#ripping out mt hair I just want to be normal

[artificialqueens]

Me and You Together, 6/10 (Taywhora) - Ortega

fic summary: The cardinal rule of having flatmates is that you Do Not Catch Feelings For Your Flatmates, because everything inevitably goes to shit and gets made horrifically awkward. A’whora and Tayce both know this, but being in first year of uni and making good decisions have never really gone hand in hand.

a/n: won't say much but i will say that i love tits and cats but i love reblogs, screaming in the tags and asks a whole lot more babes. if u like this i would love any of the former, but mostly the latter xo hope u all enjoy this chapter!!! cw for smut fam (hwfg!!)

last chapter: February- Valentine's Day saw Tayce and A'whora's cover blown as they were interrupted by Ellie and Lawrence.

this chapter: April- a lot has happened since last month, and at Lawrence’s friend’s flat party A’whora struggles with her feelings for Tayce. The trouble is, neither of them have ever been any good at sticking to the rules.

***

In front of the wooden tenement door with the music and voices muffled behind it, A’whora watches as Ellie frowns, tugs at the hemline of her green snakeskin-patterned skirt.

“Is this too short?”

“ No , Ellie,” A’whora, Tayce and Tia all groan at her in sync before giggling at the absurdity of their unison. She catches Tayce’s eye for a second before smiling bashfully and looking at the floor, electing to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. She wordlessly orders her heart to calm down, to stop doing backflips the way it’s doing right now. A reaction like that is much too selfish, against everything they said they would be going forward.

“Ain’t short enough,” Bimini shrugs blithely, hitching the top of their own hotpants up as if to make a point but only succeeding to rip their fishnets on one of their chunky rings. “Shit.”

“Were they new?” Tayce asks.

“Yeah. A whole two quid out of Primark.”

“How is your bank account ever gonny recover?” Lawrence dramatises, clutching at her heart as Bimini sticks their tongue out at her good-humouredly. As the others snort at Lawrence’s joke, Lawrence herself turns to Ellie and pats her arm. “It’s not too anything, you look great.”

A’whora doesn’t miss the way Ellie flushes red as she thanks her friend, and in spite of herself she finds herself trying to hide a smile. If she can’t be happy, at least one of her friends looks like she’s on her way to figuring her own feelings out soon enough. A’whora just hopes it’ll all have a better ending than her own love story seems to have had.

“Have we definitely got the right flat, Lawrence? You’ve not just brought us to some randomer’s party by accident?” Tia agonises as she rubs her arms, self-conscious and cold. April’s blessed them with some sporadic day-long heatwaves but tonight hasn’t been as kind; the walk over to Lawrence’s friend’s flat party had been chilly, and they’d all needed their jackets.

A’whora supposes the temperature suits her situation.

Embittered by the cold and her self-pity, A’whora rolls her eyes. “It’s not 2010 anymore, Tia, nobody says randomers .”

“Well I do,” Tia shrugs lightly, and before A’whora can begin to bicker with her Lawrence huffs a sigh of exasperation.

“It’s the right flat, awrite?! I have been here before, you know. She’ll answer any second. Could yous all just stop the arguing and pretend to be normal human beings for once in your lives?”

A’whora raises her eyebrows pointedly. “A feat that’s going to be harder for some of us than others…”

As both Lawrence and Tia whip their heads round to scold her, the front door opens to reveal a tall girl with full lips, striking hazel eyes and a thick head of candyfloss pink hair that tumbles down over her shoulders and the straps of the tight black bodysuit she’s wearing. She’s gorgeous, and A’whora is immediately intimidated. Her eyes dart to Tayce in a small panic, trying to gauge her reaction, but she’s distracted by Lawrence’s “WAHEY!” and the girl’s excited squeal as they pull each other into a hug.

“Lads, this is Rosé, Rosé, lads!” Lawrence gestures at her flatmates flippantly, and A’whora waves a hand in an awkward hello much like the rest of the others. Lawrence turns her attention back to her friend with an apologetic grimace. “Hope you don’t mind me bringing them, babes. I know you said bring people if they’re cool, but I don’t actually know any cool people, so…”

A’whora holds back a snort as she watches Tayce’s face screw up in involuntary offence. Rosé, for her part, just laughs and ushers them all in warmly.

“Don’t be silly, of course it’s fine! Come in, baby, let’s get you and your friends sat down and you can introduce me properly, m’kay?”

Once they’ve hung up their jackets Rosé leads the six of them through a crowded hallway, forgoes the thump of the bass and the packed space of bodies all crammed together in the kitchen and instead chooses a quieter room. The multiple sofas, stained coffee table and mismatched chairs suggest it’s a living room of sorts. There’s already people on the couches but Rosé simply bats them away as if they’re flies, irritation on her face.

