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#It's a fun way of giving kids something magical to look forward to
halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months
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Hal, i can't say how happy i am to see you hit such a big number, i've been following you since the beggining and it's so amazing to see this community grow, i love how everyone that interacts is so kind and overall amazing, you deserve that and much more, and i hope things in your personal life keep getting better!! ❤
For the event, i would like to request, if possible, a small drabble of Keegan with a daughter, it can be anything, really! I'm a single mom expecting a baby, and i just need to see a strong military man caring for a child, all your other parent fics just hit the hard in the feelings, so i wanted to see my favorite in this prompt too!
—Hold Her Close
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Keegan cares for his young daughter.] ❞
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He holds her carefully as she sits on the back of his neck, hands firm on her legs as they dangle around his shoulders with their tiny little shoes. The child was giggling, no more than seven, as her hands tangled in the black locks of Keegan’s hair and pulled without any real strength; her eyes stared at all the sights to be seen. 
It was early at Fort Santa Monica, so early the mist was still in the air and the chill caused the protective father to suit his daughter into a jacket that puffed around her frame. She’d been crying last night, and rather than ask her to try and fall asleep again, he’d gone on his morning run with some company. It didn’t bother him, of course. 
She was yours and his daughter—she could never bother him for as long as he lived. 
“Having fun up there?” He grunts out, blue eyes shifting up as the child giggles out a small ‘yep,’ and returns to gazing around with glittering eyes. She was so tiny, he thought to himself. So easy to pick up and infect those little eyes with wonder. Everything down to the way the dew looked in the grass was a foreign world to her—mixed with magic and innocence he never wanted to see gone. 
“Which way, Sunshine?” Keegan asks, blinking forward at the split in the sidewalk; left or right?
“That way,” her pudgy hand points, and booted feet obey without question. Left it was. 
The soldier hums and puffs out a breath of condensation into the air, t-shirt and running shorts swaying around him. 
“If you get cold,” he utters, “you tell me, okay?” 
“Okay!” Keegan pushes down a smile, blue eyes so soft you could mistake it for dyed room-temperature butter. While he wouldn’t get the workout he had intended in the brightening sun of the morning, with the sound of waves lapping in the air and the scent of his sweat dripping off his nostrils, he’d still enjoy this. 
“Can we get hot cocoa?” A hand slaps his forehead and he chuffs a laugh, flinching slightly at the tiny connection of skin. 
“Careful, Kid,” the soldier mutters but nods as his daughter's giggles make his chest swell. Damn him, he was done for the moment he’d seen her in the NICU. “Yeah, fine, we can get some hot cocoa. You know something though?”
His daughter's face is above his as he leans his neck back, looking up into her bright face. She blinks, smiling wide.
“What?”
“You’re gonna have to give me a kiss first, Sweetheart.” 
“Ew!” She laughs, and Keegan holds her body still as it moves all around in her childish delight, legs kicking out as the man laughs under his breath. 
“C’mon,” he huffs, “nothing for your Old Man? I’m hurt. You give Riley kisses on the nose all the time.”
She’s still laughing, holding onto his head. Keegan decides there’s never been a more perfect sound. Without another word, a little smooch is pressed into his hairline, an overdramatic ‘mwah’ sounding off with a raise of hands upwards. 
He beams, eyes crinkling and lips pulled back with a wide smile as he shakes his head in amusement. Moving his face forward, the normally stoic soldier sighs and continues on, his daughter on his shoulders and his heart full. 
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fatuismooches · 2 years
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Hello! I wanted to say i absolutely LOVE your writing about the Fatui, but i was wondering how the Fatui would be with a (def crazy) younger sibling around 10-11 years old possibly??
By crazy they could be participating into the same activities as their older siblings but stay away from the most bloody stuff bc they aren't allowed to bc of their sibling (we love an overprotective fictional older sibling❤️).
Idk why wanna see the younger sibling being so cute to all of the Harbingers and loyal to their empress but at the same time not hesitating to send an order to kill someone.
ALSO WHAT ABOUT TIME REVERSING MAGIC?? LIKEEEE IT SOUNDS FUN BUT YOU DECIDE ❤️❤️❤️
ilysm pls take care😭❤️
♡ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡
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synopsis: Due to your craziness, you had trouble fitting in with most kids your age. Not to worry, you have your Harbinger family to take care of you now!
includes: all harbingers w/ gn! reader
notes: Thank you, you're so sweet! I really love the idea of the Harbingers having this instinct to protect their mischievous, always getting into crazy trouble little sibling.
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The first time the Harbingers heard of you was when they found out a whole camp of Fatui members was wiped out. Not by the Traveler, or an opposing military force, but by a child. Not even a teenager, but a little kid. Apparently, you had gotten caught stealing food from the camp and beat everyone up so you wouldn’t get arrested. What was more surprising was that this wasn't the first time you looted a camp. You had poor sneaking skills but you always dispatched the soldiers quickly before anyone got there. Besides the fact that they had to do something about this, the Harbingers were actually quite interested in you. It wasn’t every day you came across a child so much stronger than a group of soldiers.
It wasn’t hard to find out where you’d raid next, and a group of them lay in wait for your arrival. Soon enough, there you were apprehended by one of them, and you could hear them speaking about taking you back somewhere, and other big words you didn’t understand. The person wasn’t applying too much pressure on you. Well, they’d be wrong to underestimate you! You were the strongest kid in Snezhnaya!
You wiggled your arm up forward, but they didn’t pay much attention to you. In your hand, you gripped a small rock and eyed the explosive barrels near you. You think one of them noticed, but it was too late. With a sharp flick, it dove smack into the red barrel, and debris and mess went flying everywhere. The person holding you down had to release a bit to take cover from the explosion and you immediately bolted from there.
You had to be completely crazy to pull a stunt like that. You could have gotten injured - or worse!
You were giddy with excitement and adrenaline after that. You kind of gathered that you were quite different from other kids, but oh well. You made it as far as you could, but your legs were too short for you to run anywhere quickly. So your little plan was ruined when you promptly ran smack into an iron wall. That iron wall was the tallest man you’ve ever seen, and it hurt your neck to look up that high.
The next thing you knew, you woke up in the fluffiest bed ever, surrounded by pillows and cute plushies.
Pierro:
Admires your dedication to the Tsaritsa and all the Harbingers, but is stern in his decision to keep you away from the gory stuff. Proper soldiers must be level head and calm, Pierro says, which you are not. To keep you at bay, he lets you partake in some Fatui duties that don’t involve the cruelty aspect. (Introduces you to paperwork, I guess…) He’s not really sure how to deal with you… he’s used to the utmost respect everyone else gives him due to his status. But you? There are no rules in your world and you hang off his shoulder and fiddle with his mask. Also, the one who has to explain to you that no, you cannot go and try to kill someone for annoying you. When you try to act cute to try and get things to go your way, he thinks it’s endearing but it’s not working on Pierro!
Capitano:
Concerned for you, to be honest. Yes, you may be strong, but throwing yourself headfirst into these dangerous situations? You’re still so small, fragile, tiny… there are too many things that could go wrong. Every time you do even attempt something crazy, he is there, at your side, preventing it. Takes the role of your silent protector a lot more seriously than normal, simply because he doesn’t want you to get hurt because of your antics. Out of everyone he forbids you from engaging in any bloody activity the most. He wants you to do some normal kid stuff, but unfortunately, he himself has problems knowing what exactly that entails. Sits at his desk awkwardly while he watches you bounce off the walls.
Capitano thinks it’s cute when you come up with all these conspiracy theories about what’s under his helmet. At one point he started writing down everything you guessed and now a lot of pages have been filled up. He looks at it whenever he needs something to boost his mood. Is initially reluctant to fulfill your request of “throwing you up into the air and catching you” but he does it quite often because of how much you laugh. And it keeps you from going and fighting random people, at least.
Columbina:
She likes you a lot! Columbina is kinda crazy too, so you two get along like two peas in a pod. Only thing is she wants you to be able to relax too. Whenever you want to go out on some bloody mission, she’ll just hold you hostage (in a friendly way) and fall asleep with you kinda trapped there so you just fall asleep too. I don’t know why, but I think Columbina likes to sing a song about death when she’s killing someone. You unfortunately pick up on this.
Columbina’s the kind of person to cover your eyes whenever something non-child-friendly is happening. Also adores whenever you have your cute moments. I feel like she helps you choose your outfit when you declare that you’ll be a Harbinger one day too. She jumps on this opportunity to dress you up in pretty clothes. I feel like she can also switch from happy to deadly quickly so she can understand how you are.
Dottore:
Oh no… The Harbingers endeavor to keep the two of you apart to the best of their ability because you’re both just menaces. Dottore loves your craziness, he probably even encourages it sometimes to see how far you’ll go. You start adopting your own maniacal laugh like Dottore and he is so proud. If you’re willing, he’ll start going on about these crazy science topics and theories and you’re like - I’m just a kid… a crazy one, but still a kid who can’t comprehend all that… Also finds it highly amusing that Fatui recruits are terrified of you.
Even so, you’re still a kid so he doesn’t want you to get too much into it. If he sees you acting a bit too much crazy, he’ll stop you. He likes to help you tinker with stuff and build things. Thinks of you as his little minion assistant and secretly cherishes you a lot. Not gonna lie though, if you want someone dead, he’ll probably indulge you. He’s not very sane either…
Pulcinella:
He has seen his fair share of youngsters and even though he’s never met anyone like you, he still knows how to deal with you. I just know he can scold you to the point you feel bad for doing crazy things all the time. But then he does a big sigh and lets you off the hook “this time only.” Papanella’s the kinda guy to get you those color-by-number books and crayons and watch you color, finds it amusing when you don’t even use the right colors the book tells you to use. Encourages your creativity, in fact. Is touched when you give him a poorly kid-drawn picture of your Harbinger family. Puts it on one of the walls in Zapolyarny Palace so everyone can admire it.
Every time you try to get involved in the crazy bloody stuff, he just subtly tries to lure you with some different activities. Thinks it’s very important to have a nurturing childhood. Actually, he just bought this new brand of cookies to bake… he’s gonna need a helper, you know? Pulcinella’s probably successful with this multiple times, hanging out with grandpa is the best. (Probably tells you stories of his younger glory days.) Also lets you play with his cane and chuckles when you imitate him.
Scaramouche:
For some reason, you thought he’d be a good role model because you’ve seen him electrocute people, and were like ‘Hey I wanna do that too!” Scaramouche initially tells you to stop following him around but he still can’t help but have a soft spot for you. When you stole his hat and mimicked his laugh he gave up all attempts of trying to ignore you. Scaramouche’s another one who doesn’t mind the craziness but he prefers to let you not do that since he doesn’t want to see you get hurt. He actually thinks it’s amusing when you manage to outwit grown adults. Surprisingly, he still likes it when you act your age. His tone is noticeably gentler with you and he likes to watch over you and be your hidden protector. Also gives you random advice so you can look out for yourself in this world.
Arlecchino:
She has come across all kinds of kids in her orphanage. Shy and introverted ones, extroverted ones eager to prove themselves. But she has never come across one like you, which puts her a bit at a loss of what to do with you, because her normal disciplining is not working. Despite her efforts to hide it, all the other kids can see you’re definitely her favorite, and often flock around you to pester you with questions. A lot of them like to watch you do air punches and kicks so the orphanage is often lively now.
I can see Arlecchino being pretty overprotective of you, simply because she’s seen a lot of kids get hurt due to carelessness and mistakes so she frequently makes sure you’re not alone. In return, she’ll let you carry on for however long about anything you want. She’s a very good listener and has a good memory.
La Signora:
The one who has the urge to protect you from all horrors of this world the most. She lost her lover and her own humanity a long time ago, and to think about losing you brings her pain. Therefore, she’d much rather have you by her side as she yells at the new recruits rather than out in the world fighting people. There’s not much she can do about the craziness, but she tries to explain to you not to get into too much danger. You don’t know who you could lose, or what happens when someone loses you. You don’t understand much, but La Signora looks solemn and sad during these moments, so you tone down a bit and just lay in her lap while she strokes your hair. Likes to dress you up and do pretty hairstyles, eat good food, and generally do fun stuff with you. You should enjoy life for what it is while you can.
Pantalone:
Still spoils the hell out of you. He doesn’t know your backstory or childhood but he assumes it must not be good because of how you are now, which is something Pantalone can relate to a lot. So a lot of the time, he just spoils you, enough to forget about anything else. Often times he likes to sit there and watch you open all of your gifts. Pantalone stays in Snezhnaya most of the time and uses his experience to convince you to stay with him instead of trying to go out into danger. Instead teaches you accounting business and becomes your economics teacher so you can assist him (it doesn’t work very well.)
Sandrone:
She turns people into puppets and robots, so Sandrone can’t comment much on how you are, but she’s still gonna stop you from going out and committing mischievous acts. The kind of sibling who has her Automatons stand guard at every possible exit, even the windows, to prevent you from sneaking out and trying to go on a mission with everyone else. When you come back all cute and pouty, complaining about how strict she is, she just lets her other robots soothe you until you forget about it.
Childe:
In a way, you remind him of how he was when he was a kid. Childe doesn’t think he was as crazy as you though, and he did have a normal childhood before he fell into the Abyss, but he knows about the insatiable urge for battle and fighting. So he understands how you are a lot. The only thing is that he doesn’t want you to grow up into a killing machine like him. So he tries his best to expose you to normal kid things, and keep you away from all the bloody and gory stuff. Even when you beg him to let you come on a mission with him, or even to go clean up some Treasure Hoarders, he’ll say no every time since he really doesn’t want the image of him in blood etched into your mind.
He really loves when you get all adorable with him. You asking him to tell you a story? He’s buying all the bedtime story books across Teyvat and reading you to sleep every day. When he makes you meals and you get all pouty and pick out all the vegetables? He thinks it's so sweet and already considers you part of his family. But then you give him whiplash when you’re the first to offer to take out a target. Childe has already accepted that you’re not going to change your crazy tendencies, but he’s made it his responsibility to preserve your innocence and childhood, if only a little bit.
Time Reversing Magic:
When you told them you could reverse time, none of them really took you seriously. After all, kids tend to have a lot of daydreams and made-up abilities. But for once you actually seemed serious and said the first time you did it, you fell asleep for a week. And as kids get when people don’t believe them, you insist on proving your ability to them. Some of them find it cute how persistent you are, others are interested in why you chose to lie about time reversing of all things. Until they realize you aren’t lying.
You dropped a plate on the floor, and it clattered and broke into pieces. And then you closed your eyes and focused your energy on your hand directed at the plate. Before everyone knew it, the plate was back on the table unbroken, and you were lying on the floor. Chaos ensues.
The most interested one has to be Dottore of course. How did you do that? What kind of childhood did you have to develop that ability? Who are your parents? Are you even human? What are the consequences of this power? Then there are the ones who don’t really want you to use your power. What if you get seriously injured from using it too much or too long? They don’t want to see you hurt. You won’t have to use it anyway, they can protect you well enough. If anything, I think Pierro would know the most and be able to help you control it. He knows about Khaenri’ah’s secrets so he would know about all ancient types of magic.
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sailorrlino · 10 months
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Crown | One | (lmh)
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𓆩⟡𓆪 Pairing: Lee Minho x reader
𓆩⟡𓆪 Summary: The prince of the Unseelie Court has a single job: find a suitable marriage to strengthen the ties of his court and to keep the peace of the city. But when he stumbles across you at a bar and feels the thread between you form, Minho knows immediately that he’s found his other half, his mate. When he comes across you again at the ball meant to find his marriage match, disaster ensues and the fight for his crown begins. 
𓆩⟡𓆪   Word Count: 8,542
𓆩⟡𓆪 Genre: Urban Fantasy | Soulmates | Angst | 
𓆩⟡𓆪 Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
𓆩⟡𓆪 Warnings: Explicit language, worldbuilding, talks of politics and social economic issues, slight depictions of anxiety, Minho and reader both are very cranky and overall don't have great outlooks on life, depictions of blood and core, violent action scenes, really creepy creatures idk, mentions of a deceased parent and mild references to childhood trauma (more like a suggestion that reader had a rough childhood) and Minho ruminates on some family obligations
𓆩⟡𓆪 A/N: This chapter took so much longer to write than I thought that it was going to but it is finally here. I have been super nervous about it and I kept editing it over and over again because the later half with the action/magic sequences were really giving me trouble. I don't usually struggle this much, but writing has been super hard which is also why I somehow managed to write something under 10k for the first time in what feels like a year? Also, the creatures mentioned here are inspired by displacer beasts in D&D in look/aesthetic only. I hope you enjoy my little fantasy world that I have been obsessing over - I am really excited to be writing this and cannot wait to delve into the plot fully. I have some really fun and crazy things planned!
𓆩⟡𓆪 Disclaimer: All members of Stray Kids are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ Series Masterlist ⟡ Playlist ⟡ Ask ⟡ Next Chapter
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If there's one thing I am sure of, I am sure that you have always belonged with me. -AKIF KICHLOO
It’s going to be a bad day. To be fair, it usually is. This time, though, Minho wakes with premonition sweat on the back of his neck and a spark of magic at his fingers, brought to life by whatever nightmare plagued him just moments before. 
His worst days always start like this: a nightmare that feels more than just a dream but he cannot remember, sitting right on the edge of his vision, watching from the shadows. Sweat slips down his back, the touch of a reaper’s finger. Magic crackles at his fingertips, ready to protect himself. 
The dreams themselves don’t happen that often, but they happen enough that Minho’s looked into them. He’s asked the royal family Lorist about dreams numerous times. Seungmin is tricky, though, his words and explanations twisting and never really landing in anything that feels meaningful. Still, Minho remembers the way that Seungmin’s tricky chatter quieted when he told him about the dreams, the way the Lorist’s mirth faded, replaced with something darker before returning to his usual, smirking self. 
Peeling the sheets off of sweat-slick skin, Minho sits up. The world tilts, spinning unbalanced on its axis as he recovers from the dream. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the tops of his knees, and hangs his head down, taking in a deep breath. He remembers that the Lorist told him a calm, quiet mind was the best tool for remembering what is just beyond one’s reach. 
Minho tries and fails. His mind hasn’t been quiet in years and he doesn’t suppose it ever will be. 
