowned.

“is that supposed to mean something?” he asked, tugging at the flower. it didn’t move or tear. haechan eyes doubled in size as his eyes zeroed in on the flowers. 

“you’re… you’re soulmates.” 

jaemin stood there in shock, and shook his head. “no way. we’re best friends.” he protested. your heart was slightly crushed, as you liked him for a few months now. who wouldn’t? “we can’t be soulmates. no way.” he shook his head again, as if to clear away the water clogging his ears. you let go of jaemin’s hand. your heart was hammering, matching the raindrops that pelted to the ground.

“are.. are you sure?” you asked, voice wavering. haechan nodded. your hands were shaking now, and jaemin was ignoring you. “can i… may i lie down?” you asked, twirling a finger around your long strands of hair. donghyuck nodded, pointing you to what you assumed to be his room. as you slipped off, you heard jaemin and donghyuck whisper something together.

the next few days you didn’t see much of jaemin, only when he came out of the library to get food. even those days were rare, as he often ate in there, or brought his lunch in during the morning. and each day, jaemins face looked more and more pale. the flowers had vanished, though they left marks on where they rested just a week ago. you cast a glance down the empty hallway to the library, feet hesitating. you made up your mind, pushing open the large oak doors and… found jaemin passed out on the ground. 

you gasped, rushing over and checking his temperature. it was abnormally normal, though he was sweating. you called a maid over, and soon you found yourself in the hospital wing. how were you going to break it to his parents that their younger son was sick because you two were soulmates. the thought itself was ridiculous.

“is jaemin okay?” well, fuck you, he’s obviously not. an undertone of worry was detected from the trained calmness of doyoung’s voice. the king and queen had yet to arrive, and doyoung stood behind you, hand resting on your shoulder in a slightly failed attempt to calm you. quick breaths left you, panic filling your mind and cluttering your lungs. the crown prince patted at your shoulder awkwardly, turning to leave as he couldn’t really do much. besides, it was fairly obvious the two of you needed to be alone.

as the day faded into night, jaemin was still, not moving as you watched him, hands grasping at your hair. this was all your fault. no, it was that bitch of a witch named donghyuck. he cast the spell. you wanted to blame jaemin for not accepting that you were soulmates, and now he was going to die because of it. 

obviously, you hadn’t had a soulmate before. but you could sense it, you knew that no matter what jaemin had done, you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him. to love so hard you’re falling, but you know you’re flying. you’re not there yet, definitely not. there was an inkling of the possibility of that happening, though. you barely blamed jaemin for everything (which was mostly his fault anyway), and staring at the pale complexion of the boy in front of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay angry. you slipped your hand into his (see? can’t help it. this was all because you were soulmates, and totally not because you just wanted to.), and as storybook-esque as it was, it felt so right. a maid brought you dinner, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scoop the rice and noodles into your mouth. your stomach was protesting, but you didn’t care, resting your head on your arm, you clutched jaemin’s hand tightly. tears pricked at your eyes, and this time, you didn’t stop them. 

doyoung came by again in the morning and found you awake, dark blue and purple eyebags obnoxiously present. “have you been here the whole night?” you stretched, not letting go of jaemins limp hand, back aching from the uncomfortable position you were in for the whole night.

“is there a wrong answer?” you asked, yawning as you spoke. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples. 

“he’ll survive, y/n. it’s just sickness. we have the best doctor-”

“it’s not just a sickness!” you snapped, fire igniting in your stomach, the need to protect haechan slowly shrinking. you found yourself telling the oldest prince everything from getting caught in the rain, jaemin having a breakdown, the walk in the woods, to finding the cottage, and even the witch you encountered, though his existence was very much illegal. doyoung listened. he listened to every word, and nodded along, though his eyes were slowly going from panicked to angry.

“so, you found a witch, donghyuck, was it?” you nodded in confirmation, death gripping jaemin’'s hand. if he ever woke up he would for sure scold you for making his dominant hand ache. “he cast a soulmate spell, and jaemin didn’t accept. so now the gods are punishing him?” you nodded again. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples again. you watched anxiously, worried for donghyuck’s safety.

“could you get donghyuck to come here?” doyoung asked. that is not what you were expecting. blinking nervously, you nodded. you remembered the path jaemin took, right? if not, you could just shout. 

“do you promise not to kill him? or like, arrest him? he’s an annoying motherfucker, but i think jaemin would be sad if you did,” you inhaled. doyoung nodded with a perfectly straight face. “he could turn you into a frog.” you added, deciding to trust him. doyoung looked a bit shocked, but you reluctantly stood up. “i’ll be back.” you whispered to jaemin, leaving doyoung to look after his brother. 

setting off in the woods alone was scarier than you thought. shivering, you really wished you had jaemin in that moment. really wished. the sooner you got to donghyuck, the sooner he would be better, right? wrong.

“what do you mean you can’t remove the spell?” you shrieked, panic filling you once again. donghyuck looked sorrowful, and doyoung was standing with his arms crossed off in the corner. 