“Move, my friends are sitting here,” she says simply, before the others grunt and slink off like foxes, tails between their legs. Rosé pats the now-empty seats, pulling a face. “Sorry about them. They’re just girls we hung out with last year before we realised what they were actually like. Freshers friendships, y’know? Nobody really wants them to be here, but Jan insisted we had to invite them so things weren’t awkward.”

“Ever the diplomat, oor Janette,” Lawrence smiles with understanding, throwing herself down beside her friend comfortably. Ellie quickly sits beside her on the other spare space, prompting A’whora to take the other sofa that’s left.

(To her surprise, Tayce sits beside her. Not close, though. A’whora doesn’t know what she expected.)

It leaves Tia and Bimini to take the other smaller couch, and as they sit Rosé stays true to her word and introduces herself to everyone, making an effort to learn their names and appearing genuinely pleased to meet them all (although that could just be a result of the bottle she’s drinking from). When she gets to Ellie her face grows scheming, and A’whora doesn’t miss the way she digs Lawrence in the ribs.

“So you’re Ellie! I’ve heard so much about you from Lawrence,” Rosé purrs, earning a glare from her friend and a laugh from Ellie.

“Fuck’s sake, I bet you have. All horror stories, I’m sure.”

“Oh no, quite the opposite,” Rosé smiles smugly, then flinches suddenly with a hiss. It doesn’t take Poirot to figure out that Lawrence is the cause.

“SO, Rosé! Where the fuck is your girlfriend anyway? Don’t tell me she’s left you,” Lawrence says, too-quickly and too-loudly.

“Shut up. Last time I saw her she was in the kitchen talking to one of her graduate friends,” Rosé pouts faux-dejectedly. “Think it’s a girl who studied fashion design so they were in the same faculty and knew each other for a bit.”

A’whora perks up. “Oh, we’d get on then, I think. I’m studying fashion design too, and Ellie does costume.”

“I’ll get Jan to introduce you!” Rosé smiles enthusiastically, before continuing with the conversation. “Plus I totally didn’t realise she was flatmates with Nina, who was in the MT society with us last year! Small world, huh?”

“Oh my God! You guys did MT?” Tia squeals excitedly. A’whora presses her lips together to stop herself from saying anything; trust Tia to be completely unable to play things cool. “I’m in it this year! How come we haven’t met before?”

Rosé giggles, covers her mouth with her hand. “We didn’t audition this year. Not to be rude, but we wanted to give everyone else a fighting chance, you know? We’ve got a slot in the Jazz Bar with our friend every Tuesday now instead.”

Tia’s face drops like she’s been slapped, and A’whora can’t help the way her eyebrows fly up her forehead. As she looks to Tayce, though, she’s disheartened. Usually Tayce would chime in with a little whoop in response to the shady comment, throw herself right into the conversation, be the complete life and soul of the party. Instead she’s muted, quiet, practically a wallflower in comparison. A’whora knows this isn’t like her. The guilt eats her up as she knows it’s somehow her fault, but still she can’t work out exactly why.

“Kandace!” Rosé suddenly yells out into the hall, startling A’whora somewhat. “Where’s my girlfriend, mama?”

Just then a girl enters the room, her dark hair in thick braids which she flips over her shoulder dramatically. “Well damn, bitch, I never took her! Would know better than to do so, you would come at me with a big...pizza cutter or some shit. She prolly in the kitchen drinking all the punch.”

“There’s punch?” Ellie pipes up, Tia’s wide eyes and anticipative smile matching her excitement.

“Damn right there’s punch, what sort of party d’you think this is? Amateurs. C’mon, I’ll show you both. You can introduce yourselves on the way,” the girl shrugs with the efficient energy of an infant teacher.

“Oh, I like you already,” Ellie smiles as she springs up from the sofa, and A’whora doesn’t miss the crestfallen look that takes over Lawrence’s face in response to Ellie's departure.

“Rosé, if I find Jan I’ll send her through,” the girl yells from over her shoulder, as the three of them leave the room. Rosé immediately turns to Lawrence as Ellie leaves, whispers something like ‘ so when are you gonna tell her?’ before she’s hastily shushed by her friend.

A’whora always has to remind herself she’s not meant to know about Lawrence’s crush on Ellie. She only knows because Tayce told her. Tayce doesn’t really tell her things these days, not in the same way she used to. Their chats used to be deep and meaningful, shared over a glass of wine in a dimly-lit bar or in bed pressed close together and wrapped around each other like vines. Now it’s flippant inquiries into how each others’ day was that neither of them care about the answer to, the question only serving as a box-ticking exercise to maintain the illusion of friendship.

That’s what they said they’d be. So why does this friendship feel so different to the one they had before?

Well. A’whora knows why.