Rain paints the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows in front of his bed. This high up in the building, the clouds darken the windows with a frosty glaze and the rain freezes, spider webbing once it hits the cool glass. The sun is hidden behind darker, thicker clouds somewhere in the east. He thinks he won’t see it today. 
Not that he minds the rain, usually. Stratos is a city of rain, the epicenter of unusual weather and lightning storms charged with the earth's natural magic. Minho can feel it humming in the air beyond the window as he walks barefoot and unsteady to the bathroom, eager to throw cold water on his face. 
Cool water spills from the wall in the bathroom. The wall is hewn rock and living lichen, glowing mushroom caps, and other fauna and flora that glow in the darkness where they thrive. The water spilling from the wall is always bitter, fresh and invigorating, waking him up further as he splashes his face. He’s unsure of the system of portals and ley lines that makes his home full of pieces of his home here, in the apartment building he pays too much coin for, but it’s a nice touch, to feel the bite of the river from home.
Home. 
The apartment building in the sky isn’t home. Not really. It’s a place that gives him space and the agency to be himself and do what he wants, but home is a faraway dimension that he hasn’t seen since he was five. Home is now one of the Burned Kingdoms, fallen away to ash and ruin. 
Except for the Gwy, this river that streams through the worlds. Through his childhood bedroom. Through the room reserved for him at the Unseelie Court, through many worlds and other places. There are other names for it, he knows, this river that runs through the entire world and other worlds. But it’s always been the Gwy to him, cold and sweet-tasting. 
It is one of the few memories of home he has, beyond the burning and the carnage. He tries not to think about that as he leaves, grabbing his tablet by the desk and flicking upward. His windows darken, muting the frosty rain in favor of moving pictures and screens. 
One panel of glass displays the news. Another panel brings up messages and an agenda for the day. He purposely doesn’t look at the agenda, tapping the tablet to bring up his recent messages, which are most notably from Chan. 
Chan: Jeongin and I will be escorting you tonight. No giving the kid a hard time, this is training. 
Chan: And before you ask, yes this is low-risk enough for him to be on duty for. No I will not hear any complaints as the captain of your guard. Yes, I think that he will be nervous and awkward.
Chan: Do not let Changbin bully his way into joining us. 
Chan: This is a gala not a party. 
Changbin: Tell the illustrious Captain Bang to let me fucking go tonight. The kid won’t even get to enjoy the fact that it’s a party.
Changbin: I don’t care what Chan says, it’s a ball and it’s got drinks and shit, it’s basically a party. Even if it’s fancy.
Blowing out a sigh, Minho pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t want to think about the gala tonight. Does not want to think about how once more his mother is going to push him into suitable marriage options, insisting that the world is going to end if they do not ally themselves with a suitable powerhouse in the city. 
It’s both true and untrue. Minho knew from a young age he would always have to fill obligations as the heir to the Unseelie throne. He would never get to have a life outside of politics and trickery and diamond-studded niceties. Yet despite his loyalty to his court and the fastness at which he obeys, there is something rearing inside of him that screams there is more there is more there is more. 
Minho doesn’t know where this comes from, this little sliver of him. He’s been an obedient and resolute child since birth - painfully so, according to most of the courtiers. And yet there is this tiny thread that unspools inside of him once in a while, filling him with doubt and chaos and thoughts that perhaps rebelling, that stepping away from his loyalties wouldn’t be the end of the world.
Perhaps there is something out there in the world calling to you, Seungmin had said one night over a glass of wine. His eyes had been twinkling and there was a little secret smirk on his face. Perhaps it is a part of you that exists elsewhere. 
Minho has no fucking idea what the Lorist means. He rarely does. Seungmin’s existence in the court is purely out of traditions to the old ways. Hundreds of years ago, he would have been a seneschal and something like a seer. Now, with the watered-down blood of the fae, Seungmin is little more than a showy novelty hidden in the astronomy tower of the Unseelie Court. 
Still, Minho likes him. Likes the way that they feel like friends, in a way. Doesn’t always mind that the Lorist talks in circles when giving advice, but is quite normal when he wants to play video games and frustrate the rest of them with his cheating. 
Honey-scented coffee reaches Minho as he leaves the bedroom, still dressed in nothing but sweatpants hung low on his hips. Felix is in the kitchen, a hot mug of coffee floating toward Minho. His lips twitch as he reaches out for it, plucking the mug from the air. It resits a little before Felix’s magic lets it go.
“Good morning, finish that fast. We have your suit fitting to get to.” Felix’s deep voice is a stark contrast to his elegant features. He turns to look at Minho with a smile, his eyes the color of emeralds. “I put it on your calendar that you probably ignored.”
“I didn’t ignore the calendar.”
Felix hums, turning back around. His blonde hair is pushed back, mullet-style, and soft looking. He’s already dressed for the day in jeans and a cable knit sweater, his bag laying across the counter where his tablet lights up with notifications. 
“So you were just afraid of a specific event on your calendar,” Felix supplies. Minho winces and sips the coffee. It is perfectly flavored with sweet cream and hints of honey, his favorite. “Either way, we need to get to Almas early. You know she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Lifting a hand, Felix snaps his fingers once. There’s a spark as green as his eyes between them and a scone appears in front of Minho. He plucks it out of the air, eyeing the witch whose back is turned to him. Felix’s magic always leaves the scent of cinnamon when he uses it, singing Minho’s nose. 
“Thanks,” he deadpans, tearing into the scone with his teeth. “Can you order a box of those chocolates that Jeongin likes from Sprinkled Sprite? He’s on duty tonight training with Chan. I’d like to give him a gift.” 
“How kind of you.” 
Minho heads back to his room to change. “It’s not from me,” he corrects, even though Felix is already scoffing as he turns and begins tapping on his tablet. “Please address it from the royal family, Felix.”
“Uh huh.”
In his room, Minho gets dressed, eyes on the screen as the news blares on, red font swiping across the screen for an emergency announcement. His brows pull together, eyes fixed on the images in front of him as he buttons his shirt from bottom to top, fingers nimble. 
A reporter is on the scene, holographic caution tape flashing in the rain behind her. Minho thinks she’s a werewolf from the amber color of her eyes and claw-tipped fingers, but he looks away from her to focus on the flurry of activity behind her where nephilim police keep people on the other side talking to one another as rain slicks off their police-issued coats. 
“Another grisly murder in the third floor of this apartment building,” the reporter says, speaking loud enough that the mic can pick up her voice over the tap tap tap of the deluge. “Located in downtown in the Lethe sector, it’s the second murder in recent weeks, coming days after a brutal crime scene just three blocks down. Is it a coincidence? Is it the start of a serial killer? SPD says it's too early to tell.”
The TV turns off and Minho looks at where Felix is standing in the doorway, green eyes fixed on the now empty windows. He flicks his gaze to Minho and offers him a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps best not to start the morning with such dreadful news.”
“I’m going to have to hear about it anyway. The daemons are pushing for an audience. They say the reported murder wasn’t the first and that this has been going on for weeks.” 
“Well, then the queen will take an audience with them if she feels it’s necessary.” Minho eyes Felix, but there’s no emotion on the witch’s face. “Ready to go?” 
Minho flexes his fingers and rolls his shoulders. “Yes.”
-
You’re going to have a bad day. You knew it when you woke up on the edge of a dream that left you sweat-slick and short of breath. The dream hovered right on the edge of your mind, slipping through your grasp like grains of sand as you tried to dig and pull the memories back. 
It’s always like this. Waking up from something you can’t remember, carrying around the dregs of a nightmare with you all day. You always feel hollow after, like something terrible has happened but you can’t recall what. Can’t place the feeling of the shadow that slinks from your dreamscape into your waking hours, watching and waiting until you fall asleep again. 
The bad day comes for you like you knew it would. You’re going to be late to work. Again. It’s a condition that the public transportation system has made incurable. Buses are always behind, the subway is only reliable from midtown to uptown, and the only carpooling services here are run by the pixies who are too easily distracted by lights to get you where you’re going on time. Especially in the Lethe sector. 
Jisung will just have to cover for you like he always does. He’s good at that, turning on the vila charm and glittering smile. It’s useful, having him to count on. You feel a little bad about it, but you make up for your lack of timeliness in other ways like making sure he doesn’t get the shit beat out of him when he takes on dangerous clients, his knife in the dark. 
Still, as the rain pours down on your coat and the street's drain systems fail, causing water to surge around your ankle along with the garbage clogging the drains in the first place, you wonder if he’ll ever get tired of covering for you. 
A cat yowls and runs down an alleyway as you walk by, startling you. Pulling your jacket closer, you keep your eyes lingering in the shadows of each alley you pass. Your dagger is strapped to your calf under your pants, but you’re still wary walking down the streets in the pouring rain, especially now. 
Murders happen in the Lethe sector all the time. You’re no stranger to that. You’re even responsible for a few of them. But the types of murders being whispered about in the circles that you pass and being murmured in the closed doors of the clubs is that something isn’t right. There is something moving through downtown, tearing creatures apart. 
In a way, you’re unconcerned. As long as you and yours are safe and protected, it isn’t your business what is prowling through Lethe. As long as Hyunjin and Jisung are alive and healthy, you don’t particularly care to find out what’s murdering its way through apartment complexes. 
Below the drowning surface of the streets is worse than above. Water runs down the steps of the subway like a waterfall, splashing out onto the floor before it spreads and eventually spills onto the tracks. There are wet floor signs everywhere as the subway androids drive around with mops, doing nothing but certainly trying to squeegee the water into drains. 
You jump the pay meter, ignoring the way it blares red when you do so. The little androids are so worried about the deluge that they don’t turn at the sound of a payment being skipped, making you grin. Serves the transportation system right for charging you at all for something public. 
The train car is full of soaked wet people huddling in seats. At least the air conditioning doesn’t work so you don’t have the sting of cold air clinging to your skin as you tuck yourself in an empty seat, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 
At the end of the car is a group of solitary fae, heads tilted together and giggling over their phones. You watch them from the corner of your eye. They’re dressed mostly in black with merchandise from a vampire band you vaguely recognize. 
Dropping your eyes to the ground, you stare at the scuffed shoes on your feet. You wonder what it’s like to go out to a concert with friends dressed in band tees and high on pre-concert adrenaline. When you go out with your friends, it’s to work. To watch Jisung bat his eyelashes and trade secrets and kisses for the elite who come from uptown to slum it without watchful eyes. To slip a knife between the ribs of someone who got a little too close, who was a little too rough. To get battered by Hyunjin as he tries to hone you into a warrior he so desperately tells you that you need to be. 
With a heavy sigh, you lean back and close your eyes, pressing your head against the window. The rocking of the subway car on the tracks is gentle, soothing almost. As you sink into the exhaustion that pulls at your skin and bones with greedy hands, you slip away somewhere between wakefulness and sleep, a sort of in-between. 
Here, in between, is where you feel the same thing you always do: a void. A missing piece. Something not right inside of you, like a lock with no key. For a long time, you thought that perhaps you were just built wrong. It was a good enough guess because you’re certainly not the kind of faerie that your mother’s court is proud of.
This feels deeper, though. Like there is something out there waiting for you, calling to you. Your father wasn’t helpful when you told him about this feeling of something waiting for you beyond, chalking it up with a tight smile and a mutter of the word destiny. 
You don’t believe in destiny, though. There is nothing meant for anyone. People are born, things happen to them, then they die. Unless they’re immortal, which is pretty common in Stratos. 
An announcement chimes above your head announcing a stop and you look up to see the group of solitary fae clambering to get off the car. As they pass, one of them turns to look at you. Their eyes are large and round, like a horse. One is crystal blue while the other is wholly black, no iris, no whites. You startle, recognizing the dark eye of a seer as the faerie stares at you with uncanny sharpness. 
Something tingles at the back of your neck. The faerie doesn’t move and outside of the train car, their friends start to call their name, but the faerie is motionless, cocking their head and pinning you with that stare. Ice forms in your veins as their friends all turn to you, mouths going tight like they sense what's about to happen. 
“Save Jeongin,” the faerie says, voice paper thin. They nod as if confirming what they’re telling you. “Save Jeongin, find the missing half.” 
The words hit you with an invisible force. You squirm in your seat, watching as the faerie blinks, a little dazed. They turn on their heel and rush off the train just as the doors to the car shut and the train dings as it shoots forward again, leaving you staring at the shut doors. 
Goosebumps break out over your arms. Something within you stirs, like a predestined feeling of knowing. Perhaps it's because the seer just told you something that is most likely valuable and a little haunting, but perhaps it's your instinct. Your father always said you had a preternatural instinct, a gut feeling about things that were beyond the normal predictiveness of the fae. 
Swallowing hard, you lean back in your seat and fight a shiver. Jeongin. You have no idea who or what that is. The name means nothing to you, and you know a lot of names. You’re in the business of knowing names. You memorize the sound and shape of it, running over the faerie's instructions over and over until it's committed to memory to ask Jisung about it later. 
Save Jeongin, find the missing half. 
Anxiety creeps up your spine, walking its cool fingers up to the nap of your neck where it settles like a collar. You feel it squeeze as you replay the words over and over in your head. You have no idea what the ‘missing half’ is but it doesn’t feel good. 
Cool air meets you when you step off the train and into the much drier air of the subway uptown. There are transportation workers here, dressed in all black with red sashes and polite smiles. Though the smell of rain rushes down the stairwell, there’s no deluge of water, no cloying scent of garbage. 
Topside, the world is still covered by misty rain. At least the sidewalks aren’t swimming, rain rushing down the gutters with a loud roar as the storm drain systems operate. Umbrellas move along the sidewalk like beetles, their little black shells crawling along the evening foot traffic.
To your right, cars are lined up, occasionally beeping impatiently from people who are tired from their day working in the city and just want to go home. You wonder what it must be like, to wake up at the same time every morning and sit in a car for an hour to go to some flashy building uptown. Maybe you’d have a desk in a nice glass office and get to look out over the rest of the world, watching the people below you move like ants. 
Or perhaps you’d be one of those workers who only worked until you found a wealthy partner to support you, becoming the trophy they could tout around at parties and drape in jewels. Then, your partner would slip down to downtown in the middle of the night and visit the seedy bars and clubs in the underbelly, where they would ultimately whore their way through the riff raff. 
You grit your teeth. It always comes back to this, your dreams coming full circle to your reality. You’re not good at dreaming. Perhaps as a child, tucked against the small window at your father’s cafe you were a dreamer. Thought about what you might do with your life, what potential you might have. 
That was snuffed out. No need to think about it, no need to lament over it.
The Glass Thorn Hotel stretches upward into the sky, iridescent and glowing from all of the hidden lights fixed to the building. It stands out among the rest of the city, a shining beacon of light among dark office windows. Crowds of people with their umbrellas press together behind red rope, watching the slow drag of cars come along to drop off the city's elite: government officials, royals, music idols, movie stars, business owners. 
A car hits a puddle as you walk around the side of the building, splashing you from ankle to hip. You let out a frustrated yell. You were already wet from the knee down, but how you feel clammy near your ass as you hurry to the rear of the building, flashing your phone to show your ID and work badge at the door. 
The Unseelie faerie at the door scrutinizes your ID, white eyes flickering from the glowing screen to your face. You grit your teeth and stare back at him, daring him to say something. His lips twitch in a frown before he hands you the phone back and opens the door further.
“Do dry off,” he murmurs, voice like velvet. “You’re dripping all over the place like a wild animal.” 
“Noted,” you grit back, stepping inside.
The service hall is tight and bustling with activity. There’s an intention detector just ahead of you, a line of creatures going through and waiting for the thrumming energy field to buzz green. The detector is made up of two glass panes on either side of a carpet, flowing with magical energy as two armed vampires stand on either side. 
Shoving your phone in your pocket, you ask for a towel to dry off, shivering in the cool of the hallway.
A scoff comes from behind you. You turn your head to the side a fraction, glancing at the security guard who shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath. Your hearing isn’t as sharp as a full-blooded fae, but you hear him well enough to know he calls you a half-breed.
You stiffen and turn forward, determined not to let it get to you. It isn’t the worst thing you’ve been called and it won’t be the last time you earn the name either. Your lack of magic has earned you snide glances your entire life. They have no idea that there is a river of magic running deep in you. It’s just inaccessible. Useless.
Passing through the intention detector is easy, though uncomfortable. The magic clings to your skin like tiny little claws latching in, sticking to you and digging in to find your intention, to see if you mean harm. You certainly don’t mean harm to anyone here.
Save Jeongin, find the missing half. 
You hope that if someone in the building tonight is looking to harm this Jeongin that they get disintegrated by the detectors long before you have to do anything. 
After signing in, you get directed to wardrobe where you pull on black dress shirt and quickly tuck it into your black pants before rushing toward the swinging kitchen doors.
Noise explodes when you enter the kitchens. People hollering, the sound of oil crackling accompanied by the slamming of metal knives and pans against burners, glass shattering followed by screaming as someone drops a dining plate. 
You spot Jisung lifting a serving platter of champagne flutes, his ochre eyes on the pixie being scolded as he makes a face you can only read as yikes while rushing over to him. He doesn’t see you coming at first, standing and watching the chaos, golden glow around him as his mind wanders.
“You’re glowing,” you mumble to him as you pick up a serving tray of champagne. He snaps his head in your direction, the faint glimmer around his body vanishing but his million-watt smile making up for it. “Why are you so giddy?”
“Perhaps the pixie who dropped her serving plate called me a cunt earlier,” he said, sniffing indifferently as you both head toward the servants hall to slip through the dark and enter the banquet hall of the hotel. “Perhaps I charmed a spriggan to tie her shoe laces.” 
“Deserved it, then.”
“Perhaps so.” 
Darkness envelops the two of you as you move behind a murky, darkened veil. The magical veil is for cosmetic purposes only, shielding the entire venue from the unsightly serving staff as the gala on the other side of the dark wall buzzes with activity. 
“You were late again, by the way. Shira asked where you were.” 
“I’m sure you lied and said I was here.”
“I did,” he confirms, sighing as the two of you step around rushing servers.
Jisung gives you a dark look. He looks exquisite tonight, his almond eyes lined with brown kohl, enhancing their alluring pull. There’s a sweep of shimmer on his cheekbones and his golden hair is styled back and laced with lines of glitter. His features are soft and round - innocent, which is what he likes people to think. You know he’s anything but. 
“You look beautiful,” you offer as he gestures for you to lead the way through the darkened veil. “Stay away from the Unseelie.”
He nods, eyes serious. “I know.”