“i can’t, i’m sorry, y/n. jaemin has to realize he loves you for the sickness to go away. and either way, all my spell did was prove that the two of you were soulmates. the sickness stems from the heavens” 

“i have to what?” jaemin’s voice cracked slightly from not using it for the past few days. “jaemin!” you practically sobbed, hand clenching around his fingers from where you’d reached for them unknowingly. he squeezed back weakly, coughing. “what do i have to do?” 

“realize you love y/n.” haechan said simply. 

“i don’t think it works like that!” your voice came out slightly higher than usual, laughing nervously to stop jaemin from feeling uncomfortable. he had to, love didn’t work as such. you just didn’t decide to go, ‘okay today i have decided i love y/n!’ jaemin looked at donghyuck with visible confusion. all haechan offered was a half shrug in return. 

“what happens if i don’t?” jaemin whispered. haechan glanced at doyoung, nervous that someone so high and regal was standing in the same room as him - jaemin didn’t count, seeing as he’d spent the first hour of knowing hyuck teaching him to swear, and he wasn’t the crown prince anyway - if he did or said the wrong thing, he would definitely get executed. 

“we’ll get there when we get there. how long does he have?” doyoung asked. you gripped jaemin’s hand tighter, nervous of the answer. “it… depends?” donghyuck offered. doyoung scowled. “very helpful.” “i’m sorry, i’ve never had to deal with this kind of fuckery before,” donghyuck waved his hands around, “okay, swear i’m not doing magic, but i really didn’t cause any of this. okay. maybe a bit. but it would have happened anyways.” your eyebrow lifted. 

“what do you mean, anyways?” jaemin asked, frowning.

“the soulmate spell only helps the soulmates find each other. and gets the show on quicker, but a year from now, the same thing would’ve happened.” haechan explained, still waving a hand. doyoung’s eyebrows knitted together. “so, jaemin and y/n should spend as much time together as they can.” hyuck concluded. 

“and die faster?” jaemin snarled. haechan shook his head quickly, eyes straying to the other royal member in the room.

“no, if you spend more time together, then it’ll slow down until you realise you’re in love. usually, you get only a week, but if you spend every day together, it’s up to… a month?” haechan shrugged, letting the slightest hint of resentment slip into his voice, “maybe i’d know better if i actually could come out of hiding to be taught by more experienced witches. my work here seems to be done anyway, adios!” it was like donghyuck was born to be a showman. he ripped the curtains off and disappeared under them with a flash, letting the rich fabric settle slowly to the ground. doyoung sighed. 

“well, you guys heard what he said. spend as much time together as you can.” doyoung shrugged. “and jaemin, try not to die.” doyoung added, a small smile playing at his lips, like he knew something you didn’t. jaemin nodded, head thrown back onto the plush pillows. you frowned, jaemin usually loved to hang out with you. something definitely changed over the last few weeks.

try not to die, he said. well, you were definitely dying inside. and jaemin wasn’t getting any better, coughing, occasional throwing up, and sneezing. he barely could keep his food down, let alone sit up without any help. it worried you. it worried you a lot more than you let on. to say things were awkward was putting it lightly. everyone avoided the two of you, seeing the tension held over your and jaemin’s heads. you started to get fed up after a few days. 

“what happened? aren’t you supposed to be with jaemin?” doyoung asked as you stormed downstairs. 

“he’s not talking to me. what’s the harm in taking a small break?” you exhaled, running a hand through your now messy hair. doyoung frowned, the worry lines creasing his forehead. “don’t worry, i’m going back to the ward in half an hour. it’s just so… infuriating.” you ranted to the crown prince, resting your head on the stairwell railing. doyoung had stopped you half way down the stairs. “we’re soulmates for god's sake! can’t he just… talk to me? when did he start to see me as a bother? when did he… start to hate me? it’s like we never were friends. i miss him, doyoung. i miss my best friend. i miss his smile, his laugh, his weird antics, i miss my jaemin.” you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes for the third time today. jaemin being sick and ignoring you while, quite literally, on his deathbed did not help. especially since you two were soulmates. 

“when did you start to fall in love with him?” doyoung questioned softly. you thought for a moment. when did you truely start to love jaemin? not in the rain. not when you had your first fight when you saw him. no, it started a while ago. when jaemin started to grow up. when you stopped making flower jewelry and when he started to give you real gems. when? you weren’t exactly sure. maybe you always loved him. maybe he always loved you. but when would he figure that out? doyoung just nodded, understanding your confused gaze, unfocused and misty-eyed. he stood up, brushing his black slacks and deep red shirt. “give him a bit. jaemin is a bit slow with these kinds of things.” you only nodded in response, mindlessly walking back to the ward jaemin was residing in. 

jaemin still was not getting any better the next few days. he still refused to talk to you, only nodding or rolling his eyes as a response to you trying to start to converse. you were starting to lose hope. 

you were surprised to see him lying on the cold tiled ground. 

“jaemin, why are you on the ground? you should be in bed. it’s cold out.” you scolded, moving towards him. jaemin held up a hand, draping his hands over his stomach.

“the floor is nice and cold,” he uttered, sighing with relief as the tile cooled his sweaty body down. you frowned, huffing. jaemin, once again, did not listen.

“the ground is dirty. i can turn down the heat-” jaemin cut you off. 