She’d thought this situation would be perfect- Lawrence had been invited to Rosé’s pre-exam-season flat party, and of course had in turn invited the whole flat too- and A’whora had assumed that it would be the perfect opportunity to get everything back on track with Tayce, a little bit of alcohol giving them the gentle nudge in the right direction that they needed to mend whatever had snapped between them. But as Tayce sips one of the cans of cider she’s brought with her, she only smiles at Rosé politely and laughs half-heartedly at Lawrence’s jokes.

It’s been weeks since that day in March and A’whora’s still trying to figure out what exactly happened. It’s strange for something to be over before it ever really had a chance to begin.

Her thoughts are ruptured by the arrival of two more people: a boy with black hair, an earring and a black denim jacket and a girl with tumbling straight blonde hair and warm brown eyes. She’s got a pink sash that’s squint and falling off her shoulder, and a huge pink birthday badge pinned to her purple dress. When she walks in, Rosé’s whole face lights up.

A’whora tries to remember if Tayce’s face ever did that when she came into a room.

“There’s my baby!” Rosé beams, holds out her arms for a hug. The girl instead elects to tumble down onto her lap, and the two of them giggle like Care Bears.

Fleetingly, A’whora hates them.

“Oh, fuck me, right?” the boy fakes offence, before Rosé rolls her eyes and pats the space beside her where Lawrence has scooted up.

“You know damn well I was referring to you,” she addresses him, before turning to her girlfriend once more. “Jan, Mik, these are Lawrence’s flatmates!”

“Oh my God, adorbs! Lil’ fresher babies,” the boy says, with a vocal fry to rival that of a Valley girl. A’whora knows he doesn’t mean to be patronising, but her back’s put up all the same.

She’s probably just in a bad mood over Tayce.

“I hope it’s okay I brought them,” Lawrence says, apologising for their very presence for the second time that evening.

“Hey, the more people here to get drunk and forget about the overwhelming stress of deadline season, the better,” the girl shrugs cheerfully, then waves to nobody in particular. “Nice to meet you all! I’m Jan, that’s Mik. Can I learn names? Pronouns if you want to as well?”

Lawrence slaps her thigh decisively. “Crackin’ idea, I’ll start. I’m Lawrence and my pronouns are she/her, or fat/bastard.”

The room is filled with hysterical laughter that immediately breaks any ice that had been present between the freshers and the second year students. As they all introduce themselves politely, A’whora doesn’t fail to notice the way Mik’s eyes light up when Bimini introduces themself.

“Hey, do you know if they’re single?” Mik asks Lawrence, tipsy and sloppy and in a whisper that isn’t really a whisper. A’whora can’t help but laugh as she watches Bimini blush from their position on the sofa and smile over at Mik, flattered.

“Sorry to disappoint, babes, but I’m taken.”

It’s with Bimini’s words that Lawrence gives a yell of surprise and A’whora’s jaw drops open in shock. She can’t help the way she immediately looks wide-eyed at Tayce, and her heart jumps a hurdle when she sees her looking in her direction with much the same expression. Tayce’s shock at the secret Bimini’s kept from them prompts her to lurch forward on the sofa and give a cry of surprise.

“Ex-squeeze me, Bimini Bon Boulash?! Since bloody when ?!”

Bimini shrugs, clearly bashful. “Made things official with Asttina late on last month. Ain’t a big deal.”

“And when were you going to tell us this exactly? Were you gonna leave it in your last will and testament or something?!” A’whora cries, heart jarring at the laugh her words earn from Tayce.

Bimini stretches in their own catlike way, unbothered and laid back to an almost horizontal extent. “Well, you never asked.”

“What the hell?! This is big. C’mon Rory,” Tayce suddenly turns to A’whora and clutches at her hand frantically, and in doing so sends a thousand sparks flying between them. As A’whora’s pulse leaps, Tayce does the same off the sofa. “We need to go find the others. You ain’t getting away with just the three of us on this interrogation squad, Mx Bimini!”

“Alright, Line of effin’ Duty,” Bimini chuckles good-naturedly, and A’whora allows Tayce to drag her up off the sofa and through to the hall.

Tayce is giggling as she’s weaving them both through the crowd, and for a moment it’s like nothing has ever changed between them. A’whora’s not been keeping track of how many cans Tayce has had so far but she herself has only had three (two at pres, one here so far), so she’s not attributing that to the sudden personality transplant. She’s trying not to overthink it too much but this is the most authentic interaction she’s had with Tayce for a while, and it’s silly, but it’s hard to believe it’s not too good to be true.

For a moment, she’s almost glad Bimini didn’t tell them about Asttina if it meant she and Tayce could bond like this.

“Can you bloody believe it?!” Tayce squeaks at her as they reach the kitchen and, in turn, the punch bowl. Tayce wrenches two red cups from the stack beside it and fills them up with the ambiguous orange liquid that’s inside, pouring it sloppily and messily from the ladle. “I mean they’re meant to be our bloody friend! And then they don’t even tell us about the breaking news in their own love life! What goes on!”