Giving Jisung a single encouraging nod,  you step through the veil. It feels like stepping through static, your ears popping on the other side. The gala is loud, the sound of all the voices and the music bustle washing over you as you slip into your role as a server for the night.
When Jisung told you that the events company he sometimes works for needed extra bodies to serve at an event uptown, you’d immediately said yes. You needed the extra cash and beyond the fact that the opulence reminds you how you are worlds awat from the elite members of Stratos, they’re not the worst jobs. 
But you’d almost bailed when you realized that the event was hosted by the Unseelie Court. Hyunjin was going to have a meltdown when he realized where you were too. But a single look at your bank account had you swallowing down years of bad memories and putting on a smile as you extended your tray of champagne flutes. 
Attending patrons tended to ignore you anyways. No one's eyes drifted to your tipped ears that were far too short to be entirely fae. No one glanced twice at your face, a mess of fae features with something else. Something unnamed. 
A black and blue butterfly passes you, a glowing trail of blue following its path. Your eyes follow it as it floats upward toward effervescent lighting. The ballroom has been transformed into a glowing cave of darkness and magic. Glowing flowers and vines drape on the walls and across the ceiling, floating lights of pink and blue drifting in the air offering gentle lighting. 
Beneath your feet, the floor is soft moss, dotted with mushrooms and other illuminated flora. The air smells sweet, sticky and humid against your skin. You imagine yourself on the inside of a volcano long burned out, the inside becoming home to all of the things that thrive in the dark, that make their own light.
It’s beautiful, and the creatures inside of it are all the more beautiful still. A moon wraith drifts by, her hair long and silvery. She’s watery at the edges and opaque enough that you can see right through her in some parts. She’s in silk that looks spun out of light, eyes wholly black with glittering stars.
A dizzying number of creatures drift by you. You see glittering gossamer wings, soft-furred brownies, sharp-fanged vampires, a grinning werewolf, groups of nymphs giggling behind scaled hands. A popular musician passes you, his siren song making you turn your head as he drifts by. He’s not even speaking but you hear the soft purr of his music, the longing notes as he continues into the room, turning heads as he goes. 
Cameras flash as a group of politicians pose together. You recognize the princes of the Solar court posing for a photo. She’s otherworldly, her moss eyes vulpine and sharp, her doll-like face illuminated in the lowlight. Her dress looks like it’s made of light, threads of glowing sun wrapping around her light body and casting her in a gold gleam. 
Council members fill up the room. As you navigate, you recognize the leading members of the species of Stratos in the room. Not all twelve are present, but not all twelve members of the city’s ruling body are equal as they should be. Even among the top there is a social hierarchy that dictates invitations. 
A routine forms for your night. Circumnavigate the room while holding a tray, keep your eyes down, go back to the kitchen to receive another when you’ve emptied what you’re carrying. It’s easy money though your arm is a little sore and your shoes feel too tight on your feet. Ignoring it, you enter the main gala again, eyes scanning the room for Jisung. 
Your eyes alight on the vila as he bows his head and accepts thanks for something that a werewolf is telling him. As though he senses your eyes, Jisung looks across the room in your direction until he finds you. He offers a small smile and nod, letting you know that he’s okay. He’s well-enough equipped to take care of himself, but you have been his protector since you were children in school, standing up to the bullies who used to knock him down and cut his hair. 
A tingling sensation slides down the back of your neck. You pause and stiffen, staring at a lichen covered wall where two spriggans swing from vines, but you’re not watching them. Your eyes unfocus as you feel the prickling awareness bloom, static spreading down your spine. 
It’s a peculiar feeling that’s similar to when your instincts kick in and scream at you to do something specific. Lifting your gaze, you sweep the room a few times, looking for a noticeable threat or whatever is giving you this niggling feeling. There’s nothing that immediately looks out of place to you: flashing lights, low pulsing music, the din of voices and writhing bodies as they move around one another. 
There’s a larger crowd than there was before. Late comers are filling in before the seat portion of the gala starts and they have dinner while the faerie courts lament about the long-lasting history between them as they approach the anniversary of the peace between the four of them. You hope you get to sit in the server hall and rest your feet for that portion. Listening to the leaders of the city is the last thing you feel like doing.
A server hisses at you to move and snaps you from your trance. You nod and roll your shoulders, joining the rotation again. The platter feels heavier in your hand and your heart beats a little faster. Instead of keeping your eyes low and to the ground as you carry around what looks like truffled kelpie eyes, you keep watch on your surroundings. The tingling sensation that you’re missing something immediate is there, pressing down on your spine.
Applause starts to thrum through the crowd of attendees as you pass off the last of the eyeball truffles on your serving platter. You glance toward the front of the room where there are two holographic screens displayed as the queen of the Unseelie Court takes center stage on a glass platform. 
Queen Jieun is a spectacle to look at. Her hair is raven black, shining blue under the lights of the floating orbs and glowing flora. Her dress is a marvel of sweeping skirts of black and charcoal gray, tiny beaded details depicting vines twisting up the dress. The bodice is a cage of black branches and thorns, frosted with frozen dew and forming a violent collar around her delicate throat. 
The queen of the Unseelie Court is everything she could be, delicate and sharp, dangerous but coy, beautiful but terrifying. You swallow past the sour taste in your mouth at seeing her, repressing a shiver as you bow your head down and make a beeline for the opaque veil as she gives her opening address, voice like dark velvet. 
Jisung grabs you and yanks you to a standstill. You bare your teeth at him in frustration but he gives you a wide-eyed, pleading look. A quick glance around the room lets you know that none of the other servers are moving, all standing rigid around the room with their heads cast down and arms laced behind their back because it’s impolite to not show reverence while the queen is speaking.
Gritting your teeth, you stand next to him and lace your hands behind your back. Fixing your eyes on the floor, you take deep breaths in through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth. The queen’s voice is like nails on your skin, rattling you down to your core the more you hear the raspy laugh and each accented word. 
Queen Jieun doesn’t know your face or you wouldn’t have come tonight, knowing that the Unseelie Court would be here. But she does know your name - especially your mother’s - and being in the same room as her feels oppressive. Like a hand is pressing down on our throat, determined to crush your airway. 
A brush of fingers against yours draws your attention. Jisung isn’t looking at you, but his fingers are twining with yours, giving you a squeeze. Your heart constricts and your throat tightens, nearly overcome by a sweeping of fondness for him. You squeeze his hand back and turn forward, steeled and strengthened to listen to a woman who unknowingly shapes your entire existence.
There’s a round of applause as she asks the queen of the Solar Court to join her. They use fanciful words to depict how long ago, the four courts of the fae were at odds with one another. It was far before Stratos ever existed and the fae lived in their own world before it joined the Burned Kingdoms. Worlds lost to some magical blight, something all-consuming. 
Now, the four courts of the fae live in harmony. Tense harmony filled with political jockeying, vying for the council seat, and an ever-changing game of chess where they seek to out power one another. The Unseelie Court is better at it than most, but they aren’t where the power lies here this evening. 
The sovereign of the Seelie Court sits at the table of honor, their jade eyes honed in on the two monarchs speaking at the front of the stage. The sovereign is beautiful, with high cheekbones that look sharp enough to cut glass and red stained lips the color of crushed berries. Their copper long hair is intricately braided and there’s a circlet resting just above a proud brow. It’s hard to look at them for any amount of time, the power and glamor radiating from the faerie always makes you avert your eyes after a few seconds. 
Sovereign Seren is the Unseelie queen’s opposite in almost every way. Where color seems to blanch where Queen Jieun goes, the world around the sovereign is brighter and warmer and you swear you see colors you never knew existed before. This is what the old blood of the original fae kingdom looks like. This is a faerie who has existed for thousands of years, and pins a cutting stare onto the two fae on the stage. 
A static pulse ripping from somewhere in the building distracts you. You turn toward the kitchens where you felt it from, staring at the opaque veil between the gala and the serving staff. You can’t see through the veil at all, can’t hear any sounds but what is on this side of the magical barrier. 
Your stomach sinks. The feeling of wrongness creeps up on you and you glance around to see if anyone else felt a shiver of strange magic. No one seems alarmed or looking in the direction you felt the wave emanate from. Jisung is staring at his feet, yawning. 
Turning back to the magical wall, you stare at it as though you could will it to show you what's on the other side. This feeling of anxiety and fight or flight is different from earlier in the evening when you felt that cool tingle pressing on your neck. Now, your gut twists and you cannot shake the omen that has settled deep in your stomach, warning bells going off.
You turn to Jisung. “Something isn’t right,” you murmur to him. He looks up at you, eyes round and alarmed. He knows to trust you. “I think I felt something a moment ago and I have this horrible feeling-”
Terrible screams rip through the gala as servants spill through the magical wall. Immediately there are creatures shooting to their feet from tables and guards swarming the two fae royals on the stage. Jisung grabs your arm in alarm, looking as chaos breaks out along the far side of the room where servants are stumbling into tables and fleeing from the kitchens and halls in droves, several of them slick with blood. 
Grabbing Jisung’s arm, you pull him behind you as the table in front of you gets shoved, the attendees rushing to get away from the unknown source of terror. You feel the threat like a pinprick, a knife of awareness as you move backward toward the gala entrance with Jisung pressed behind you. The two of you are careful to keep together, feet tangling with one another in the mess while your eyes are trained on the veil, waiting. 
When you see the source of the mayhem, you freeze. The creature is a void, so dark that it bends the light as it slinks through the magical veil. As it passes, the wall of magic crackles, electricity popping and whining as it shatters and drops, revealing the servant hall. Jisung’s nails dig into your skin, drawing half moon circles of blood with his grip as the two of you stare at the massacre of bodies and limbs. 
“What the fuck is that?” Jisung breathes, hand trembling.
You have no idea what the creature in question is. It’s sleek and shaped like a jungle cat, but its entire hide shines with leathery skin as it prowls into the room, shadows flickering strangely around it. Two long appendages grow from its back, lashing out like a whip and plunging into people. There are rows of serrated teeth at the end of each appendage, chittering like a saw as it pulls victims down.
It’s hard to watch but harder to look away as the creature holds a Solar Court guard down to the ground and turns him into something unrecognizable, an oozing husk of a body as the guard nearly melts with whatever the teeth do to him. 
Jisung turns and vomits behind you. Your stomach is hardly in better condition when another creature slinks around the corner from the kitchen, the same buzz shivering over you with its presence. This one is closer and you realize that it’s just you and Jisung, frozen and staring as fae guards and a pack of werewolves press in on the first creature.
This one, though, seemsed fixed on you. It’s hard to make out and discernable facial features, but you immediately feel like prey. You squeeze Jisung’s arm. “Run,” you whisper. 
Jisung doesn’t hesitate. He lets you go in favor of running and you’re on his heels, leaping over a broken chair as you go. The banquet hall doors are a mass of bodies and screaming creatures shoving and pulling. Only three sets of doors are available for the escape of the people inside as hundreds of people try to stampede through them. 
As you approach the crowd, they start screaming and running toward you, herded toward the center of the gala as more of the cat-creatures prowl from the lobby into the event space, their whip-like limbs and teeth tearing into victims as they go.
Bodies slam into you. Jisung’s hand gets knocked from yours and you scream his name. He’s yanked from you in the sea of people and you shove your way through the panicking crowd in the direction you think he was pulled in. 
Stumbling, you end up at the south end of the room, a body slamming into you and knocking you to the ground. Rolling to your front and pushing yourself up, you freeze, eye level with one of the creatures that is cornering a faerie dressed in the leathers of the Unseelie Guard. He’s got a sword out and he’s bleeding from his brow, standing in front of either a dead body or someone who is unconscious as he snarls.
He’s young you realize, vulpine face full of terror but eyes lit with fire. You scrambled to your feet, slipping on spilled blood. The creature prowls toward the faerie but he doesn’t move, determined to stand over the body laying on the floor instead of turning to run. 
Around the room, there are several people trying to fight off the monsters. You see the Sovereign from the corner of your eye, her green magic flashing so bright you see stars. Behind you, a faerie skids to a halt and looks at the Unseelie guard.
“Jeongin!” he screams, voice cracking. 
Jeongin. The name resonates with you immediately and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Save Jeongin, find the missing half. 
Without considering the consequences, you stepward and teeter right into the pool of your magic, falling headfirst into the bottomless well of energy. 
Your magic is unpredictable at best and you’re wildly untrained. Beyond a few parlor tricks, your energy sits inside of you untapped and waiting. It feels like an ever-flowing river, cycling and rushing through your entire body. Sometimes, you try to dip your hand in. But you can never grasp it, can never pull out a handful of it to do what you want. 
That certainly insn’t the case now as your panic jumpstarts your magic. You’ve only done this twice before. Once was the first time you ever fell headfirst into your magic. You had just been trying to get a jar of cookies from the highest shelf, but you’d fallen from the counter and tried to soften the blow. You’d melted right through the floor and set off some sort of reaction, your magic eating away at the foundations of your home until there was nothing left.
The second time, you’d been ambushed with your mother leaving a very tense meeting with her family at their estate. You’d been afraid and reacting out of instinct to protect yourself, pulsing like an electromagnetic generator and sending a wave of energy outward. 
It had leveled a building and left a scorch mark on the earth. You hadn’t even managed to save your mother. 
Now, it doesn’t matter. The seer’s words echo through you and you lose yourself to the surging power, becoming a livewire. The thing senses you, turning on you and away from the faerie - Jeongin - to attack. It’s too late. Your palms are burning up with magic and you imagine a blade, something to cut away at the creature. You let your magic fly, a flash of something razor thin. 
Black ichor sprays as it hits the monster. It splatters outward, making you flinch as it hits you hot and wet. Its two halves fall on the ground, leaking onto the floor. The air around it shimmers for a moment, vibrating before it settles and all that’s left is the dead thing. 
Someone screams your name. Jisung comes running toward you, a loping creature following him. Jisung is covered in blood, blonde hair soaked red. Your power shakes as you reach for him, one hand outstretched the other shaping another blade of energy. 
Jisung’s hand grabs yours and you pull him to your chest, holding him as you throw your magic again. You hear the way it cuts the air, an audible hum as it hits the creature and slices thickly through its hide. It hits the ground heavily, the air glimmering again like the fabric of this world is registering that something has happened. 
Elsewhere, beasts are slowly being felled. The high priestess of the witch covens wields white fire around her, a whip of flame cracking as she advances on a creature. Lightning crackles up the sword of a nephilim solider, arching as he slices through the leg of another. 
“What the fuck was that?” Jisung breathes, holding on to you for dear life. “Did you just-”
“Yes,” you pant.
“How?”
“I just panicked, honestly. I have no idea.” 
Jisung hugs you tightly. “Thank you.” You give him a squeeze back and he peels away, looking over your shoulder. “There are three Unseelie fae staring at you.”
Save Jeongin, find the missing half. 
Licking your lips, you turn to look at the group of fae behind you. The young one that you saved - Jeongin - stares at you with wide eyes and his mouth open. A little marveled. A little afraid. Behind him, the faerie that he was standing in front of is sitting up with the help of the one who had yelled Jeongin’s name, his eyes glued to you as well. 
It’s the one Jeongin had been protecting that attracts your attention. When you look at him the sounds of death and chaos fade to a dull roar, blocked out by your tunnel vision as you stare at him. Suddenly, the world feels right, like everything makes perfect sense. Everything is aligned. 
He’s devastating to look at. Amethyst hair hands down in his face, matted with the blood that drips down the side of his head. He has unfathomably dark eyes, feline-shaped and sharp. He’s made up of equally soft and sharp features, nose round and jaw honed. His mouth is fixed in a grimace, but you think his lips are plush. Gentle. 
Your heart beats loud in your ears as you stare at him. That strange sense of instinct is screaming now, louder than before, pressing down on you like you’ve finally figured out what it wants from you. It tells you that it wanted you to look here, at this person. The man sitting on the floor, staring up at you with a mix of confusion and wariness. 
Suddenly, you realize that in this moment there is the absence of something else. Most of your life you’ve spent wandering around as though you were looking for something else or like something was missing. Just a small piece of you that was impossible to find. 
Now there’s a key sliding into a lock. Your mouth dries as you feel like something clicks. Like suddenly, now that the two of you are staring at one another, everything makes sense. Rationally, none of what has happened tonight makes sense. The creatures, the attack, the chaos and your sudden dip into your magic. 
Yet… it feels right. Entirely, wholly right, for the first time in your life. 
Horror creeps in slowly as your mind begins to put together the details too slowly. It seems that the faerie on the floor - someone important, by the looks of his guards - has already come to a conclusion you haven’t reached just yet. He’s shaking his head and pushing back a little bit, eyes never leaving you. 
Such beautiful eyes, you think absently, under all of the whirring of your thoughts. 
When you were little, you asked your dad what it felt like when he realized your mother was his mate. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but this face had clouded over in a way you’d never seen before, etched glass of pain and sadness. You’d regret asking immediately and thought that he wouldn’t answer until he finally did.
Like suddenly there was no longer a piece of me missing or looking for something, he’d said. Like everything made sense, even if it didn’t really. Just instinctual knowing that I was suddenly whole. 
Jisung says your name and pulls on your arm but you’re anchored to where you stand. Unable to move and think beyond the word that is circling your thoughts over and over again. As soon as you even think of the word, you can’t get rid of it. Can’t shake the feeling that you’ve come to the right conclusion about whatever this feeling is.
Mate you think. Mate. Mate. Mate. 
No word in the world seems more appropriate. It echoes inside of you - rattles the stars, even. You’re so sure that he’s your mate, not a sliver of doubt in your heart. Fear, perhaps. Despair, even. But nothing has felt surer to you than this moment, looking at him. 
“Your highness,” Jeongin says, though it’s phrased like a question. He’s looking at the faerie on the floor and you put the rest of the pieces together. Unknowing, the young  guard continues. “She just saved our lives.” 
Your highness. You look at the crest on his broach. The elm tree that is stitched in the armor of the guards. Horror unravels in you like a slow blooming flower, each petal bringing with it the new weight of trepidation as you stare at the prince of the Unseelie Court.
“Doesn’t matter,” the other guard growls and points a blade at you. “Until this is sorted out, everyone is an enemy.” 
The prince snarls vicious sound, canines on display as he jumps to his feet, hand shooting out to grab his guard’s arm. “Do not,” he hisses. “Point your weapon at my mate.” 