“shut up! i’m dying, i don’t care if the ground is dirty!” jaemin hissed, and you backed up, saddened by his tone. jaemin didn’t notice, too busy coughing into his elbow to notice your state.

“you’re not going to die,” you whispered, and jaemin moved his elbow away. “you’re not. i refuse to let you. i don’t care if you don’t love me right now, but you’re my soulmate, jaemin. soulmate. do you know how many people wish to have soulmates? jaemin, i’ve been by your side since we were in diapers. we played in the mud together. we got in trouble together. we did everything together,  jaemin. i watched you grow up. i watched you become more responsible. i watched, and i waited for you to confess. but you never did, so now you’re sick, and it’s all your fault. don’t push the blame on me, on donghyuck, or on anyone. this is on you. if you want to sit here and wallow in your self-pity, go ahead. i’m tired, jaemin. i tried to give you time, but you only have three weeks left. i don’t…” you choked on your words. “i don’t know what i’ll do if you ever die suddenly.” you whispered, backing out of the door. jaemin struggled to his feet, but you were already gone, ends of your hair and dress flowing behind you. 

he stared at the empty spot where you’d been just moments before, feeling the same emptiness in his heart. bitterness welled up from within him. he wasn’t that dumb either, but love just didn’t work that way. just because some spell told you that you were soulmates didn’t necessarily mean that with a magical click of your fingers you’d stare into each others eyes and sappily declare your everlasting love.

doyoung stepped out from nowhere, looking around with a confused expression, “where’s y/n? i swear i saw her here just a few minutes ago.”

“hey, hyung.” doyoung hummed in response. jaemin sat up with some difficulty, holding a hand up to stop doyoung from trying to help him, “what if this sickness has got nothing to do with the soulmate fuckery? what if i just, uh, have the plague or something?”

“have the plague or something,” doyoung drawled sarcastically, “the last time the plague was going around was, like, a hundred years ago.” jaemin winced.

“or maybe i have cancer.”

“or maybe,” doyoung narrowed his eyes at his brother, “you’re just being a fatheaded dick who can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re soulmates with your best friend, and have to realise your love for each other so you don’t suddenly stop breathing!” doyoung stalked out of the room without a single word, pausing to seemingly contemplate whether slamming the (very heavy) oak door would help prove his point. he very intelligently settled on just stamping his foot. it made him look like a child, but jaemin hadn’t seen doyoung this upset in a while. and frankly, it got him thinking a bit. 

you walked into the hospital wing as usual without greeting jaemin. it wasn’t like you got a reply anyway. “hey,” the prince offered as you took up your usual spot by his bed with a book, a clear indication that you didn’t want conversation. 

your eyebrows twitched a little. granted, you weren’t expecting him to say anything, but it must be a testament to your friendship if your little blow up had at least gotten jaemin to think a little. you stared pointedly down at the book you didn’t even know the title of.

“y/n.” still no response. “you’re holding the book upside down,” jaemin sighed.

furious with yourself, you flipped the book the right side up again, “you don’t want to talk to me. stop forcing yourself to.”

“i do want to talk to you, okay? i don’t particularly want to die either, the soulmates idea is just hard to stomach.”

“what, does loving me sound so bad? am i so unlovable?” you slammed your book closed, trying not to choke on the shower of dust that came with it. logically, you shouldn’t be getting mad. jaemin was just trying to make things better, but he sounded so forced. “you sound so forced to do this, jaemin.”

“oh, are you getting mad at me now? you were sad because i wasn’t talking to you, and now you’re mad because i am! what the fuck am i supposed to do?” jaemin glared at you from underneath the covers, “i’m trying, okay? i thought you said you didn’t want me to die!”

“i don’t want you to die!” you hissed back at him, tears springing to your eyes again.

“are you crying again? if every time we talk you get that sad, then maybe you should just let me die!”

you dusted yourself off and ran out of the room, not even bothering to give jaemin an answer. why didn’t he get it? it’s not that hard to understand! (when else but) on your way out, you bumped into (who else but) doyoung, crying (what else but) angry tears. again. you really had to stop doing that.

to nobody in particular, doyoung whispered, “why are they so angsty?”

“we need to talk,” doyoung declared the moment he walked into the room in one of the pockets of time that you weren’t in it. jaemin looked up from the extremely interesting loose thread on his blanket and nodded, “what about?”

“y/n.”

jaemin’s expression darkened in a nanosecond. “no,” he practically growled, “not her again. i can figure this out myself, doyoung hyung! you don’t have to help me.”

“if you can figure this out yourself, the two of you wouldn’t be the embodiment of every sad angsty book ever written.”

“it’s our way of coping with things.” the words sounded fake even to jaemin’s own ears.