⟡ Main Masterlist ⟡ Series Masterlist ⟡ Playlist ⟡ Ask ⟡ Next Chapter
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dwaekkiforpresident · 3 months
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okay hear me out
making gingerbread houses with bang chan (write fluff as reparations for the angst you made me read)
now i have to repent for my sins???? wtf???
anyway making the holidays with chan in general are always magical. the giddy feeling of delight that pours off of him is infectious, his good vibes rolling off in waves.
chan is a firm believer that christmas is for spending time together. he expects no gifts (even if he’s bought you one…. or four) and will get pouty if you lied about buying him a gift. he loves it, he loves anything from you, but he doesn’t see the importance of buying something for him. you ask how it differs from him buying you a gift and you buying him a gift, he stumbles over his words in such a adorable manner that you end up dropping the interrogations.
“what’s that?” chan had come through the front door with a large tupperware in his arms. he made his way over to where you were standing in the kitchen and handed you the container with a large smile. you suppose this is how he wanted to answer your question.
you pop open the lid to see what looks like homemade gingerbread and a decent sized bag of white icing. “felix asked me if we’d want some gingerbread if he made some,” he says watching you realize why the cookies are cut in large squares and rectangles. “and i said yes. i always made gingerbread houses with my family as a kid and i wanted to do it with you too… if that’s okay.”
saying no to him??? is he crazy??? his shy expression as he asks for the sweetest way to spend some holiday time together is enough for you to lean in and kiss his cheek, balancing the container on one hand while the other rests on his cheek. “of course i want to, baby.”
fast forward past a quick convenience store run for candies and some banter over the music that should be playing while you two construct a tiny home for cookie people, then you have a very wobbly foundation for your gingerbread house. chan insists on piping the frosting to keep the house together, brow furrowed in concentration and his eyes lighting up when the pieces stay together. he turns to look at you while you give him an impressed nod. he does a little celebratory dance and relinquishes the creative details to you.
chan can’t sit still, from watching you work with his elbow propped on the counter or hugging you from behind, it’s like he’s a kid on christmas eve.
because it is christmas eve. and your boyfriend is a big kid when it comes to you.
as you put the finishing touches of gumdrops and rainbow gumballs on the house, you take a dramatic step back like a chef on food network, smiling proudly.
chan would play along, walking around the counter to get a full 360° look at it while wearing his best serious face. once he gets back to you, he crosses his arms and nods silently.
“it looks awful.” he says while breaking into a small fit of laughter, your jaw dropping and a laugh of disbelief leaving your throat.
“you’re an ass!” you groan, lightly smacking his arm that causes him to laugh harder and fake that your hit hurt him. after a moment he stands back upright and catches his break, pulling you into a hug. you stubbornly keep your arms down although you’re not even mad; it really did look bad. smudged icing everywhere, a mess of rainbow candies and dents from where certain pieces had fallen off. it was fun regardless.
“that just means that we’ll have to hire an interior decorator when we move in together. that’s all.” chan says nonchalantly with a slick smirk on his face that you don’t have to see to know is there. you shake your head and finally hug him back.
every christmas with chan somehow tops the last.
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mxlfoydraco · 1 year
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hi! i hope its okay to ask but, i was wondering if you have read any fics where theres also draco's son? i really like their relationship and i would love to read something with him and drarry as a ''main'' topic!
I absolutely adore Scorpius and dad Draco, I'll do this so happily! I'm adding onto these lists: Drarry + Scorpius & Draco and Scorpius are mutually protective
Close Behind by @oflights (134k)
To rescue Draco from the Underworld, Harry has to look forward. Unfortunately, Draco has to look back.
Burn the Witch by @lettersbyelise (95k)
When Harry Potter is sent in to investigate Draco Malfoy’s successful potions company, posing as Draco’s bodyguard, he doesn’t know the case will launch a series of events that will change his life — and Draco’s.
A story about choices, scars, Chopin piano pieces, and finding all kinds of love in the most unexpected places.
Fire Meet Gasoline by @lettersbyelise (62k)
When Draco’s anger management issues land him in St Mungo’s, he thinks his Quidditch career is over. But Harry, A&E Healer and notorious workaholic, is faced with a similar predicament. To save their jobs, the two of them decide to fake a relationship. All they have to do is convince their friends and employers… and not fall in love in the process. Simple, right?
Shibboleths by @lol-zeitgeistic (109k)
Muggle Immersion co-Professor Harry Potter spends his days hanging with his son, reading to his “dog,” teaching magical kids about the internet with his cousin Dudley, and irritating Snape’s portrait. He’s understandably annoyed when his cosy life is interrupted by the Headmistress hiring on Draco Malfoy to be Hogwarts’ new Ancient Magical Cultures and Spellcasting professor. But then the explosion happens, and it turns out they’ll all need Malfoy’s knowledge if they want the magical world to survive. The one with the scary things and Professor Dudley.
Harry Potter: DILF Hunter by @vukovich (11k)
Auror Potter doesn't know what a DILF is, but if Malfoy's one, then Harry's gonna be the Ministry's best DILF Hunter ever!
Or, five times Harry heard Draco was a DILF, and one time he found it to be pleasantly true.
Freedom to be by @quicksilvermaid (169k)
Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect. Until one day he stumbles across a club called Release and begins a journey of self-discovery that takes him to a very different place.
Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (15k)
Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. Living with Draco (biscuit-lover, no work/life balance, good hair) and his son Scorpius (also biscuit-lover, colour-codes his bricks, proud bearer of plastic swan-shaped garden ornament) gives Harry the routine and companionship he’s always craved. There’s also the matter of the really great sex (because what’s a marriage of convenience without a little fun, after all?) It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year… This isn't the story of the marriage. This is the story of two hurt and damaged men who learned how hard they could work for the sake of love.
Play Dates by @bixgirl1 (7k)
Harry never thought seeing Malfoy as a dad would affect him this way.
All I Want For Christmas (Is For You To Stop Talking) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon (162k)
The Niffler's Garden is the most prestigious wizarding nursery school in England and has been for the last century or more. Harry Potter's boys are both enrolled as pupils at the Garden. When he volunteers to assist with the Yule pageant, he has no idea that he'll be working closely with another parent, Draco Malfoy. Although they haven't seen each other much since their own school days, Harry faults Malfoy for not being a hands-on dad to little Scorpius. Will the intense weeks of preparation fan the fires of enmity or something else entirely?
Predictable Little Curses by brightowl (14k)
Two single fathers. One rather inconvenient bonding spell.
Harry Potter's biggest fan by @gnarf (9k)
Ever since Scorpius heard about Harry Potter for the first time from one of his friends, one could say that he was his biggest fan. So naturally, it would be the thing he needs to talk about while visiting his grandparents for Sunday dinner. Draco's father could not hold back the comments on why he had to go through this again, and Scorpius understood just enough to know that his father actually knew Harry Potter in person. That's when the pestering started. Not much later and Draco found himself face to face with Potter, all thanks to his son.
In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning by @sassy-cissa (16k)
Fourteen years ago Harry and Draco had one night together. It takes a stunt from Scorpius to bring them back together.
Harry Potter and the Great Cat Caper by @kbrick (78k)
Harry’s lonely in the aftermath of his divorce. Except for the weekends that he has the kids, Harry’s cooking gourmet meals for one in his big, empty farmhouse, with only his seven cats for company. Until, that is, Harry finds Al and Lily playing with Scorpius Malfoy in the front yard, and learns that Draco Malfoy is his closest wizarding neighbor. Oh, and also, Harry’s favorite cat is stolen (multiple times!) by someone who had the audacity to put a sparkly pink collar on her, with a nametag that reads “Plumeria Seraphin Snugglybug”. These things (Malfoy and the cat-snatching) may or may not be related. Featuring: a cat-loving Harry who loves to cook, has playdates with Pansy Parkinson, and tends to rap when he’s wasted, and good-dad Draco Malfoy who’s still a prat, albeit an irritatingly attractive and charming one. Also featuring: a slew of adorable children, a stolen cat named Stormy, copious amounts of sexual tension, divorce betting pools, amoral yet charismatic Slytherins, peeping-tom Harry, foot massages given while under the influence, Harry’s first time with a bloke, and did I mention cats?
Our Time by @m0srael (39k)
Draco Malfoy is an expert in Ancient Runes at Oxford University’s College of Advanced Magical Studies. When he isn’t at the head of a lecture hall, he spends his time alone in cavernous libraries with only crumbling scrolls and runic dictionaries for company. One day, a group of Ministry officials interrupts his research with the aim of recruiting him to lead an elite team of investigators in a top-secret race against time to decrypt a set of recently uncovered ancient runes that threaten the very fabric of time. Draco feels certain he can save the world, if only he didn’t keep getting distracted by his co-lead, one Chief Cursebreaker Harry Potter. If only that distraction didn’t evolve into something so much more.
the long ways by @oknowkiss (10k)
Five times Harry thought he was seeing Draco for the last time, and one time he didn’t.
OR: what it’s like to fall in love, slowly and without realizing it, over the course of 20 years.
Destination: Wedding by @mars-bar81 (31k)
Harry keeps accidentally getting married by not knowing the customs of cultures he visits and Draco is his long-suffering divorce attorney. Is Harry doing it on purpose? Are the people he’s marrying doing it on purpose? Is everyone involved just an idiot? Read on and find out!
All Missing Things (Can Be Found) by daisymondays (100k)
After a drunken hook up ends badly, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have no intention of ever speaking again -- but when they're assigned to solve a case of young child disappearances, they have to put their past behind them.
A Down and Out Christmas by @maraudersaffair (20k)
It’s Christmas and Draco and Scorpius have nowhere to go. Enter very sexy and very single Harry Potter.
The Opposite of Amnesia by @burning-up-ao3 (39k)
Draco's home has layers of old, dark magic that he can't remove. He has to hire the best person to keep him and Scorpius safe. Even if that person is Harry Potter.
When Hippogriffs and Pygmy Puffs Collide by oldenuf2b (32k)
Harry Potter bakes cakes, brilliantly. Draco Malfoy inks tattoos, brilliantly. Owls deliver post, including messages from clients, with an occasional lack of brilliance.
Trust In Me by unadulteratedstorycollector (7k)
Harry is met with blinding pain and Draco Malfoy. And Draco Malfoy's beautiful son. And suddenly a family is something that seems very within Harry's reach.
Misunderstandings are as easy as A-B-C by @veelawings (3k)
A slow blink and Potter seemed to catch himself, clearing his throat and nodding, his smile friendly and bright when directed at Scorpius and Draco. “Hey Mal—” “Mr Potter,” Draco spoke up rudely, but necessary. “This is my son, Scorpius Black. He’ll be one of your students this year.” Potter looked completely wrongfooted for a few seconds before his mind appeared to latch onto the most likely conclusion. His expression cleared up as Scorpius took a step forward and offered a tiny hand. “Hello, Mr Potter. It’s nice to meet you,” Scorpius said, enunciation steady and practiced.
Potter-Malfoy Negotiations by dracogotgame (1k)
It's Al's first day at preschool and Harry is a bundle of nerves. But he's certainly not alone.
Head in the Game by Samyiswriting (16k)
Harry and Malfoy shagged. But it’s fine, Harry doesn’t have feelings for him or anything. Yet he isn’t too thrilled when Malfoy gets hired as a Sports Therapist for Harry’s team – Puddlemere United. Of course, he gives massages. And of course, Harry has to bear witness to Malfoy making player after player groan in pleasure.
Have A Little Faith by @erin-riwen (16k)
When a sick child brings Harry and Draco back together, it’s up to Harry to figure out how to convince Draco that dating him really is a good idea.
Rebel, Rebel by @makeitp1nk (28k)
Thirty-six year old Harry Potter is the coolest bloke in muggle Camden Town. That’s right — he’s left the wizarding world behind and has been living his best life ever since. But will one chance encounter with a certain blond from his past change everything? Yeah, probably.
destination, destiny and definition by panicparade (17k)
It all starts with a blind date and a very confused Harry Potter..
Thanking You In Advance by @ladderofyears (13k)
When Draco Malfoy fled from Harry Potter's life it was without even a goodbye. He was left lonely and bereft. Now, almost nine years later it is Christmastime and Draco has returned to London, complete with a Scorpius-shaped surprise that Harry truly wasn't expecting. Can the two wizards get over the hurt of the past and seize the happy future that they both deserve?
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Ep. 8 "Bad Territory" Review
This episode was honestly the fluff I needed after last week's tense and crazy two parter. There was the usual action and excitement, but I loved the amount of fluff we got. Omega is forever our little ray of sunshine. I feel a bad feeling that it's going to get much darker after this week so I'll take any fluff I can get.
As always, spoilers below
It was really cool to see Fennec again and it makes senes that out of all the bounty hunters, the boys would choose to seek her out. She was originally after Omega, but she's not needlessly cruel like Cad Bane. If Omega's life were truly in danger, I don't think Fennec would want to see her get hurt. Cad Bane wouldn't give a second thought about it. Speaking of the ending, I definitely think she was talking to Ventress or someone like Quinlan. After all, Ventress is a Force-wielder and could be connected to whatever Hemlock is doing.
Overall, I really liked the interactions between her, Hunter, and Wrecker. Their banter was great and the joke about the Batch being straight up broke had me cackling. Like yes, these 5 guys with a kid are clearly enjoying Space Greece or whatever the fandom calls it. They're not gonna be looking for jobs right now. I also enjoyed seeing the boys use their skills like Wrecker's demolitions knowledge again. It's been so, so long since we've seen the boys go on a classic mission. That's not a bad thing either to have an "adventure of the week" style episode. It was cool to see them back in action (you know, non lethally).
The environment looked great, Wrecker and Hunter throwing hands with gators was pretty epic, and the final fight with the other bounty hunter (?) was exciting. I'll admit, the antagonist's design was cool and it allowed from some fun fight choreography.
Shoutout to the Phee cameo btw! Love seeing her as always. I think she'll be back after the Pabu invasion or she'll be back in time for that event to happen. Crosshair not knowing who she or Fennec was though was pretty funny. He's missed so much. (Also, this is the first time we hear him call Echo by his name fun fact).
Of course, Crosshair and Omega were the standouts because their dynamic is just that good. They're finally getting Crosshair's hand addressed! And I'm so glad Hunter stepped up to make sure it got looked at. Hunter loves Crosshair despite the past and he will look out for him. As many of us thought already, Crosshair's tremors are psychosomatic. We don't what happened on Tantiss (aside from some vague details), but whatever it was, it was bad; real bad. Crosshair is afraid of talking about it because it hurts. His reactions to even thinking about it were heartbreaking.
My theory is that Hemlock did something that broke a part of his identity. Maybe the identity erasure almost worked. Maybe he had Crosshair kill someone during a trial session to see if the reconditioning worked. Whatever it was, it traumatized Crosshair (on top of everything else he went through). For Crosshair to move forward, he's going to have to confront his trauma. He'll need to accept what happened to him and learn that it doesn't define who he is now.
Omega is so gentle and patient with him; I absolutely love it. She doesn't push him nor does she just leave him to get trapped in his mind. Instead, she tries to teach him coping mechanisms. The way he trusts her is so good too. Crosshair doesn't know what to do, but here is sister whom he loves. She's never left his side since they were imprisoned together and she was the only one who really advocated for him back in season 1. This girl loves him and he loves her. The scene where she holds his hand because it won't stop trembling genuinely means so much to me. It's such a small gesture that means so much. I really do appreciate that the writers are taking their time to show Crosshair going through the healing process. His hand doesn't get magically fixed because he escaped Tantiss nor because he redeemed himself. He achieved that. Now, he needs to finish the rest of his journey. AZI even mentions that it could be permanent. Real life mental health issues don't disappear in one night nor do they go away permanently. It comes and goes and that's what Crosshair will have to do. He'll have to cope with his trauma and hopefully the tremor will steady over time.
Many have pointed it out, but I would love to see a scene with him and Echo. Echo understands Crosshair's plight as he too was held captive and subjected to horrific experiments. I hope we get a scene between them where Echo comforts him. It would be a nice moment between two characters who often don't interact much.
Aside from that, the animation and music were great as always. That last scene of Cross and Omega meditating while Pabu's sun begins to set is truly gorgeous and it might be my favorite landscape shot of the show. It's also reminiscent of Hunter and Crosshair together on Barton IV. I am truly so happy to see Crosshair finding peace and happiness after so long. I honestly never thought we'd see him like this. But now, we do. (Side note: he looks so much smaller and vulnerable without his backpack or shoulder pads).
Anyways, I could go on and on about Crosshair. But I'll save that for another post. Can't wait for next week and hopefully we'll see Ventress!
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maxislvt · 1 year
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I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa
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Summary: You'd do anything to give your boys a good Christmas
Warning: None
A/N: my awful humor plagues the narrative another day
Event Masterlist
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For many people, two kids during Christmas was a financial death sentence. For the Maximoff family, it was usually just a hospital bill if you were lucky. Christmas was like a whimsical curse on you and your family. Fun times and at least one scrapbook-worthy injury in the family.
When you and Wanda first started dating, they were small things. Pietro ran face-first into the world's sharpest wreath and needed stitches. Then, Wanda had broken her wrist after getting locked in her family shed. Finally, the Christmas before you two got married, you got a nosebleed from being hit in the face with a vodka bottle.
When the twins were born, it seemed the curse had disappeared. Maybe someone would get the flu or a small cold, but you were blessed with peaceful Christmases for quite some time. Unfortunately, that beautiful streak was about to break. You could just feel it. As your children grew older, they became more reckless. Well, it was mostly Tommy and his hectic super speed, but even Billy started to have random bursts of magical powers.
"Wanda, I'm worried about the curse," You said, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep was the last thing on your mind as you were plagued with visions of every accident that happened. All the tiny bruises you, your wife, and her brother had collected over the years. The mark on Pietro's forehead is barely hidden by the fluff of his bangs, the slash on your eyebrow, and the lighting strike across your girlfriend's lips. "I mean, I know the boys think ours are cool, but I would like for my kids to not look like a gently tossed sack of partially peeled potatoes.
Wanda snickered and rolled over to face you. "And what makes you say that?" Her hand cupped your face and gently ran her thumb over your eyebrow. "Also, they're not gonna look like potatoes. Even if they do, they're kids, they get all kinds of crazy scars and misadventures." Despite being a witch, your wife wasn't nearly as superstitious as you were. Not that she didn't believe in bloodline curses, just didn't believe you or she had one.
You sighed and wiggled closer to your wife. "I know, but I just don't want them to get hurt. The hospital staff knows us by our first name now, and that's not a good look for any of us." Wanda normally supported your ramblings and crazy idea, but you could never get her to take your side on that argument. "I mean with Billy's magic and Tommy running around at the speed of everything, something is bound to go wrong!"
Wanda pulled you in for a kiss. "Baby, the people at the hospital know you by your first name because you're an Avenger and the boys will learn to control their powers soon enough. Just relax, okay?"
You sighed and pulled Wanda into your chest. "Fine, but if someone ends up in the hospital, it's on you."
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"Pietro, this is the worst idea I have ever heard in my entire life."
The Santa suit, fake beard, and big red bag laid out a recipe for disaster. Pietro's plan was exactly what your anxiety-ridden heart didn't need. One of you was to dress up as the big red man and jump down the chimney to give the kids the best Christmas memory ever.
"Isn't this exactly how Tony broke his leg trying to make Morgan happy? I love the boys, but I'm not exactly looking forward to another medical bill." You used your foot to gently kick at the huge bag one of you was supposed to bring down a chimney. "Also, there's no way this thing is gonna fit down my chimney. You could barely drag this thing into the room."
Pietro shrugged. "Yes, it is how he broke his leg, but he isn't as cool as either of us. This plan is foolproof!" Many people struggled to comprehend how twins could be so different. Wanda was tense and forever cautious. Pietro was nothing short of impulsive and thoughtless. "Think of the kids! They'll be so happy."
Eventually, you conceded. "Fine, but if I have to go down that chimney, you're dressing up like an elf!" You begrudgingly snatched the suit and beard from your brother-in-law and made your way to the bathroom. "Also, you forced me into this if Wanda gets mad!" Though you were an adult with your autonomy, your wife had the final say in most things. If she wanted a winter break with no powers, you'd follow that command to a T. Unless Pietro had hyped you up into doing otherwise. "I look…ridiculous."
Pietro opened the bathroom door to reveal his half of the costume. Pointed ears, green and white striped hat, and the dumb elf outfit you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing. "We look great, now grab the bag and let's toss you up on that roof!" Before you could argue, he picked you up and sped straight up the side of the house. "Okay, I'm gonna go wake up Billy and Tommy, you just wait here, and in about a minute just jump down and be all jolly! Got it? Good!"
You nodded, but Pietro had already left. For the sake of a happy wife, excited children, and safe Christmas, you decided not to think about how scary it was to be alone on top of a snowy roof. Refusing to believe it'd take a minute to get both of your beloved sons out of bed, you simply jumped down the chimney without much thought. Unfortunately, the sack was much too big and you had to let go. That had only gotten you about an extra three inches down the opening before being officially stuck. "Fuck!" Was all you could shout before desperately kicking your feet back and forth.
Pietro sped back up the roof and pulled the sack out of the chimney. He peered down the shaft and his jaw nearly dropped. "Dude, are you stuck?"
"No, I decided to get comfy in the chimney just to try it out. Yes, I'm fucking stuck! Go call my wife!"
After an interesting game of magical Twister and one broken chimney, you were freed from the confines of your brick prison and taken to the hospital. There was no time for you to change so you were sent in an ambulance, big beard and all. Fortunately, your wife was more so endeared by your commitment than horrified by the situation.
"So, is there a Mrs.Claus?" Wanda asked smoothly as she snuggled up in your hospital bed. She laughed as you groaned out in embarrassment. "Come on, I thought that was really cute!"
"You're only saying that because you're not hopped up on six different pain meds and don't have stitches." You grumbled but leaned against your wife to get some comfort. Her warm body eased the blistering cold that mercilessly attacked your wounds. "I told you we were cursed, but nooo!"
Wanda giggled and peppered kisses all over your face. "I think it's less of us being cursed and more of my brother having bad ideas." She wrapped you up in her arms and smiled. "Now rest up. The faster we get out of here, the faster we can get home to the boys. "
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keehlmyself · 3 months
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late night christmas headcanons with (some) the death note cast!
this post will include: light, l lawliet, misa, matsuda, near, mello, matt & sayu.
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— ' its the most wonderful time of the year ! '
LIGHT YAGAMI ★ [pre/no-kira!]
unsurprisingly, light is a very considerate gift giver. on one hand he tries to get gifts that will be more beneficial in the long run! at the same time he attempts to get something that he knows the person will like.
i can imagine light would be the kind of person to end up scouring the store for something affordable, useful and still likable. (spoiler! he fails to find items that fall into all three categories)
his gift-wrapping is neat. his mother, sachiko, taught him how to wrap gifts at the ripe age of 7. ever since then, he helps her every christmas :)
most items on wish list are stationary, up until little specific things — like a certain keychain or an expensive book.
one of his favourite things about christmas is the cookies that his mom makes. his favourites are (of course) the classic chocolate chip and simple vanilla biscuits.
he used to believe in santa when he was younger until the illusion and magic was ruined for him. as a result, while sayu was still young, he made sure that she'd continue to believe and have something to look forward to every christmas.
one time, he got L for a secret santa activity. he was fully aware that L was already rich. he could have anything he wanted! and so, he decided to make his own gift (with misa's assistance).
L LAWLIET ★
when he was younger, christmas was quite bleak at wammy's. other kids seemed to have fun but he just found himself incredibly uninterested in the holiday.
still, watari would get him gifts — and secretly? he felt appreciated.
years later, the kira task force would somehow find themselves discussing their holiday plans. L had decided to allow everyone to take a few days off (as pushed by his mentor, watari) to celebrate christmas with their families.
matsuda (bless his soul) decides to go ahead and suggest an office christmas party! at first, L is hesitant..
but he accepts. obviously.
with their basically infinite budget, the food is to die for. cakes, ice cream, meats, a few traditional meals from across the world..
secretly, this was L's quiet way of showing his own appreciation to everyone.
now you're probably wondering, 'what are his gifts like?' ... honestly lame. it depends; but for the most part, his gifts rely on practicality.
misa gave him shampoo for christmas once. and deodorant. and slippers. she wasn't trying to be mean, she just thought L didn't know those things existed and she wanted to guide him..
if you aren't upfront on what you want for christmas, he'll give you stationary, socks, utensils, etc.
MISA AMANE ★
misa is serving absolute cunt in that outfit she's wearing. she went all out - went shopping just for this. she's the type to wear little cute scarves, arm warmers, beanies.. and she looks good in them.
her gift giving abilities are god-like for the most part. she shops in advance and asks people for their wish lists
cute gift wrappers!! candy print, little cats, reindeer, hearts, etc. definitely for lights gift: she'd wrap it in hearts! (he did not reciprocate..)
at times, she worries she won't be able to spend christmas with her family (mostly just the task force) due to her modelling and acting career. she has to constantly do photoshoots, film commercials, and it stresses her out.
to make up for it: she drinks hot chocolate. and her hot chocolate is always the cutest. cute mugs, cute marshmallows, etc. but it still tastes good.
she taught sayu how to do her hot chocolate recipe! (it was barely her own recipe, she just adds alot of cute little etuff)
she's the type of gift wrapper to put ribbons on her gifts.
when asked about what she wanted for christmas, she said something cheesy like; 'anything as long as lights there'
TOUTA MATSUDA ★
christmas party planner 4everrrr
buys gifts a few months too early, our considerate king.
draws/doodles on the gift tags! (taught by misa)
he nagged watari to teach him to make cookies. he wanted to make some christmas cookies for L, in hopes that he'd win his apprpval.
wears ugly christmas sweaters a few days before christmas.
and so, this conversation ensued;
L: 'that sweater looks rather old.' Matsu: 'what? no, its barely been used' L: 'ah. it mustve been rotting in your closet.'
loves the concept of santa claus. has tried to make watari dress up as santa.
when he was younger, his parents brought him to talk to santa! by this time, matsuda already new santa claus wasnt real.
and so, he had an existential crisis the moment he realized that there was infact a white haired-white bearded man, clad in red.. and may be his childhood hero.
he liked rudolph alot and for one Halloween, he dressed up as him
NEAR ★
christmas at wammys was especially tiring for him. the children screaming, the sound of wrapping paper ripping being heard throughout the entire orphanage.. wasn't for him!
he didn't have many friends so he never really received any gifts.
his first ever gift was from linda — it meant alot to him. it was a little paper origami doll of him. it was taped horribly.
his family before the orphanage? he couldn't really remember, so along with that, he couldn't remember the christmases they had.
near gives gifts when he can.. by that, when or if he remembers.
his gifts range from socks to an entire mansion. he's not very responsible with his money.
HATES the mistletoe. one time he was under it the same time as mello. did they kiss? no, but mello did chase him around.
now sorta looks forward to christmas because of eggnog and all the toys he gets out of it. he gets ALOT of toys.
he dislikes carollers. he thinks they're too noisy. one time, he and a few other kids were forced to perform a sonf infront of everyone as part of the wammy's christmas party..
he was stood still and stayed quiet the entire time.
MELLO ★
he had alot of items on his wish list. most predominantly; accessories, clothes and of course.. chocolate.
mello is given a LOT of chocolate every christmas — with the exception of near who gave him a toothbrush out of mild concern.
his gifts are the best. by that, he just gets whatever the person wants (but at times gets everything)
mello just wants to be better than everyone when it comes to the gifts. and everything. there's a reasoning behind it, being; from a young age he always thought that if he gave the most and got the most, it would mean that everyone would like him.
there's a secret mostly one sided competition between near, matt and mello every year over who gives and receives the most gifts.
he gets into multiple fights with near, which results in him dumping a glass of eggnog down near's back.
near was not happy with the disgusting feel of wet clothes stuck to his skin. insert him literally SCREAMING
the closest person of authority in the area was giving mello a look of, 'make him stop or so help me'
wears all black to a christmas party with the exception of a red christmas hat
MATT ★
his wishlist is a little expensive, mostly 'cause it's all video game related — and clothes. did he list the clothes? no, mello did, 'cause matt's clothes are starting to fall apart at the seams.
he and mello think the christmas games are lame but they participate anyway. matts always helping mello win.
matt absolutely half asses his gifts! unless you're someone he likes or has a crush on.
lowkey pigs out during the christmas feast. he has fast metabolism so it doesn't really affect his body, but he does receive these wide-eyed looks from mello like 'holy shit you're gonna eat ALL of that?'
sings christmas songs to annoy everyone. definitely.
when he was younger, he wasn't really able to celebrate christmas properly with his family. i headcanon that he got into wammy's at a really young age and that he was there when near first arrived too.
he might not seem like it but he was one of the people (like linda) to try and make christmas a little more happy and sweet for the newcomers/the younger kids in the orphanage. he didn't want them to experience the same dissappointment and upset he felt every christmas when he was still with his family.
matt plays holiday pranks on everyone.
this is contradictory to the headcanon i made before the last, but he once told a random kid on the street santa claus wasn't real and it started crying.
SAYU YAGAMI ★
when she was younger, she'd save up all her allowance so she could buy her family gifts. admittedly — sayu's gifts never really aligned much with whatever was on their christmas lists. but she was so sweet, how could they reject?
sayu once got her and light matching slippers. hers were bunny slippers and his was dog slippers. (based off of this)
she believed santa was real up until the age of 15. she got a little angsty around those years..
her wishlist is mostly things like nail polish, certain percume, journaling books, clothes — but one year she wanted a pet mouse.. so she wrote down mouse.
well, sachiko wasn't a big fan of rodents. so instead she got her a computer mouse. and a new PC to go along with it. sayu liked it! she did want a computer too, yes..
she was salty about the pet mouse thing for the next 2 weeks though.
can't wrap gifts to save her life. she's the gift giver who puts her gifts into those paperbags and puts a ribbon sticker.
sayu loves to bake cookies with her mom. even after the events (yes, when she was traumatized to all hell by mello and the mafia) of death note, she continued to bake with her every christmas.
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The first batch of pictures for Amoré's character journal are here! Also I have been so super sick that I've literally had nothing to do but to work on this for like almost 2 weeks so...
The cover to cover tour officially starts here. All I can say about the front & back is that I lament my lack of experience with my Cricut when I made these decals. I only had 2 "fun" colors to work with at the time & I was still getting comfortable drawing in Procreate, so my silhouette art leaves a lot to be desired compared to some stuff I've made recently. I also found it's incredibly easy to burn this leather book.
But she's volume one, everything with her is a learning experience, & I realized as much as it helps to have a mini heat press for tight corners & small spaces, the cloth barrier they suggest you use between the vinyl & the iron tends to make things harder to press on this scale. So instead I gotta quickly tap straight on the transfer film & hope I don't burn anything around it :(´◦ω◦`):゚゚
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So at the risk of thoroughly exposing my inner theater kid, Amoré set the precedent with how I went forward creating campaign characters. I started off collecting 5 songs to make a mini story arc (almost like a show choir set list 🙃) that helps me figure out an outline for the kind of story I wanna give them.
Somehow Amoré ended up with a truly horrendous blend of rock & theatre. Absolutely incredibe. No wonder she's always such a dramatic bitch.
It was a lot easier to go in & add little decals around these lyrics. I'm definitely cursed with the Too Much™ gene, but I enjoy the little pops of color they give ✨ plus it justifies me hoarding all these vinyl scraps printing stuff this small lol.
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Stat sheet!
In all honesty, as my first character I had no fucking clue what I was doing when I placed these & if I could go back & change one thing I'd probably swap her Intelligence & her Wisdom. She’s definitely more people smart than book smart.
But everything else is...very accurate. She has all the upper body strength of a chicken nugget. Plus on top of the (already) negative I traded disadvantage on everything DEX for magic crystal shoes that can be periodically harvested. Just a way for her to carry around the family fortune without actually having to return to the vault✨
For something that started so average, her CON became a monster & always comes in clutch for her alcohol tolerance. I've played variations of her across a few different one shots & I always manage to roll well for anything alcohol related. The dice do respect a bit 🤣
Spells on the other hand, I floundered with a lot at first because we’re not a combat heavy game, but then I found Chaos Bolt & that was that. It’s essentially Amoré in spell form & I’ve had a ton of fun with it over the years. Also Mage Armor cuz my girl is SO DISTRESSINGLY SQUISHY.
Cantrips were more or less a bit of a toss up. Message was fun for the sheer idea of her using it to talk shit during social events without being caught. But aside from Light serving fun backstory purposes the other 3 are kinda just what looked fun ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ unless you count the idea that she would absolutely delight in zapping handshakes.
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From there, I wanted to extend the world map made by our wonderful DM @cappierong into a full scroll. Ya know, for the aesthetic ✨
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Our campaign started in Civania, where Amoré's main Estate is. I just wanted a quick mock up to reference, so I edited a preexisting picture I found that checked all the boxes (large, on a plateau, accessible only by bridge) and then absolutely smothered it in flowers.
But anyways... This is primarily where Diana & Amoré grew up together in their decade of backstory ✨
There was probably waaaay to much back & forth trying to keep the continuity between stuff I've already drawn & this big reference. But I think it turned out pretty ok? Not like if I make a mistake anyone will really know lol.
Scaling was also another big issue I had, & I moments where I thought something was too big I just kinda handwaved it away like "ehhhhh she's from a stupid rich family." But now I have a NEED to draw baby Diana & Amoré around like, the statue gardens or something cuz I feel like certain parts of this place are definitely ominous 👀 especially for children...
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And lastly we have the back cover & the High Noble political relationship map! I normally have this closer to the front but for layout purposes it'll be here. I kinda feel like I need to do more for the decoration of it but I can’t think of anything else to add at the moment.
Sam if u read that no you didn't.
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But now! Other than a family portrait that I've always wanted to draw, I think I'm ready to move onto the art for Season 1 : Arc 2. It's a pretty hefty amount of art in comparison to others, so I gotta get busy. Especially since I think I'm gonna have to draw a few comics *sobs*
If you made it this far, thanks so much for reading! I'm always excited to talk out our little idiots so thanks for indulging me ❀(*´▽`*)❀
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animesmolbean · 1 month
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A World of Pure Imagination
Author's Note: WONKA was officially released on DVD today! Whoo!!
This chapter was so much fun to write! I had the whole scene for the song thought out for weeks! I hope you enjoy it! ♥️
Chapter 5: Just For A Moment
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The trio walked through the zoo with flashlights. Yin and Noodle gazed around at all the animals, entranced, then Noodle frowned as they passed a lake filled with flamingos.
"Why don't they fly away?" She asked.
Willy shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps they haven't thought of it." He replied.
"You're kidding." Noodle said.
"I don't think he is." Yin jumped into the conversation.
Wonka turned around as he walked to look at the two. "Yin's right. I'm serious. That's the thing about flamingos. They're flock animals. They need someone to show them the way."
'I know someone who could.' Yin thought to himself as he looked at Wonka.
They skip into a backstage corridor. Various doors open onto different enclosures. Willy looks for one marked "Giraffe."
"Where are we? Giraffe.... giraffe... Ah! Giraffe!"
Yin's eyes widened. "Wait, no, no, no!"
He opens a door clearly marked "TIGER" - and is immediately confronted by a snarling beast who changes at him. Yin, thinking fast but not too clearly, runs to Willy and gets in front of him, protecting him from the striped cat. Noodle slams the door in a nick of time. Yin sighed in relief.
"You have got to learn how to read!" Noodle said, a bit panicked from the experience. Yin turned to look at Willy and nodded in agreement.
"Why?"
"You were nearly eaten by a tiger!" Noodle exclaimed.
"Nearly" is the key word there, Noodle. I've nearly been eaten by a lot of things. And none of them got more than a nibble." Willy said a bit crazed.
Yin snorted at Willy's words and covered his mouth with his hand, blushing lightly when he realized how loud it was.
Willy smiled amusingly at the adorable boy. Noodle shook her head and opened the door marked "Giraffe."
"Giraffe." She pointed out.
Willy walked into the stall, Noodle and Yin a pace behind. They look up at the great and elegant creature. Willy doffs his hat.
"Good evening, um..."
Yin read a sign. "Abigail."
"Abigail." Willy finished.
The giraffe starts to make a scene, not liking intruders. Noodle is alarmed, Yin was calm.