“no,” doyoung deadpanned, “don’t fuck around with me.” he hissed, “you know she cries every time you give her unwanted insults. let’s count how many times i ran into her, sometimes quite literally, in the hallway with her crying. one, the day you two got lost in the woods. two, when you were passed out and unresponsive, three, a few days after you woke up and weren’t talking to her, four, literally yesterday after you basically told her she was unlovable.” doyoung held up his fingers mockingly and it felt like jaemin had just been slapped in the face. “four times, na jaemin. four times you fucked up, four times y/n felt worthless, four times more than needed. four times. thats more than anything that happened in the last 16 years of your friendship. four times in less than a month. get your shit together, jaemin.” doyoung snapped, and spun around on his heel. jaemin felt like everyone was against him at this point. 

a week passes and hey, what did you know? some improvement was showing. you and jaemin could hold, an (albeit very awkward, but still) a conversation. it was a relief to you, but you were slightly suspicious of him. jaemin still couldn’t look you in the eyes, glancing away or inspecting his nails. but you couldn’t ask anymore of him, he went from straight out ignoring you, to asking how your day went. jaemin sent you a small smile, fiddling in his seat. 

“how… how are you?” jaemin asked, glancing at your features shyly. you smiled, though it felt more forced than genuine. 

“i’m good. have you been getting better?”

“well, you know. not really,” jaemin shrugged, not looking at you, “it hasn’t been getting worse either, though.”

you ignored the way jaemin was pointedly avoiding your gaze and offered a half smile you didn't really mean, “the weather isn’t very good today, is it?” the weather hadn’t been really good for the past week or so. even if you weren’t spending every waking (and sleeping) moment by jaemin’s side, you wouldn’t have been able to go out of the castle. the relentless rain pouring down on the windows made sure of that.

“y/n, i still think we have to talk.” jaemin’s expression turned serious, “i know i’ve been a dick these few weeks, and i’m not even going to try excusing myself for that. but i want you to know that no matter what, i still treasure you a lot as my best friend. i think i just need time - okay, admittedly we haven’t got very much of that left, about a week and a half or so, but i struggle with feelings. i really struggle a lot and it’s overwhelming and i miss you so much, i miss talking to you not-awkwardly and i want our old relationship back.”

you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry again, because god knows you’ve cried too much. “okay then,” you laughed lightly, “if you’re going to make this a deep sentimental talk, just know that i’m willing to wait for you for as long as you need. sadly this isn’t up to me.”

jaemin remained silent for a bit, taking in what you just said. when he spoke again, you were shocked. “do you think i love you?”

you cocked your head, “what i think doesn’t matter. the question is what do you think?”

“i want to know what you think.”

knowing he wasn’t going to let you go until you told him so, you sighed, “i think you do.”

“platonically or romantically?”

“my father wants my help in the kitchens, your highness. i’ll see you later.”

it was raining again, and you didn’t show up in his room like normal. jaemin was worried, and he got out of his bed clumsily, grabbing a cane, which he winced at. he looked like an old man with it. drawing back the heavy velvet curtains, the glass of his widow was covered in water droplets, all racing to the window sill. jaemin spotted you running around the courtyard, mouth open with a muted laugh and eyes sparkling even though you were soaked to the skin. jaemin found himself smiling, watching you with fond eyes. his senses kicked in, and he realized. he was truly, and utterly, with every fiber of his being, every cell in his body, in love with you. with his best friend. with the person who stuck by him all these years. who loved all his flaws and imperfections. he, na jaemin, second prince in line, never to sit on the throne (he didn’t mind that part), was in love with you. a cook's daughter, a commoner, but most importantly, his soulmate. 

when you came inside, your teeth were chattering and you were shivering all over, but it was the happiest you’d felt in a while. nothing was better than dancing in the rain, really, except dancing in the rain with jaemin. that now… that was a hundred times better, but na jaemin was sick, so you’d have to forgo that. practically waltzing into jaemin’s room, you grinned at him, your good mood making you forget all the awkwardness. he was just your best friend, your best friend of so many years. awkwardness who?

“jaems!” it might have been the prior realization of love making jaemin completely disregard any tension that might have been between the two of you earlier, but he grinned back at you just as happily as you’d greeted him, “y/n!” he frowned, pretending he hadn’t been watching you from his window just a few minutes prior because that was borderline creepy, “why are you all wet?”

“i danced in the rain. oh god, jaemin, do you remember that time when we were dancing together in the rain and then decided to use a banana leaf as an umbrella but we got wet anyway? and then-” 

“and then,” jaemin picked up seamlessly from where you left off, the grin not disappearing, “doyoung hyung came to check on us because he was scared we’d catch colds from running around in the rain all day. then we slipped and fell into the mud, splashing him all over.”

you laughed, a light tinkling sound that reminded jaemin again of why he loved you, “i swear the mud mask made his skin better.”

jaemin practically screeched with laughter, “you mean you’ve been looking at my brother’s skin?”

the overwhelming love and affection you felt for your best friend in that moment, both platonically and romantically, made you throw your arms around him, instantly soaking him through with your wet clothes. somehow, the two of you ended up sprawled on his bed. 

“you know what? i love you.” jaemin sighed, snuggling into your embrace. your ears burned red. 

“you.. you what?” you asked timidly. you really hoped jaemin said what you thought he said. jaemin smiled, leaning back more, adjusting the position the two of you were in. you now were snuggled into his chest, sighing as you felt your eyelids droop. jaemin chuckled lowly, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“i’ll be here when you wake up.” he whispered softly. you fell asleep, mind calm for once. 

“jaemin- okay, you can explain why y/n’s soaking your bedsheets through and the both of you are completely drenched in rainwater first,” doyoung arched an eyebrow, “have y’all finally gotten your shit together?”