"Whoa there! Easy now. I've brought acacia mints." Willy pulled out a handful of mints. The giraffe reaches down inquisitively and sniffles the handful of mints. Noodle and Yin watched, enchanted, as Willy started to scratch Abigail under her chin.
"Giraffes are just crazy about my acacia mints. Love them more than anything else. Except being scratched under the chin. See?"
Abigail did indeed look like she was enjoying the experience.
"Want to give it a go?" Willy asked the two.
Yin nodded, and Willy guided him to Abigail.
"Hi Abigail. My name is Yin. My, you're a beautiful lady." He spoke softly to the majestic creature. He started to scratch underneath her chin. Abigail, in response, nuzzled her head against Yin's face. Yin giggled and nuzzled his forehead against her snout.
Willy was impressed and enchanted by Yin handling Abigail so gently. Yin spoke so softly and sweetly to the creature and even did something he never did. He was formal and treated her with so much care, and she responded in kind, letting her guard down. 'He's so perfect.' He thought to himself.
"Wanna try Noodle?" Willy asked, after snapping out of his trance.
"Okay...." Noodle was hesitant at first, but after Abigail responded positively to her scratches, she smiled broadly. Abigail reached forward and licked Noodle appreciatively. Willy and Yin both chuckled.
"I think she likes you." Willy told her. Then he turned back to the giraffe. "Now, Miss Abigail, if my colleague here gives you a good scratch, could you possibly spare us a pint or two of your milk?"
(Mini Time Skip)
After setting up, Willy stands his cane magically on the ground. He pushes a button, and the arms of a coat hanger flip out from the side. He hangs his coat over it. But, instead of hanging his hat there too, he placed it on top of Yin's head.
Yin laughs and adjusts the hat on his head. As he did, he caught Willy staring at him, a curious look on his face. Yin felt a blush rise onto his cheeks as the gorgeous chocolatier moved closer and looked at him. After a few seconds, he pulled away and smiled widely.
"It looks good on you, Yin." He complimented. Yin blushed hard but laughed. "Thank you, Willy, but you look the best with it." He said, smiling shyly. Willy only hummed and went over to Abigail to start the task. Yin took off the top hat and hung it on the cane.
He went over to the wall behind the cane and leaned against it. He watched Willy starting to milk the giraffe while Noodle was up on a rickety step ladder scratching its chin - and enjoying it.
"Have you done this before?" Noodle asked.
"Once. In Africa. Magnificent beast." Willy replied.
"Was she wild?" Yin asked.
Willy laughed. "Wild? She was absolutely furious! But once my hands warmed up, I think she kind of liked it."
Yin and Noodle smile fondly.
"You sure can be silly, Willy." Noodle told him.
"I suppose that's true-dle Noodle."
"True-dle?" Noodle was confused. Yin laughed.
"That doesn't work, does it? But nothing rhymes with Noodle. Where'd you get that name anyway?" Willy asked.
Noodle frowned. "Doesn't matter."
Before Yin could retort, Willy encouraged her, "Go on."
Noodle showed Willy an amber and gold ring that she kept on a string around her neck. The letter "N" engraved in the middle.
"It's all I have from my parents. See? 'N' for Noodle. Or Nora, or Nina - or nothing at all." Noodle continued.
"Noodle." Yin gently scolded.
"Can't you trace the owner?" Willy asked. This time, Yin replied, "I've tried. I've been to every jewelry store in the city." Willy looked at Yin as he told him before he looked back at Noodle, feeling for her. Noodle turns back to Abigail. After a moment, she regained courage and spoke again.
"When I was a kid, I always hoped I'd find my parents. They'd live in this beautiful old building full of books. And my mom would be waiting for me at the door and I'd run into her arms and she's give me this big hig like she wouldn't ever let me go. But then I realized it was just a stupid dream."
Willy looked at Noodle, feeling deeply moved.
Yin felt his eyes well up with tears. He remembered when Noodle first told him that he was almost moved to tears. He wished he could see his family again. Give them the biggest hugs and never leave them. He walked closer to the pair and Abigail.
"There's nothing stupid about it. I've told you, Noodle. There's nothing wrong with dreams." Yin told Noodle.
Willy agreed. "What about you, Yin? What's your dream?"
Yin looked down at his boots. After a few moments, he found the courage to speak.
"I always dreamed about being with my family again. We lived in a beautiful home close to where the Gallery Gourmet is. They were always supportive of me. When I wanted to try something new, they encouraged me to do it." Yin spoke softly but still loud enough to be heard.
"But one day, I came home from school and saw police there. They told me that... my parents were gone."
Willy looked at the boy with sadness in his eyes. Tears were welling up in his eyes, too. "Do you know... how they died?" He asked carefully.
"Mom got sick, I think it was a virus of some sorts. Dad died shortly after her. Of a heart attack. But not from stress. I think it was a broken heart." Yin replied.
Willy was deeply saddened by the story. "Yin, I'm so sorry." He whispered. Yin smiled faintly at Willy. "It's all right. They're in a better place."
"I know things haven't been easy for you two. But they're going to get better. Noodle, I'm not going to let you rot in that wash house forever. And Yin, I won't let you wander off alone anymore."
"You promise?" The two asked.
"I can do better than that." Willy went over to Noodle and held out his pinky. "I Pinkie Promise. And that's the most solemn vow there is."
Touched by his concern, Noodle Pinkie promised Willy. Willy then looked at Yin. "And I Pinkie Promise that you will never be alone again." Yin smiled softly, and the two Pinkie Promised.
"Now, get back to scratching Noodle. We don't have long until the guard comes to-dle Noodle." Willy beamed. "To-dle!"
"It's not a word." Noodle corrected.
"I'll keep working on it." Willy replied.
Yin chuckled softly as he watched. Then, he heard Noodle starting to sing.
🎵For a moment
Life doesn't seem quite so bad
For a moment
I kind of forgot to be sad
He turns night to day
But don't get carried away
Never let down your guard
Let them into your heart for a moment
Not for a moment🎵
Yin listened to her voice, swaying his head along with the rhythm. Then, he saw Willy stand up. He had finished milking Abigail. He turned to Noodle.
"Care to dance?"
Noodle shook her head. "No, thank you." She said, but Yin could tell she thought it was fun.
Yin thought Willy would ask him, but instead, he spoke, "I got it, Noodle! Listen to this," as he turned to where his cane stood, his coat and hat hanging from it like a shop mannequin. He picks up the cane and dances with it as if dancing with himself as he starts to sing.
🎵Noodle, Noodle,
Apple Streudel
Some people don't
And some people do-dle
Snakes, flamingos,
Bears and poodles
Singing this song
Will improve your moodle
Noodle-dee-dee, Noodle-dee-dum
We're having oodles and oodles of fun🎵
The two laughed at Willy as he goofed around. At one point, Willy looked at Yin and gave him a playful smirk, making him blush.
'Is he trying to tease me?!'
Willy puts his coat and hat on and spins the ladder Noodle was on. She squealed and leaped off, catching the lantern as she did. She is lowered to the ground and the trio race out together.
"Thanks, Abigail!"
The trio danced through the zoo.
(A/N: Willy: Purple
Noodle: Green
Yin: Blue)
🎵For a moment (Noodle, Noodle, apple streudel)
My life has turned upside-down (Some people don't and some people do-dle)🎵
Willy grabbed a bouquet of helium balloons from a stall. He wrapped his free arm around Yin, and instinctively, Yin wrapped his arm around him while wrapping the other around Noodle. Noodle wrapped both arms around Yin.
🎵For a moment (snakes, flamingos, bears, and poodles)
I can't keep my feet on the ground (Singing this song will improve your moodle)
The lift from the balloons makes them almost weightless. They ran across the flamingo lake, their feet barely making contact with the surface of the water. The flamingos wake as they pass and watch, astonished, as the trio rise from the water floating up and over the wall of the zoo. Inspired, the flamingos follow them.
He's the one good thing (Noodle-dee-dee, Noodle-dee-dum)
That's ever happened to me (We're having oodles and oodles of fun)🎵
The trio landed on the glass roof of the Galleria, and they started to dance. Yin grabbed Noodle's hands, and the two started a slow dance of just swaying back and forth. Yin then picked Noodle up and spun in a circle. Noodle laughed as Yin placed her back on the roof. In a flourish, Noodle spun Yin and gently pushed him towards Willy.
Willy took Yin's hands and started to properly waltz dance with him, one hand holding his, with the balloons. The other hand was on Yin's waist. Yin blushed as he placed his free hand on Willy's shoulder. The balloons gave the dance a light feeling, like it was aiding them.
Then, Willy stepped back and spun into the air with the balloons. The other two laughed and did cartwheels as Willy landed in front of them. He then gave Noodle the balloons, making her float up, and he grabbed her ankles as they started to walk. Yin stood in front of them, walking backward in rhythm with them, before spinning elegantly as Willy spun before spinning Noodle into the air.
Willy then grabbed Yin's hand as he ran to the tallest part of the Galleria, grabbed the pole, and started to walk in a circle. Yin smiled widely as he walked along with Willy, grabbing Noodle's hand, making her join the fun as she floated. Noodle was also smiling. Then, like magic, Willy started to walk on air as he walked in a circle, making the other two follow.
Eventually, a gust of wind takes a few of the balloons, breaking the spell , and they were blown off the roof. They float down and land in front of the frozen fountain. Noodle let go first and watched as the boys landed. Willy placed his free hand on Yin's waist, just like earlier, as Yin placed his free hand on Willy's shoulder. He looked into the beautiful chocolatier's eyes. 'They're hazel.' He thought to himself as he sung.
🎵For a moment
Life doesn't seem quite so bad
And for a moment
I kind of forgot to be sad🎵
Willy looked at Yin, his features soft as he listened to Yin sing. His voice was so soft but filled with emotion. 'He's so beautiful.' He thought to himself.
Yin looked at Willy. 'This man has brought so much joy into my life in the two days I've known him. He's kind, passionate, motivated, and... so beautiful.' He thought to himself.
'I think I love him.' The two thought together.
The two boys looked into each other's eyes, leaning closer and closer. Their foreheads touched, and their noses brushed against each other's. But just before their lips could touch-
*RING*
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ohisms · 2 years
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↪     𝑵𝑶𝑾 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑺𝑬𝑬 𝑴𝑬  .    (  a  series  of  sentence  starters  from  the  2013  film  “ now you see me ” .  adjust  phrasing  as  necessary .  )
come in close .  closer .
the more you think you see ,  the easier it’ll be to fool you .
pay close attention .
what have i been telling you all night ?
if you can get this bill from me ,  you can have it .
you’re a stick - up artist .
oh ,  i did it wrong ?
or ,  you could give me my hundred bucks .
stop that guy ,  he’s got my wallet !
are we ready to end this thing ?
a lady’s gotta have handcuffs ,  right girls ?
come on ,  this is bullshit !
whoever thought of this is a sick sadist .
i am your biggest fan .
i can do that trick 52 different ways .
you need to leave .
are you kidding me ?!  oh my god ,  this is so embarrassing .
don’t worry about it ,  i’ll call you .
you are such an asshole .
good for you ,  congratulations .
i will come back and get you ,  do not come in .
i think you know exactly what i’ve been up to ,  [ name ] .
let me be the first one to kick my ego to the curb .
the door’s locked .
thanks for keeping me honest .
i know who you are .
i’m sensing you are  ...  a control freak .
i take that as a compliment .
no way  ...  [ name ] ?
nothing’s ever locked .
what is this place ?
what do you think this is all about ?
okay ,  thank you .  thank you for the delay .
did you do this ?
the electricity’s out .
who do you think did this ?
we’re gonna do something never before seen on a las vegas stage .
tonight ,  we are going to rob a bank .
why don’t you watch it ,  then you can decide for yourself ?
can you please pick a card ,  any card  ...  not that card .
that wasn’t supposed to happen like that ,  was it ?
what do you see in there ?
what ?  i don’t think i heard you correctly .
please tell me this is a joke .
i look forwards to working with you ,  too .
i’m sorry ,  i don’t think i’m gonna need your help on this .
okay ,  i need a time-out .  too many french people in one room .
we can work together or you can continue to follow behind .
i’m not finished !
just answer the question ,  okay ,  smartass ?
i appreciate that trip down memory lane .
you ,  [ name ] ,  have a drawing board to get back to .
you are literally begging to be arrested .
i can maintain my resolve much longer than you can maintain that phony arrogance .
at no time will you be anywhere other than exactly where i want you to be .
always be the smartest guy in the room .
let me mull over that offer of cheap and meaningless sex .
that smile ,  on your face  ...  is it real ?
do you feel exploited ,  or did you maybe  -  have a tiny bit of fun ?
i’ve been watching you for a year ,  i know all of your little tricks .
i can be difficult to read when i wanna be .
let me try ,  i can do way better than that .
i don’t know how any of that is going to go against this .
this is not the first time i’ve been threatened .
oops .  you shouldn’t have done that .
isn’t that funny ?  and i thought you didn’t believe in magic .
i came to get you .  i’m worried about you .
who exactly are you ,  anyway ?
you’re dismissive enough about me when you’re sober .
find your way back yourself .
i’m sorry ,  i was an asshole ,  i was drunk .  i’m at a loss .
who are we working for ?
stop being paranoid .
i don’t know if i can do this ,  i don’t wanna go to jail .
stay in the car .
hey !  i wanna have a word with you .
don’t EVER talk to me like that again .
i just got my ass handed to me !
faith isn’t a luxury i have time for right now .
i’d like to express a sentiment to you about our relationship .
when i first met you ,  i thought you were kind of a  ...  dick .
oh my god ,  i did NOT see that coming .  that’s impossible !
that was actually  ...  pretty good .
i’m so sorry for kicking your ass ,  really .
some things are best left unexplained .
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britcision · 10 months
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I am so sleepy
I was gonna give you Waylon and Danny since I think that came second but I’m not checking
BUT THEN THIS CAME TO ME IN A VISION so here you go, have KON! 😈
Chapter 15 is sitting at 11 500 words rn so it’s soooo close I just got a scene or two to finish up (Bruce suffering Bruce suffering Bruce Suffering)
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I’ll Take The Highway part v
Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.
It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…
Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.
Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.
Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.
It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.
The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.
He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.
He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.
Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.
All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.
Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.
He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.
“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.
Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.
“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.
Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.
Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.
Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.
For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.
Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.
They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.
Trouble didn’t; barely.
Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.
Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus Pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?
Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.
It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.
Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.
Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.
The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.
“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.
The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.
“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”
Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.
“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”
Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.
“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.
Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…
“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.
Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.
“Phantom Express it is then.”
And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.
So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.
Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.
And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.
Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.
Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.
“So, where do you wanna go?”
As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.
About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.
Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.
It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.
And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.
Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.
(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)
The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.
Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.
Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.
Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.
“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.
Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.
Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.
Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.
Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.
“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.
The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.
Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.
With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.
“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.
Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.
“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.
“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.
Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon?
It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.
“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.
Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.
“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”
That sounded about right.
Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.
Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.
“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.
Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.
There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.
“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.
The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.
“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.
Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?
Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.
How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.
Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.
It didn’t take long.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.
The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.
His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”
The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.
“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.
A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.
Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?
Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.
Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.
(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)
In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.
Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.
He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.
“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.
It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.
“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.
That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.
Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.
“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.
“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.
About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.
“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.
Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?
“It’s nothing.”
Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.
“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.
Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.
“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.
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katrinapavela · 6 months
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QTNA: 10 Questions I Would Like Kerry Washington’s Memoir, Thicker Than Water to Answer
Kerry Washington’s memoir, Thicker Than Water, will be available to the masses on the 26th of September, and I have questions that need answers. Well, I would like to have answers.  I pre-ordered it in June when it was announced, and I’ll be receiving a second copy when I see her in Manchester in October (Kerry, you better not cancel this leg of the tour. I worry because we’re the only stop that still doesn’t have a confirmed special guest). Before a million reviewers start leaking and the full-court press is unleashed this week, I thought it would be fun to post some of my own questions about Ms. Washington that I hope are answered in Thicker.  To be clear, I read the same excerpt on Oprah.com as the rest of y’all. And I won’t be reading any advanced reviews until mine own eyes have completed all 320 pages of Kerry’s words. I am really looking forward to reading it, and hope to recommend it to my Black women-only reading group. 
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As an actress, I have liked Kerry Washington since I watched Save the Last Dance in the early 2000s. And in each subsequent film I’ve watched that featured her, I’ve felt like Tony Goldwyn (but not as intense): Oh hey, it’s that really great actress and she’s always giving something different. But I never explicitly sought after articles or interviews, preferring to casually enjoy her work instead. 
That changed with Scandal. My dedication to the show hedged on its compelling narrative themes. But it was the compelling relationship between Kerry’s Olivia Pope and Tony Goldwyn’s Fitzgerald Grant that created magic. It cast a spell that elicited from me reams of writing about Scandal between 2012-2018. In fact, the series changed the whole trajectory of Kerry Washington’s career (and my life, too ). It also brought significantly more eyes upon her. The first vehicle built around Kerry, Scandal gave her acting space to breathe, develop and shine. I also continued to watch the smattering of films she made during that era (Django Unchained, Peeples, Confirmation), and began reading interviews with her--both before and during Scandal. I began to notice the way in which the availability of information shifted, receded (or removed), and sometimes became opaque under a claim of ‘privacy’ whilst also offering the veneer of accessibility from late 2013 onward. Granted, I do not run any obsequious fan accounts about Kerry, so I know there will be some who try to rattle off any number of things I “should know” because they have inhaled every morsel of information and made its consumption and regurgitation their entire online personality. But I am also not a hater who consumes the actor's every move for the purpose of group chat gossip. I like knowing things about people I admire because I like to find points of connection, perspective, recognition…and differences. I admire Kerry Washington…or what she’s allowed me to see. The problem is, when I think about her, I think about a person who seems good and cares fiercely for her country, family, and other people. She’s well-regarded. She’s funny. She’s stylish. She has a great capacity for information. But. 
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She also seems secretive, and that’s different from being private. I feel like I know of her, about her. But who is she, really? That lack of clarity is partly by design, of course, due to her profession. Still, I hope Thicker Than Water answers the soul of that question: Who is Kerry Washington? 
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It is with that central question in mind that I pose the following questions. These are MY questions. I am not here to represent anyone’s fandom. I know, too, that I don’t have a ‘right’ to have any of these questions answered. I’m not delulu (as the kids say). I’m being as honest as I can with my own curiosities about Kerry, as both an actress and a human. 
These are my questions. I am not here to represent a fandom. Let’s get into the QTNA of it all.