“i think i love her, hyung,” jaemin’s arm curled protectively around you, “really.”

doyoung clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval, “you think? be sure of it, jaems. i’ve practically raised the two of you and watched you grow up, and now you say you only think you love her?”

“i love her.” jaemin struggled to hold back the laugh that was threatening to spill out of his chest. “i love her!” he repeated again, louder this time. seeing the finger doyoung had to his lips, he quietened down to prevent waking you up, “thank you, hyung. for knocking some sense into me.”

doyoung smiled, “anytime. it’s my job, after all. now, i think you two need some alone time. see you at dinner, i truly doubt you’ll still be sick.”

you were awakened by the sound of the door closing. rubbing your eyes tiredly, you looked around, disoriented, “did someone come in?”

“it’s nothing, y/n. just a servant. sleep, i love you.”

you yawned, “i love you too.” and you snuggled back under the covers with him, acting like it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

“hey,” jaemin whispered in your ear, waking you up gently, “i hate to have to wake you up, but dinner’s in a few. my parents want to see you too, apparently.”

you blinked the sleep away from your eyes, looking at his smiling face. waking up to jaemin’s smile was something you could get used to, you thought. “what?”

“i said, we have to go get ready for dinner. you too, yes, main banquet hall, my parents want to see you.”

your mouth dropped open, all thoughts of sleep gone, “i don’t have clothes suitable for a fancy dinner!”

“oh yes you do. wear that yellow dress with the sunflowers.”

“is that formal enough?”

“y/n, like, you’ve literally talked to my parents so many times. they watched you grow up. they’re not so different from doyoung and i.”

“but this is the first time meeting them as your girlfriend!” oh god, did you really just say that? you cringed inwardly. you hadn’t even put a label on the relationship yet. rushing to make amends, you stuttered out, “soulmate. i mean soulmate.”

“you’ve always been my soulmate. as for girlfriend, well, you can be if you want to, but we have explaining to do. now move! the entire bed is wet!”

with strength a sick person shouldn’t possess, jaemin threw you out of his bed playfully. you looked up in shock and happiness, “you’re well again! you’re not sick anymore!”

jaemin grinned down at you from his bed, “we realised our love. see you in twenty, adios, au revoir, zaijian, sayonara!” yelling at the top of his lungs, he pushed you out of his room and slammed the door, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you were flying (figuratively, of course), drunk on the sentiments of finally realising your feelings for your best friend and soulmate.

growing up in the castle had taught you some things about manners, especially when the queen insisted you attend some etiquette lessons together with jaemin (to keep him in check, she’d said). dropping into a deep curtsey in front of the royal family, you rose again when the king placed a warm hand on your shoulder, “get up, y/n. we’re all family here, there’s not need for such formalities. you never really did those before either.”

“i was eight and didn’t know much about manners,” you protested lightly as he steered you into your seat beside jaemin, then taking his own at the head of the table - the king’s seat.

you ate in silence and as fast as you could without being rude. nobody made a move to break the silence, so you sat and waited until the last of the plates had been cleared away by the servants, then leaned forward, “if it isn’t rude to ask, may i know why i’ve suddenly been called here for dinner?”

the queen smiled kindly at you, “of course not, dear. well, today we have two announcements to make, one of which concerns you.” she glanced at the king, who inclined his head at her with a smile as if to say “the floor is all yours, dear.” the queen turned back to you, and seeing the dying rays of last light hit her face, you were again reminded of how beautiful the queen was. “firstly, about doyoung. now, we all know that my dear son here is turning twenty one in a month’s time and has finished his education. and so, doyoung, my son, your father has decided to pass on the kingdom to you. the announcement to the people will happen in a few days’ time, if you agree, and the coronation shall be held on your birthday. you are a much beloved crown prince, and i am sure the news of your coronation will delight the kingdom. i do hope you accept. so,” she practically glowed with pride, staring at the shell-shocked prince, “do you?”

“it would be an honor, mother. but didn’t father say he enjoyed being king?” doyoung, the rightful heir to the throne and the one who’d been trained for this his entire life, looked shocked, to say the least. you couldn’t blame him; it must’ve felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“your mother and i have long been dreaming of a proper honeymoon in the carribean. away from the eyes of the public,” his father’s voice boomed encouragingly.

“then yes, i accept,” doyoung’s eyes were shining with tears and you really hoped he wasn’t about to cry. knowing him, once he started crying, he wouldn’t stop and that would really… kill the mood. 

“cheers to king doyoung,” jaemin raised his glass of juice (seventeen is not of a legal age to consume alcohol) to the sky, looking elated for his brother, “and for heaven’s sake, king doyoung, don’t cry!”

doyoung sniffled a little, holding his own goblet of wine to his brother’s, “i won’t cry! thank you so much!”

“congratulations,” you grinned at doyoung, who’d been just as much your elder brother all these years as he’d been jaemin’s. just in the past month, he’d slapped the two of you so hard to get your shit together, and he should honestly be crowned fairy godmother of the year. except that he wasn’t old, didn’t have white hair pulled up into a bun, and (sadly) didn’t own wings.

“now for our second announcement. doyoung’s explained everything to us already, i hope you don’t mind.” doyoung grinned guiltily at you over the table - honestly! like he’d done anything wrong! “you’re obviously too young for marriage, but y/n, your parents, whom i’ve just talked to, and us - we give you all our blessings. let this relationship prosper!”

jaemin squeezed your hand in his assuringly with a victorious smile like he’d known all along that this would’ve happened. you choked back a sob of your own, “thank you! thank you so much.”

“we’ve never known that soulmates existed, but now that we do know, there isn’t a truer pair than you and y/n,” she addressed jaemin, “treat her well.”

“i swear, mother, you love her more than you love me,” jaemin half-groaned, ignoring his mother’s angelic smile and reply (“i do not! i merely prefer to be around her.”)

“to the new king and couple!” jaemin’s father raised his goblet for another cheer, and you downed your drink in one gulp. tilting your head to grin at jaemin, you thought there really couldn’t be any happier moment in the world.

©danishmiilk, 2020. ©astroboy-lele, 2020.

[bored-storyteller]

Dear Anon, sorry if I can't do the screen of your request :3 anyway I hope you like it

Warning: mention of violence and blood (nothing too bloody I think)

45- Tokyo Ghoul, Uta x human!Reader

“Natural”

That's your favorite time of the day. When you sit at the table in the hot cafeteria, with the steam of the sweet boiling drink in your nostrils, the warmth of the discreetly attended but not too noisy environment and your faithful sketchbook open on the polished wooden shelf. The first blank page available looks at you, waiting to become your world, your dreams.

You are particularly lucky today; he is there.

When you entered he was already sitting at the bar, sipping a black coffee. He doesn't come every day, nor does he always arrive at the same time, but when you find him you know he will stay a long time.

You don't know his name - or at least you shouldn't know, it's not nice to overhear conversations - you don't know who he is, you just know that the first time something entered him it made you hold your breath. You don't even know what has caused you so much upset at a simple glance; it's not his extravagant style, it's not his piercings or his intricate tattoos. They are not even his strange and sometimes scary eyes. They are not those caressing, sweet and persuasive ways with which he seems to behave as usual, and not even the calm ironic words he occasionally addresses to the one who serves behind the counter. No, it's none of this, or maybe it's all this, but you don't know it, you can't understand it.

Today he smiled at you. The place wasn't too crowded, and his look had turned to you at the chirping of the bell. How bizarre as a face that threatens so much aggression it is capable of such delicacy.

You wonder if he knows how much your eyes touch him every time you meet him. Maybe yes, but he doesn't really care.

His decorated fingers are absent-mindedly tucked into the handle of the cup, his hair today is gathered in a rather messy half-ponytail. You don't know if he did it on purpose or if he just didn't pay much attention to it.

For a second you get lost following his profile line. His lips are slightly parted, he is listening.

You choose to seize the moment, and your freshly sharpened pencil glides over the slightly textured paper, sketching indefinite sketches. You have plenty of time to improve them.

You don't really remember since you started drawing Uta - as the man in the coffee shop calls him, and for you he is the only reference you can rely on - only, suddenly the block that had taken possession of your artistic skills was suddenly loose. Whoever that man was, you wanted to draw him.

From there, his face started to appear more and more often in your drawings, and from there he started to inspire you, he started to make you imagine.

"Beautiful, he is really beautiful." You thought immediately, and at the beginning it was nothing more. Then, slowly, over time that "beautiful" had extended beyond his physical boundary, also touching his attitude, his voice, his expressions.

You never really talked to him - out of shyness, or maybe not to break that magic - but it's not important. That's okay, you've started to get attached to him, you've begun to hope that he can be okay, that he can be happy, and it doesn't matter who he is or who he isn't. His mere presence has given you so much.

Today it is a coincidence that you and he get up at the same time from your respective seats. He surely didn't notice, and neither did you, as you put your sketchbook back in your bag.

It is not rush hour, and even if you are far away you can see him well. He is so calm, while he keeps his balance clinging effortlessly to the steel tube. His eyes look beyond the glass, although there is little to see. But maybe they see much more? You wonder what he is thinking, what can a person like him think? Who knows how he lives, you wouldn't even know how to attribute a precise age to him.

He is quicker than you to get out, and you are still settling your bill. It's not like you want to chase him, you're not a stalker or a maniac, but he's right in front of you. It is a coincidence. It is also a coincidence when he takes the subway with you.

Your stop passes by, and this time it is no coincidence.

Shinjuku is his station, apparently. Yes, it suits him, it's a suitable environment for him, at least you think. The frenetic lights and noises make the neighborhood alive even in the evening dusk. It is not a bad place to pass the time, it is full of attractions, activities and culture.

You feel a bit dirty following him like this, but it's not something you can really command. You just want to know who he is, your muse. You would like to be close to him, you would like to ask him questions, but at the same time you are afraid. You are afraid of seeing him disappear, scared of you. Who will fill your blank pages if he leaves? But how come you could justify your behavior towards him? Would he ever understand the beauty he represents for your artist eyes?

When he disappears among the people it's not that big of a problem. You don't want to interfere in his business, after all you just wanted to have him close a little longer, at least close to your eyes.