Q1: What childhood scars still itch even into adulthood?
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In a recent interview, Kerry mentioned that her therapist has read her book. Samesies! When I finished the pre-copyedited draft of my first book, I started connecting some childhood dots to a few of my ongoing challenges. I asked my therapist to read it so that we could be on the same page in our sessions. It is for this reason that I wonder if Kerry’s reading back of her own writing was revelatory to her in ways she was not able to consciously unlock before. Are there things still there under the surface, the ghosts of which still tingle and itch sometimes no matter how much therapy she has had? Falling back into patterns is easy; undoing them takes so much self-awareness and intentionality. 
Secondly, I ask the question based on the excerpt from Thicker that was chosen to appear on Oprah.com. Beautifully conveyed with a stark honesty I had never seen from Kerry, the selection chosen is one that gives us a sliver into the dysfunctions of the Washington’s marriage. Ones that were quite literally disruptive to 7-year-old Kerry. Aristotle famously said, “Give me the child until [s]he is 7 and I will show you the [wo]man.” The theory of the first 7 years of a child’s life has been debated in Psychology. However, anecdotally, I can tell you that both my wife and I carry deeply impactful memories of our selves at age 7, the threads of which still linger. So, why is that memory offered as the amuse bouche to the drawing back of the curtains of Kerry Washington’s life which Thicker Than Water promises (or ‘her truth’ as Kerry calls it)? Does the excerpt set a foundation for the grown up Kerry we now see? For me, the excerpt made me wonder if young Kerry’s (confessed) determination to be the living embodiment of the pleasing, “good” thing that bonded her parents together was the start of a perfectionism that would be hard to shake. Control issues that would find her guarding a carefully curated image that avoids like the plague the possibility of being seen as ‘problematic’ for a stance, an opinion, a view? Or it could be that I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. That is entirely possible.  
Q2: Did you experience any body dysmorphia issues during your first pregnancy? Was your second pregnancy different?
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This is a difficult and very personal question. I know. It is based on two things: 1) the unusual language Kerry used to refer to her changing body during that time; and 2) the fact that she mentioned, prior to Scandal, she struggled with an eating disorder. 
During Kerry’s first pregnancy (2013-2014), I don’t recall her using the word ‘pregnant’. She would say things like how the ‘condition’, ‘orientation’, or ‘physicality’ of her body changed when discussing how she approached acting during that time. I don’t recall her talking about it in personable ways. It felt like if she didn’t have to acknowledge what our eyes could plainly see, she would not have. Kerry appeared much more comfortable with her second pregnancy (2017). Listen, I have never been pregnant. In fact, I am terrified of it, which is why I wonder what it must be like for someone who has struggled with an eating disorder (which can cause body dysmorphia issues). How did Kerry come to embrace such a purposeful but very disrupting change to her body?  I have been around a fair number of pregnant women, so I know it’s not all ‘miracle of life’ stuff. The typical pregnancy narratives out there from celebrities don’t typically discuss this unless we can relate it back to inequalities in maternal health care. Even if they do, I’m asking for Kerry Washington’s perspective. I could be entirely wrong, but I’d still like to know was the changing of her body hard for her. I’d love to know how she felt after her first child was born, and what motherhood feels like for her. 
A related thing about which I am curious: Did she have any fertility issues and struggle with getting pregnant? And why did she wait until after it was beyond obvious during her Saturday Night Live appearance in early November 2013 to officially confirm she was pregnant? What fear was the fear behind this late decision? 
Q3: What makes you sad, insecure, or sometimes need to retreat into yourself?
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Kerry seems like a high-energy, joyful, positive person. She’s commented that as an Aquarius, she loves all sorts of people. I can see that. As an introverted Cancerian, I appreciate high-energy people…in doses. Every talk show appearance, red carpet interview, and social media content are all carefully presenting a woman who is very together. I say this because sometimes Kerry speaks in therapy language even when she’s trying to be sincere about overcoming battles. Of course, the image one projects (me, too) is always only partially true—whatever the industry.  Kerry is a person and most of us do not have it all together, no matter how much we present it as such, or how much we sweep aside the less salubrious, more complicated parts of ourselves. It’s that stuff that I’m interested in. Where are her edges? Negativity may be ‘noise’ (as Kerry’s Twitter banner displays), but it also gives positivity its meaning. I also recall a saying that happy people are usually the most fucked up ones. Now, I’m not accusing Ms. `Washington of being uniquely fucked up, because we all are in some ways. The always ‘on’ facade is typically a way of hiding (just one of the tools) the things we don’t think we can show. Is she a trainwreck in the mornings and a bitch in the afternoon? Please, I just want to know something real…about Kerry, not just about her parents and her career. 
Q4: In what ways, are you like your character Olivia Pope? 
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On an episode of Unpacking the Toolbox podcast, Kerry’s co-stars/friends, Guillermo Diaz, and Katie Lowes, said that out of everyone in the cast, Kerry is the most like her character (Olivia Pope). Would Kerry say this is accurate or fair? If so, what characteristics does she have in common with Olivia? Please spare me surface-level, obfuscating comparisons such as ‘We look alike :)’ or ‘We’re both passionate about democracy!’ Somehow, I don’t think that’s what Katie and Guillermo meant. I don’t presume anything untoward. I also understand why actors in long-running shows are usually at pains to separate the actor from the character, especially when that character’s messy humanity is on display for everyone to judge. But, again, give me something of substance here. 
Q5: In what ways do you draw on your Jamaican heritage? How are you imparting that to your children along with their Nigerian Igbo heritage? And who are your father’s people?
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Kerry has been very vocal about her mother’s Jamaican heritage. She has been vocal about immigration, sharing that her maternal grandparents came to America via Ellis Island.  In the summer of 2023, she was in Jamaica to film a special about dance forms from around the world. As a Jamaican myself, I would like something more concrete about her Jamaican background. She often mentions her Jamaican heritage, but in what ways is it important to her? How does she call on that heritage as part of her identity? How is she (or not) imparting that sense of culture to her children alongside their Igbo heritage? Lastly, I’m less certain of her father’s origins (presumably in the American South). I’d like to know more about that. 
Q6: Why was Hollywood the calling? Did you feel like changing course? If so, when and what put you back on the path towards who you’ve become?
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This question is about Kerry’s early experiences in Hollywood. In an old interview (hopefully, I didn’t hallucinate this), she mentioned being told early on to lose 30 pounds and fix her teeth, at which she scoffed. Despite the contemporary irony juxtaposed against the past demand, where did she get the strength of determination and belief in herself to push past what those assholes could not see? As plucky as she seems, everyone has low moments when they are pushing for a dream. What’s one of hers from those early years?
In another interview (or the same?) Kerry mentioned giving herself a year to become a working actor in Hollywood. This is after her post-University travels to India to study Yoga. I want to know more about the jump from Yoga to Hollywood. What was that internal calling, or was it a casual, young adventurous thing she thought she would try? Did the move to Hollywood occur during a highly ambivalent part of her life? If so, how did that feel as a Black woman, since those women are often under pressure to take up a more guaranteed profession than the arts?
Q7: What did you find most challenging about working on Scandal—both as an actress and as a person? What nonsense did you and your castmates get up to behind the scenes? 
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Kerry has been very grateful for landing a show like Scandal and for the fine company of actors with whom she got to work. Great, but can she tell us the non-PR stuff? I’m not talking about back-biting—I don’t care. I’m always interested in the process for actors and all the changes they go through when working on a long-term project.  American TV shows have 16-24 episode commitments every year. That has got to dominate a person’s life! What are some specific ways it impacted Kerry’s life? Actors have talked about how unrelenting the TV schedule is, including Shonda’s reflections in her 2015 book about the incessant demand to ‘lay track’ (write) so that the train that is the TV show doesn’t run off course. I already know that Kerry has borrowed from Ellen Pompeo, the advice to approach being #1 on the call sheet of a TV show the way an athlete would approach her dedicated sport. The point here is that I’m not seeking more information on enduring the schedule. I’m interested in how she kept the motivation and rationale for her character over such a long period. What did she do when she had disagreements about things Olivia was written to do? Would she have done anything differently? What was the thing that Olivia did that she found hardest to justify? Who was that one guest star who gave her nothing when they acted together (alluded to in Unpacking the Toolbox, episode 107)?  And finally, can she stop playing diplomat and just say that Tony is the better kisser?  
Q8: IDTAMPL was weird. What was the fear behind that, and how do you now define ‘personal life’?
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For the uninitiated, or those with short-term memories, the acronym IDTAMPL stands for I Don’t Talk About My Personal Life. Kerry adopted this saying whenever she was interviewed after her marriage to Nnamdi Asomugha was announced on the 3rd of July 2013. Occurring on the brink of the holiday weekend, the news dropped like a bomb in the Scandal fandom. Even outside the fandom. Many were flummoxed, including me. On the 4th of July, I attended a celebration in London with a fellow American who is a big-time Philadelphia Eagles (Nnamdi’s former team) football fan, including the gossip surrounding the team.  As soon as she opened her door to me, she said, “Your girl married Nnamdi?!” She consumed more football than Scandal at the time. Suffice it to say, I have left out the accurate number of question marks and exclamations in her voice. Her face, too, was full of them. 
Listen, we used to be a proper country. Many celebrities, with and without talent, have lost the art of mystique, preferring instead to cultivate the marketing skill of capturing attention and selling it to us as actual talent. 
I am thankful for those celebrities who maintain the mystique of a bygone era. Intrigue me, but don’t shut the door completely. The latter is what it felt like Kerry did after it was announced that she was married. Prior to the announcement, I don’t recall the media being that interested in Kerry’s dating life. It was not a topic that came up. Nor did Kerry ever let on that she was dating, let alone that she had been involved with Asomugha for three years (according to Kerry’s timeline of their meeting in 2009 when she did the Broadway play, Race). I have no qualms with celebrities who don’t make their partners part of their public image, or the ones who wed outside the limelight (Margot Robbie, Chris Evans (recently)). What I don’t like is when they pretend that they didn’t volunteer the information in the first place. Kerry’s team announced the marriage, even giving PR-friendly People Online titbits from “a source close to the couple” about Kerry’s ‘regular’ looking wedding dress (I kid you not. The source called the unseen dress ’regular’). We even learned that the “secret wedding” (every publication used that phrase so it’s deliberate) took place in the potato-producing state of Hailey, Idaho in the last week of June. These things were volunteered. 
But once Kerry emerged back on red carpets and public events that summer, she trotted out a new PR line when asked follow-up questions about her wedding, husband, or newly married life: “I don’t talk about my personal life”.  After literal years of not mentioning a romantic life, when her very public engagement to David Moscow ended in 2007, it was Kerry who let the public know: 1) She was hiding a boyfriend (shoutout to Pusha T); and 2) Surprise! I’s married now (shoutout to Shug Avery)…but don’t ask me anything about it! Don’t even ask me for a picture with the two of us together to go with your marriage announcement headlines. That’s what photoshop is for. Figure it out!
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I’m being facetious, but, girl...
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BFFR. Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s raining. We didn’t ask, but she definitely told us. And when folks followed up on that telling, Kerry closed up tighter than a sphincter with a ‘do not enter sign. That whole era was awkward. Can we acknowledge that, at least?
Lest you think, “You’re being way harsh, Tai”, I’m not. What I sense is that there was some fear Kerry harboured behind revealing her coupling with Nnamdi. What was the source of the fear that led to the IDTAMPL shutdown? Was it because she did not want her personal narrative to be overshadowed by her relationship status? And what inspired her to begin relaxing that… a little? Like, she waited until her second child was born in 2017 to start allowing articles to describe her as “a mother of three”, revealing Nnamdi’s daughter from a previous relationship, which she had not acknowledged before. Was it simply time that allowed her to all but retire the IDTAMPL line? Or were there key turning points that led to slow revelations? And can we agree that the reluctance to talk about a ‘personal’ life is specifically related to her husband (mostly) and children (I support her keeping them off social media)? Words mean things. One’s parents are part of one’s personal life, but Kerry has no qualms about performing her relationship with them on social media. I mean, the excerpt she chose for us to read busts-open like a ripe papaya their whole past marital dysfunction, and her mother’s contemplating being unalive. Like…are such matters not not both personal and private? With all of that in mind, what has prompted this rethinking? How does Kerry now define ‘personal life’?
Q9: What is your most enduring memory from your time in India? Would you go back if you haven’t already?
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On more than one occasion, Kerry has referenced her time spent in India. Besides the fact that she chose to travel to the subcontinent after graduation from George Washington University, we don’t know that much about that period (and that she studied Yoga whilst there). Kerry graduated from GW in 1999 (?). I spent five months in the southern states of India in the first half of 2000. I’m not sure if her trip crossed over into the new millennium, but it’s kind of cool to think about us both being in that vast country at the same time. I would love to know what are some of Kerry’s outstanding memories? What did she love about that place? What does she not miss? Did she visit a favourite place, or discover a dish she continues to enjoy? Does she, like me, share Indian heritage as part of her Jamaican identity?
Looking back, did travelling abroad at such a formative age, shape her coming of age in any way? I would welcome any memories or anecdotes from that time in her life. 
Q: Beyond “mutual respect” for each other, why are you at your most playful around Tony Goldwyn?
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I cannot be sure, but it is likely that Kerry has come across online theories and conspiracies that are both outlandish and semi-reasonable based on visuals alone. Whenever fans (to be clear, I am ‘fans’) are treated to her interactions with Tony Goldwyn, it feels like a hit of sugar injected directly into our veins. Their power has a hold on us. 
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It is not simply fans seeing in Kerry and Tony a nostalgia for Olivia and Fitz. Both entities are a force unto themselves. Most don’t confuse one for the other, if they have a shred of media literacy. Even people who hated Olivia and Fitz as a couple can acknowledge that there is a je ne sais quoi between Kerry and Tony. Their chemistry has its own fans; it’s palpable.  I know that Kerry knows that the Kerry x Tony appearances are gold because she leverages them on social media. She’s leveraging it right now for her book tour. It’s no accident that the Washington, D.C. tour stop with Tony Goldwyn as the special guest was the first to quickly sell out dates were announced. People are coming to that tour stop for the cerise sur la gateau which is the Kerry x Tony bond. I’m not cynical enough (or blind enough) to believe that their interactions are simply good “PRs” for both their images (as some have alleged). No, there is an energy, an authenticity that crackles and fizzes between them, even when they are simply standing next to each other.
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Hell, it’s there when one of them simply talks about the absent other. Fair enough that chemistry works in mysterious ways that can’t be manufactured.  But when Kerry is in the vicinity of Tony Goldwyn, there is also Physics at play. There is inertia in their body language to familiarity and comfortability with each other in ways that speak to a shared intimacy.  I mean that in the sense of closeness and rapport. Kerry and Tony are clearly very close. Beyond the “mutual respect” they say they have for each other, there is something about who Kerry is when she is around Tony that is different than when she is around others. She doesn’t have that with her other Scandal co-stars with whom she has remained friends. Other than her passionate and on-point political advocacy, her time spent with Tony Goldwyn lends a cozy texture to her personality that is more easily felt than described. It’s like popping the bubble of perfectionism and letting out a giant exhale. Me, I exhale when they are together. Am I trippin, or is there something about Tony Goldwyn that effortlessly extracts this playfulness in her, and can she feel it, too?
Bonus Question (A la Inside The Actors Studio):  What is your favourite curse word? What sound do you love? What sound do you hate? What scares you? What makes you cry? What petty thing have you had it with? What did you finally embrace only after you were in your forties?
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Even if Bravo were to resurrect Inside The Actors Studio [LINK], Kerry Washington will never have the chance to be interviewed by James Lipton because he passed away in 2020. A venerable institution himself, Lipton’s sincere and earnestly pointed manner of asking questions gave actors the opportunity to embark on a journey of both self and art in the space of an hour, in front of a live audience of actors-in-training.  Through this show, the audience could learn more about their favourite actor, and all the ways in which the personal intersects with their art, and much more. My favourite part was always the quick-fire round near the end when Lipton would ask the small, quotidian questions that are the true stuff of life. You know, the anti-Hollywood shit. Though it’s a cheat, it is in that vein that the bonus questions above are designed.  A few are taken from James Lipton, and others added by me. 
Those are all of the questions…until I read Kerry’s tome. 
Perfect-seeming people are boring and untrustworthy. But is the perception entirely a fiction created by the celebrity or us? 
“…[She’s] clearly a beautiful, intelligent, multi-talented, quietly formidable woman with a Jesus-like heart. From what we can tell, she is highly respected among her peers. Well, that’s who we’ve made her out to be. We choose to see those things in her because that’s what’s on public offer. Because of that, it’s so easy to turn KW into some Magical Negress archetype imprisoned on a pedestal in our minds. We believe Kerry is clean. Kerry walks on water. Kerry makes the fishes and the loaves. As her fans… we mythologize her, and others like her, because we have this deep-seated human need to create heroes for ourselves. We need to believe that there are people less fallible than we are: that if we believe in their perfection, it might take us a little closer towards that ideal… Kerry doesn’t walk on water. She’s not perfect. The reason I know is because she’s flesh and bone and blood, just like you and me.” (Me, 2013)
It's true: the perception is a little but her, a little bit us (me). However, I can’t say that I’ve seen a lot of evidence of the proverbial ‘flesh and bone and blood’. That perception seems poised to change on the 26th of September with Thicker Than Water’s release. 
I was surprised (in a good way) to see Kerry reference this early ‘need’ she placed on herself to be ‘good’ as a point of connection for her parents, whose marriage was in trouble. I was also sad because I know what that means. I did that to myself at age 12, and it’s been hard to completely abandon. But the admission intrigued me, and I hope there is more of that kind of self-revelation in the book as the timeline approaches the Kerry we see today.  Above all else, my wish for Thicker Than Water, is this: to offer me insight and greater clarity about a woman whose public persona, for the last ten years, has been highly visible, yet persistently opaque.
I get it. To exist publicly as a Black woman in the 21st Century is to navigate a high-wire act. Perception is always on the mind, especially in Kerry’s industry. If you share too much, people have a problem; not enough, people have a problem. Nothing you share is impervious to being twisted into the most ungenerous or scandalous interpretation. We have watched Queen Mother, Beyonce, in the last decade become more deliberate about what she shares with the public. But even she feels like less of a question mark than Kerry Washington. Beyonce has, at least, given us glimpses into her personal life and thoughts via documentaries, BTS photos, and the intimacy of confession in her art—the parts that are beautiful, fucked up, or ambivalent. This is not me pitting two bad bitches against each other. It is me offering an example of another Black woman who has told us that she battles perfectionism, and who has found a way to let us in (or feel like it), through her art, whilst making her boundaries clear. 