But even if you didn't see him anymore, you didn't regret having extended your trip a little. Tokyo could inspire an artist more than people thought, and your sketchbook is back in your hands, to sketch what came to you - and from time to time to look back at that face that is taking shape more and more. below the details you have come to know by now.

There, in that district of the capital, if you take enough alleys and go down enough steps, you can reach hidden areas away from the eyes of tourists. Sure, they might seem insignificant and at times creepy, but for someone like you the small traditional shop on the corner, or the writing on the wall that would be poorly tolerated in the city center, has such a particular charm, so intense that it makes you imagine stories, and eyes that never existed.

And it is while the graphite of your pencil draws more or less regular shadows on a creature that looks so much like that tabby cat looking for food in the alley, that something makes your blood run cold.

A cry, a cry of terror. It was sharp, scratchy, but immediately suffocated, or rather, broken.

And it is then that looking up to the sky you see the night. It is not the case for someone like you to be in those areas with darkness that has fallen.

And that's why you don't bother thinking about that scream, you just think about going back through those alleys, and as quickly as possible.

But for you the world is bigger than for any human being, and your feet stop, your breath freezes in your chest.

There is no light, you are alone, but taking refuge behind the wall like a mouse, your eyes too used to observing see it immediately.

Him. It's him. Him, and his eyes light up hot. In the light glow of the moon and the flickering artificial lights you can see blood-colored veins that like roots mark his nocturnal sclera up to affect the pale skin.

His arms always dyed with black weaves are now covered in red, as are his hungry lips, his face up to his nose.

You know perfectly well what is happening, you know that that mass of flesh at his feet is a man he has just killed, to devour him.

You know what he is, and it scares you. How could it not? Yet it is precisely that fear that inspires you, that makes you take the figure of him in the dim light. As many details as possible are frantically marked on the paper, everything you need to remember.

"Beautiful" is everything your confused and terrified mind can think as you start running unaware of the fact that he saw you - or rather, he smelled you -, but luckily for you too late. . . .

"I don't know anything about it."

You don't know if actually the case those investigators are investigating is actually the killing - or the post-killing - you witnessed, but it doesn't really matter. Your words come out with such an ease that you are amazed too.

You wonder which god is angry with you for letting you cross their path and their eyes, is it your punishment for asking for help?

Maybe wandering around the back streets of Shinjuku makes you suspicious? Probably. But it doesn't matter, you really don't know anything. You are ready to forget everything in order to protect him. You can not miss it. He is your subject, your art.

You hold your sketchbook to your chest, protective.

"I didn't know there were ghouls in the area… is it really that dangerous?" It's not that you like to lie, but the more you can mislead those people, the more you can avoid danger to him, so don't blame yourself. It's the right thing, it's right that he has the chance to live.

"We don't have precise information, but it would be better not to wander alone in such isolated places, especially if the day is ending."

Looking up at the sky you realize that the sky is slowly turning on the evening colors. Who knows what you really expected. Were you seriously hoping to find him? Maybe Shinjuku was just a stop for him that day. Or maybe you are the cause why you don't come across him anymore, not even at the cafeteria.

“Now that I know, I'll try to be careful. I'll finish quickly and go home right away. "

The man in front of you smiles, his eyes scan the surroundings come to make sure you are safe: "Well, if you see something strange, even a suspicious trace, please contact us."

You agree. He gives you the impression of a good-hearted man, that agent, and you silently thank him as he and his companions walk away from you.

The world is cruel. It is cruel, but you don't even know in what respect, because it can be so cruel and so generous at the same time. So kind and so unfair.

And while in solitude your free mind wanders among those thoughts, something makes you quickly return to the ground, rushes you, crushes you.

A stabbing pain takes you to the right side of your body, like a burning fire throbs and quivers in your torn muscles, starting from the hollow between the neck and shoulder.

You would scream, but you are prevented, because a cold hand presses on your lips forcefully.

You don't really think about what's happening, you don't have time to think. All you can do is wriggle desperately, even though the strength holding you back is far superior to yours.

That pain repeats itself, more overwhelming on the open wound, and this time you can at least turn around in the arms of torture. And everything stops.

His beautiful face, the face you searched for so intensely is there, a few inches from yours. His eyes look at you, they scan you. His tongue licks your blood and his arms tighten you against him to keep you from running away.

Have you ever had him so close? Do not you think. You don't think he has ever looked at you as directly as he is doing right now.

But you don't have time, you have no way of thinking. The blood slips away, your eyesight darkens and your body loses sensitivity with every passing second.

The world is so kind to grant you that closeness, and so cruel to give you so little time to enjoy what you have so desired.

"Beautiful ..." You manage to murmur, and maybe that's really all you want to tell him. Your hand rests cold and delicate on his face, touching his pale cheek. His night-colored tuft lightly tickles your numb knuckles, and his confused gaze is the last thing you see. . . .

How long hadn't anyone caressed him like that? Had anyone ever caressed him like that?

Uta hadn't really looked for you, even though he recognized you, for some reason he just avoided meeting you again. It was the riskiest choice for him, yet he had subconsciously decided to give you that chance, to the little artist in the coffee shop.

But you were there, so close to him, in his domain. He had smelled you, so what could he do?