Thicker Than Water will be a part of Kerry’s artistic self. It is a product of memory and polished fiction; narratives carefully organized and swaddled in beautiful prose (based on the excerpt) that promises to take the reader on a journey. As someone who recently published a book that is small in its number of pages, but big in its revelations of things unspoken and unshared, I know that writing is an intimate act of exploring one’s mind and interiority; of the past and its pertinence with the present. What your mouth cannot say, your fingers will. It is my most profound hope that Thicker Than Water allows me to feel a sense of connection with flesh and blood and bone Kerry Washington. And I hope for her the book accomplishes a giant exhale of whatever she wants to release into the world. Whether or not I will personally be satisfied by the book... stay tuned.
Q: What are your questions for Kerry?
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k0rek1yos · 2 years
Text
ーi'm sleeping with a ghoul
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Prompt: none
Pairing(s): Artemiy Artemievich "Che'nya" Pinker x reader
CW: idk like ghost sex but Cheshire cat dude, mirror sex, orgasm denial
Notes: gn!heartslabyul!reader, nsfw
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“Chen’ya, I know you’re in here.” You chuckled, running your fingers through the bushy, seemingly floating purple tail. "Did you have fun scaring the Heartslabyul kids again? You're gonna be kicked out one day, I swear."
"That I did!" He snickered, head popping up from nowhere to kiss your cheek. "And that wouldn't happen! 'Cause my adorable partner and my best friends'll sneak me back in!"
Rolling your eyes with a grin, you went back to applying the moisturizer that Rook had gifted you earlier in the week; Chen'ya seemed to like the scent of it, from the way he'd been so clingy during the week. "I dunno, I don't think I quite enjoy having a floating head for a boyfriend..."
"Well then..." his head faded away, his tail disappearing with it. "I'm no longer a floating head, do I meet your boyfriend qualifications now?"
He purred, dragging his nose along the line where your neck and shoulder meet. Closing the jar, you watched his movements in the mirror, observing how your skin seemed to shrink into itself on its own.
"Maybe. You gotta try harder, ghostboy." You tilted your head to give him better access to your neck.
You felt a hot, wet sensation drag across your neck; a cold contrast from the cold AC — or magical counterpart of — running in the room.
“Better?” He mumbled against your skin, nipping at your collar.
You hummed, staring at the mirror through your lashes. “It’s getting there.”
The knot of your robe had come undone, cold hands reaching under the soft red satin, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The feeling was akin to that of ice against your sensitive chest.
You sighed, relaxing against him as he kissed your neck. Your back arched naturally when he pinched particularly hard, robe falling from your shoulder.
"Can I?” He trailed his hand down your stomach, thumbing at your thighs, grinning playfully against your neck.
"Mhm..." you hummed in approval. "You may."
His hand left your legs for a moment, before returning, fingertips slick with saliva. You couldn't help the soft noise that left your lips as he inched in, sighing in delight.
The air felt cool, breezing across the room to soothe your feverish body while Chen'ya kept a steady pace; slow and teasing. He cooed in your ear every now and again, purring sweet nothings into your neck.
Your hands grabbed at the robe that pooled around your body, gripping it tightly as he hit a spot that had your head feeling hot and your body feeling light. Your skin felt like it was on fire and your mind went blank, the sweet, familiar laughter in your ear bringing you a sense of comfort.
“Enjoying it, are you?” He teased, slowly pulling his fingers out.
“Not anymore.” You complained sourly, looking back at yourself in the mirror.
Your legs were spread out, thighs resting on the smooth chestnut armrests of the intricately carved chair. The robe was tied loosely near your hips, silk draped over one shoulder, laying halfway open to expose practically everything underneath.
You felt something dull and wet press against you, before dipping inside you. You couldn’t help but watch yourself in the mirror, hyper aware of every incinerating touch, skin practically aching with anticipation, not knowing where he would be next.
Suddenly, you were snapped out of your daze, feeling how he filled you up just right, hitting the perfect spot every couple seconds. He leaned forward, chest pressing against yours, buried deep inside you. You could hear him snicker and mumble dirty whispers in your ear, teeth grazing your neck.
"Ah... Chen'ya..." you sighed, rolling your hips against his. "Please..."
"Please what? I can please you nearly any way you could ever want or need, so long as you can ask for it!" He detached himself from your neck.
"Just don't- ah- don't do the same thing as last ti- mmph..." you trailed off as he pressed his lips (?) to yours, dragging his tongue along your lower lip.
You felt a warmth at your collar and between your legs, spreading slowly. You couldn't think properly, only focused on the feeling, letting your thighs clench around him. Escaped noises were caught on his lips, and he seemed to savour the vibrations against his mouth.
A sudden sensitivity hit you, back arching away from the chair with a sweet whine. Chen'ya didn't even bat an eye, continuing his regular pace, strength deteriorating significantly. A purple tail began to peek through its invisible curtain, flickering in and out of visibility. It wasn't too far after, a thin, white liquid dripped down your chest.
After you'd come down from that buzz, you reached for the handkerchief on your vanity, wiping your chest with a glare at your floating head of a boyfriend. "I just took a shower."
"Aw I'm sorry, how about I make it up to you?" He lowered in front of you, floating hands pulling your thighs apart.
You deadpanned at him. "Artem-"
"Chen'ya?" Your door burst open, Trey peeking in. "Oh! Er- right, I'll talk to you later!"
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awigglycultist · 4 months
Text
VHS Christmas Carols first watch thoughts!
Omg the opening number is such a bop
JAMES DOING THE GRIDDY OMG
I loved the "it's time... Pennies" lines
I love Janaya
Jim and Della are great
The songs are SO 80s sounding, it's so great, especially my hair/my watch, and they've all been great so far
OOOHH THE MOMENT WHERE SHE RUSHED DOWN THE STREET AND SELLS HER HAIR IS SO GOOD ALSO SCROOGE?
This song is WILD
"you're more beautiful than ever" AHHH AWW
DONT CRY NO
Omg Jim not wanting to say he gave the watch away yet and just wanting to be close to Della
AUGH
"because if just a thought can count why not just tell them how it was thought about" AHSHDKSKS
OMG JIM PUTTING THE WATCH CHAIN AROUND HER NECK LIKE A NECKLACE AND DELLA PUTTING A A COMB INTO HIS HAIR AHH
Omg Joey's, Lauren's and Brian's voices/accents in this
BRIAN MOUTHING "WHAT THE" AJSJDBSOS
Lauren's face when the match girls tries to get her to buy a match lmao
Btw the lighting in this show is beautiful
Poor little match girl just someone buy a match!
Scrooge again??
Oh boy here come the magi again
Matchstick Magic is so good
Oh boy the grandma this is where things start getting sad
Yup she's dead now
Oh Clark talking about turning a blind eye to ppl oh boy oh jeez
OMG WAIT THIS SONG TRANSITIONING TO HOW THE NEXT STORY IS ABOUT SCROOGE AND HOW HE LEARNS THAT LESSON
Omg Scrooge blowing the candle out
IT'S TIME
"and he really hates YOU" scared me jdjdjd
Love how they're like actually cowering in fear of him
I enjoying AJ's take of Scrooge and Brian's take of Fred
Bob giving a wave during "here's my man Bob Cratchit"
Scrooge standing on the set above Bob is a great little detail to make him scarier
Oh the way aj sings "theres something I need to sayyyy! Bah humbug! BAH HUMBUG!" scratches my brain
"Scrooge gives a shriek" "AH" JASKAKSISN
I love hurt how confused and scared looking Scrooge is
Ugh marelt forcing Scrooge to sit back down and turn is SO GOOD
AJ'S REACTION TO THE 3 GHOSTS
The ghosts wrapping him in chain omg omg
Oh woah new part to this interlude song
Jaime's voice here omg
Scrooge doing the jump rope too sjdbdb
The slow mo dancing shdhdb
Love Curt's young Scrooge he's such a nerd (I know in about to hate him)
Wait the reverse, pause and fast forward symbols each lighting up depending on if they're in the past, present or future
Ugh That Scrooge is so good
Omg the way Scrooge looks so sad when looking at Belle and then him getting up into young Scrooge's face when yelling at him
Omg the way he gets so quite on "you don't know what you've lost"
I know he's jdut on the floor bc he's in bed but at first it just looks likes he's contemplating life sjfbfjd
XMAS NOW OUR BOY
"maybe you're a greedy dick" "that one" djdjdn
Present PUSHING Scrooge and then making him dance!!
Go off Scrooge! Dance!!
Scrooge and Present dancing together is so fun!!
Plz the little dance in the interlude after Christmas Electricity ndndjdnd
Scrooge copying Present's dance lol
NOT THE HAND HELD MICS LIKE IT'S KARAOKE IT'S REMINDING ME THE ORGINAL AVHSCC DURING 2020
The way Curt shrugs after "Peter!"
THE WAY TIM SEEMS JUST LIMP PRETTY MUCH WITH THE WAY BOB AND THE KIDS ARE CARRYING HIM AROUND
Brian using the care bear as a mic lol
The way James says "harassed" and AJ says "nooo spirit" and James says "BAH HUMBUG" scratches my brain so much!!
OMG BRIAN ACTUALLY HAS BUTTON UP INSTEAD OF JUST THE TINY TIM RACECAR SHIRT
JIM AND DELLA ARE THE ONE IN DEBT OF SCROOGE
I love just how happy they are, they're HYPED
The way AJ says "tenderness" also scratches the brain
AUGH BOB HOLDING THE CAREBEAR THIS PART ALWAYS SAD BUT OUCH
THE WAY SCROOGE GOES UP EVERYONE TRYING TO SAY HE'S CHANGED!!!
Ugh the DESPERATENESS AJ protays!
GET HIS ASS DRAG HIM DOWN INTO THE GRAVE
THE MATCH GIRL THE MATCH GIRL OH MY GODDDDDDD AND HIS LITTLE DANCE WITH HER AND HE'S BUYING A MATCH OMG OH OH THIS IS GETTING TO ME
"SO HAPPY TO HAVE MET YOU" I love how intense Scrooge is
OMG JIM AND DELLA ARE BEIGN FORGIVEN OF THEIR DEBT
THE WATCH HOLY FUCK
SJDJDJDBAJ the glasses dropping onto the ground and AJ trying to find them
GOD THAT WAS SO GOOD!!!!!!!
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alexanderlightweight · 11 months
Note
As a kid I read this really creepy fantasy book that had a subplot of traitors to the citadel would disappear and people were told 'they repented their ways and now serve the greater good of the citadel'. Later on you find out they were 'serving' in death after being sacrificed to power the citadel's magic barrier. It was super creepy at the time but now makes me wonder about Alec adapting old traditions and sacrificing circle members to the Angelic core to rebuild NY's protections.
a;kjrfkaerfb this turned into a lot of malec but Alec has plans okay! thank you for this prompt, i'm awake enough that I can tell you how much fun I had figuring out where to go with this. this was, hahaha i love stuff like this. i hope you enjoy!
lumine
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Alec stares at the warlock, transfixed by the sight of his golden eyes and mesmerized by the ripples of powerful magic flickering just under his skin. Not a hair is out of place, but bodies lay dead at his feet, and it is so very different from Alec's own form, what with his blood-slick hands and clothes that are more sanguine than leather.
"Well now, you’re one I certainly don't know." The warlock practically purrs, and Alec tries not to pay too much attention to the soft lines of kohl that simply add to the other man's appeal.
"Alec," he murmurs and for all that he’s just killed half a dozen men, his own name stumbles from his mouth as though his tongue is numb and unwieldy.
"I'm Magnus.” So, saying, Magnus gives a disdainful look to the body at their feet and with a snap of his fingers, they’re lit with blue flames. An unruly spark springs up and a neatly laced and polished boot snuffs it out, "now then. I'm sure I have someone I can call to finish cleanup duty, care to join me for a celebratory drink? After all, it seems we both had a successful hunt. “
Alec eyes him warily, heartbeat tripping as Magnus unknowingly blows on an ember Alec thought long extinguished.
"A drink sounds fun." Comes blurting out of his mouth and he’s grateful for the dark and the way it hides the flush he can feel burning hotly on his cheeks and the back of his neck.
"May I?" Magnus steps forward, fingers lit with blue though he pauses before actually touching Alec's elbow. Alec stares, unsure of the last time someone actually asked for permission before touching him. Wondering when the last time someone touched him in a way that he didn’t need to defend against was. "Unless you prefer l'oduer du sang." Magnus teased and his golden eyes are gentle in a way that has never been directed at Alec before.
Alec swallows harshly and shakes his head, earning himself a wry smirk and then he is being engulfed, burned without pain and when it's over he feels scrubbed clean and refreshed. He rubs his fingers over his jaw and startles, surprised to find thick stubble instead of dried blood.
Suddenly, he can’t remember the last time he stopped to look in a mirror or take care of himself and while he doesn’t mind the beard, the proof of his distraction is troubling.
"Thank you." He manages to say, a bit late but he can’t help how dazed the display of Magnus and his magic makes him.
"Oh I assure you, I benefit far more than you.”
He’s given a deliberate once over that should leave him bristling but instead a hoarse chuckle escapes his throat. Magnus holds up his hand and with an elegant dance of his fingers, the door to the clubs is open and he gestures for Alec to go first.
And he does.
Alec turns his back to Magnus, his weapon glamoured and his stance relaxed and for the first time in a long time, the urge to kill wanes just a bit.
-
Alec wakes with his heart thrumming in his chest. He’s alert, mind awake before his eyes open and he keeps his breath low and even. Quickly, he tries to categorize where he is and how he’d been captured, taking note of how he is bare, naked except for a sheet around his waist and-
Alec freezes.
There is something, no someone solid and warm behind him. Equally naked from the feel and they have an arm curled tightly around Alec’s waist, hot and heavy and tightening around him.
“If you’re going to panic, do it without reaching for your weapons,” rasps a newly familiar voice.
Magnus, his mind supplies and he let himself go loose, relaxing into the touch with relief. If Magnus is surprised, he doesn’t say anything, just gives a pleased hum behind him. Lips press against his shoulder and he shudders when teeth nipped at his skin, worrying at a mark he dimly remembers Magnus leaving the night before.
“What time is it?”
“Do you have somewhere to be?”
Alec racks his mind for any reason, anything that desperately needs his attention and finds that he could think of nothing.
“Not at all.”
He can feel the curve of Magnus’ lips as he smiles against Alec’s neck and he shivers at how good it feels, to be the cause of someone’s joy.
Magnus blinks, taking in Alexander as he is now. The night before he took to bed a gorgeous, but rough-hewn shadowhunter while they were both still high from the thrill of a successful hunt. Magnus’ own thighs are raw from Alexander’s stubble, the way his shadowhunter had only wanted to worship Magnus’ cock with his mouth and the way he’d nuzzled Magnus’ skin when he needed to catch his breath.
He looks softer now, sweeter in the dawn with his luminous hazel eyes catching the golden sunlight. Alexander seems enchanted and he reaches out, fingers brushing over Magnus’ jaw with an aching tenderness that belies the brutality Magnus knows he’s capable of.
“It’s only dawn—” Magnus reminds him, “good shadowhunters are still sleeping.”
“Maybe I’m not a very good shadowhunter,” he’s told in return, a teasing hint to Alexander’s voice but there’s something hesitant and shy there.
“Oh? I rather disagree. I think you were very good for me last night.”
Alexander hesitates, something soft and pleased in his manner and then he shrugs. “I was supposed to bring the bodies back to the Institute, not dispose of them like they were.”
Magnus chuckles and croons, letting his fingers rest possessively over the imprint of his hand on Alexander’s hip.
“But then we wouldn’t have had time to have drinks,” Magnus reminds him. “Surely you’re not saying you’d rather have gone back then come home with me.”
“No!” Alexander says, quickly like he’s truly worried that Magnus thinks he’d rather haul bodies than be fucked unconscious. “No, I just—” he shrugs, “I’ll need to patrol again soon. My timeline is off now.”
“Such tyrants, the Lightwood must be.” Magnus clucks his tongue and rolls so that Alexander is on top of him, all delicious weight and bruises and runes begging for Magnus’ mouth. “However, they can’t scold you if they can’t find you.”
And Magnus kisses his shadowhunter, wanting to stake a claim, because this won’t be the last time he has him.
Magnus won’t settle for anything else.
— Alec sighs as he finally, finally leaves Magnus’ lair and he settles for a moment against the brick wall of the alley. He’s exhausted in a way he’d never felt before and just knows he’s going to crave. Magnus both satiated a need he didn’t know he had and awoke something in him, something Alec doesn’t have the time for.
Something Alec won’t be able to ignore.
However he has more pressing matters and it takes all afternoon and the better part of the evening before Ale finally manages to draw out the two Circle members who evaded him the night before.
He doesn’t kill them this time, he usually does but he’s running low on time and resources and it looks like he’s going to have to share with Magnus now as well.
The tunnels he takes open for his touch and his grace-imbued stele alone. The wall slides open, an opening forming and Alec drags in the two bodies and strips them, taking away any inorganic material to get rid of.
Then, he very carefully opens the hatch to the core and drops each, still breathing body into it.
“I’ll have more soon—” Alec promises the core and, in a display that the clave would shriek with terror if they ever saw, lets his fingers reach out and cup a portion of light. It purrs, nearly shuddering against him and he can feel it’s ravenous, gnawing hunger. “Soon,” he says again, pulling his fingers free and finally letting himself relax.
Alec ignores the pile of smoldering clothes and the weapons left on the ground, he’ll deal with them later, after he’s rested.
It’s with a delicious, aching limp that Alec makes it to his room and he enters the bathroom, stripping so he can stare at himself in the mirror.
Alec doesn’t recognize himself, or his own body and he showers and shaves before he tries again.
It’s easier this time, to recognize himself, but it’s still odd to see the marks on his body and know they were put there in pleasured fervor, and not from an attack or practice.
“Magnus—” he murmurs and he presses down on a bitemark, the scab reopened and bleeding sluggishly from the shower.
Perhaps, he has something new to look forward to.
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