Yet you weren't behaving like everyone else. He didn't believe he could see such warmth in human eyes, ready to give in to forced sleep, and the bite had been held back. He still feels the sweetness and tenderness of your flesh running down his throat, but he has held back from giving you the coup de grace. A sign of respect for an artist like him? Or just too risky curiosity?

And your hand moved away from him too soon, slumping along his arm with a dead weight.

From your chest your black-covered notebook slips to the ground, you had held it tight all the time despite your injured shoulder.

His pupils scrutinize the object with distrust and curiosity. Probably he should kill you before he feels free to browse, yet now he is there, bent over. His long moon fingers and night-colored interlacing turn the pages with a light and quick gesture.

There are drawings of animals, people, objects. You're good, really good, he likes your style.

But that is not all. He could have foreseen it, he could have suspected since your eyes touched him so much, yet it was as if in his vision this was impossible. Despite this impossibility, one's face looks at him, and turning the page it is still there, only from another point of view. There are drawings of him in every perspective, with expressions that not even he realizes he has - probably no one has ever noticed -; some portraits are detailed, some are colored, some are just sketches that, despite everything, reflect him, while still others are started and never finished, deleted and thrown away as errors.

He is really beautiful.

You even wrote it down. You have written a lot, you have taken note of the details of him.

Uta doesn't know how he actually feels. How is he feeling? He feels a shyness on him that is not his own. Is it embarrassment? Maybe, in part. In part it's confusion, and in part ... how long hasn't someone considered him with the tenderness with which you did? You had watched him from afar for so long, and so intensely.

He obviously understood your interest, every time he greeted you cordially it was a confirmation, but he didn't think there was such a stupid sincerity in your feelings.

As he continues to turn the cream-colored pages, he notices that some pages are torn. He doesn't really give weight to them, he also does it when a work of his does not satisfy him, despite your mistakes being present several times in the notebook.

The last page is still him, he is smiling. He wonders if he really smiles like that. He looks really handsome, and he doesn't know if he's real or your eyes have affected that image to make his face so kind and serene.

A soft sigh blows between his lips as he closes your treasure. Yet, before he can complete the action, something blocks him.

On the bottom, on the hard cover, the internal part reproduces the black of the external facade. He probably wouldn't have noticed anything strange if his eye wasn't used to being attentive.

Sticking his fingers into the crack under that black, he manages to retrieve a slightly protruding sheet, one of the sheets you tore.

On paper, the dark traces form his figure again, but this time something is different. He is different.

He is a ghoul in that drawing. He is bent over his victim, his placid face stained with blood, like his arms. He is imposing above the figure you have represented in the shadow.

Yet despite this, he is not ugly or cruel. You made it beautiful anyway, natural. Yes, you simply grasped his nature, you grasped the beauty in his nature and brought it back to paper, as a work of art.

It's not finished yet, his critical eye saw it well. Maybe that's why you hid it? Why were you dying to complete it during your days, to always have it with you, but were you afraid it would be discovered? Did you tear up so many pages for this? To deprive prying eyes of discovering his nature through your drawings?

Honestly, were you really protecting him, in your own way?

He had distractedly heard you talking to the Doves, and hadn't given it any weight - always because it was impossible, in his eyes - but now, in front of himself so sweetly admired by your shy eyes, he can't help admitting that something it moves in his stomach, like agitated butterflies.

Perhaps it is the interest in having been made a work of art by such skilled hands, or a sense of esteem that overwhelms him when he realizes that he is in front of a skilled artist, or perhaps, deep down, it is a simple motion of affection he can't help but feel for amazing human beings like you. Even while he was killing you, you didn't speak out against him. You are stranger than Tsugumi.

Uta may be crazy, but he is not insensitive, on the contrary, it is his sensitivity that makes him so uncomfortable in the world.

He feels you tremble and suddenly remembers he has you in his arms. He hadn't noticed that he had kept you with such care; your lifeless head, resting on his chest, rises and falls to the rhythm of his breaths.

Look at your suffering face, in his lap you are getting colder and colder and the nectarine blood continues to dirty both your clothes and his.

You can die, but the wounds he inflicted on you are not fatal in themselves - luckily -.

Will you forgive him for tasting your body? Probably yes. He doesn't know you, but he has already understood you, and now he wants to understand more. . . .

The warmth envelops you, all you perceive is a warm and placid relief.

Your clouded mind only asks you one question: "Are you dead?"

You don't really know why you should be, you just know that there is that possibility. Yet, slowly, a physicality settles on you, making you return to earth, away from the world of ideas.

Your fingers barely move and your sensitivity feels warmth and softness. The shoulder burns.

Your eyelids vibrate before venturing to lift again wondering if you really are living.

The light is dim, the environment is unfamiliar to you and yet you perceive something you know, even if you don't really know what it is. A sensation? A smell?

"Hey…"

A gentle, light, friendly voice. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical of him, but what does it matter to you? You're probably dreaming, he really killed you and that's your hell. It's not that bad if you can spend your pains admiring him.

His blood-colored and strawberry-colored eyes scan you attentively, there is no threat in his features, only a barely hinted smile, a smile that you adore, and a greeting from him that for some reason makes your rhythm pick up again your heart: "Good morning."