“To be fair…” A’whora begins without thinking, then snaps her mouth closed as her heart shudders in her chest. She’d been about to say we kept us a secret from them too but she can’t bring that up now, send them crashing back down to earth and into the broken, uncomfortable bed they’ve somehow made. So she smiles tightly at Tayce who’s looking at her expectantly, takes the cup she’s holding out to her as she finishes her sentence. “...Bim’s always been a pretty private person.”

Tayce shrugs and holds the cup to her lips before she raises her eyebrows, takes it away and holds it out in the middle between them. “Cheers, slag.”

Silly and overeager, A’whora crashes their cups together then takes a too-big swig. The punch fills her mouth like poison and she feels her eyes grow wide as she swallows and then gags, Tayce doubling over laughing at her reaction.

“What the fuck is in that?!” she cries with horror, looking at the cup with incredulity as Tayce continues to laugh at her expense.

“It’s called punch for a reason, girl! It ain’t some fruity dilutey Slug and Lettuce pornstar martini tree we’re talking about here!”

“Punch is right. Feel like I’ve been punched in the fucking stomach,” A’whora screws her face up. Tayce’s face lights up and her hand rests on A’whora’s arm as she launches into a story excitedly.

“Oh my God. D’you remember that time we made punch back near freshers week and Lawrence added that thing to it...fuck, what was it called?! She kept calling it ‘wreck the hoose juice’.”

“Buckfast!” A’whora remembers with glee, trying not to grow too animated because if she moves she might scare Tayce away like she’s some sort of rare bird. This is the closest she’s been to Tayce in every sense for quite a while, and the moment is so magical that she’s determined not to let it slip away.

“That was it! And then the next day we were all so ill we were like...convinced we’d been spiked! But it was just that bloody Buckfast!”

As the pair of them giggle, A’whora starts laughing harder as she remembers what Tayce had said.

“Sorry, but hearing the words ‘wreck the hoose juice’ in a Welsh accent is probably the funniest thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

Tayce removes her hand from her arm only to slap her on it. “Oh, because the same thing in a Worksop accent is so much better!”

“We should get Ellie to say it. She's Scottish, it'll sound the same as when Lawrence says it,” A’whora says, then scans her gaze around the room and narrows her eyes. “Where the hell is she, anyway? We still need to tell her and Tia about Bim.”

The roar of a countdown from ten down to one on the other side of the kitchen prompts both her and Tayce’s gazes to wrench in its direction, only for their eyes to fall on Tia glugging a horrific-looking brown concoction out of a pint glass and Ellie yelling descending numbers at her, along with Rosé’s flatmate they’d disappeared with and a crowd of strangers.

“Of course,” Tayce deadpans, earning a snort from A’whora. Just then, A'whora remembers some chat Ellie had told her while they were getting ready, and she turns to tell Tayce without thinking. It's just natural to tell Tayce these sorts of things by now, and she's missed doing so.

“You know Ellie told me earlier she’s gonna like...see what happens with Lawrence tonight?” A’whora relays to Tayce eagerly, before she forgets that Tayce had sworn her to secrecy about the whole thing and her mouth snaps shut. It’s too late though, because Tayce is fixing her with a single raised eyebrow and a smirk which shouldn’t make A’whora’s stomach flip over like it does.

Friends, friends, friends.

“God, wonder how come Ellie’s suddenly over Tia and open to Lawrence?” she teases her, and A’whora groans apologetically.

“Look, I know you said not to tell anyone but it was the day they had that row in the flat,” she explains, belatedly and awkwardly realising that it had been the same day that she and Tayce had had that conversation and everything had changed between them. A’whora tries to shake the feeling of regret as she carries on. “Ellie was saying how Lawrence didn’t care about her and all that and it...well, it just came out. I had to shut her up somehow.”

Tayce shakes her head and laughs, toeing the line between long-suffering and affectionate. When she takes A’whora’s hand and squeezes it the line is crossed, and a thousand fireworks go off in her bloodstream. Tayce's eyes are soft as she looks at her and it only makes A’whora’s heart hurt.

“My fault, really. Should’ve known you can’t keep a secret to save yourself.”

“Kept us a secret for long enough,” A’whora says before she can stop herself. She feels like slapping a hand over her mouth, a flimsy gesture illustrating her mistake, and from the way Tayce lets go of her hand and looks to the floor it seems she regrets it just as much as A’whora does.

Fuck.

When Tayce snaps her head back up there’s a smile on her face that A’whora knows is fake, and she sets her cup down on the counter as she looks back over at Ellie and Tia. “Right! You wait here and guard the punch. I’ll drag those two hounds over and we can give them the goss.”

A’whora nods as she takes her turn to look to the floor, and suddenly Tayce is off in the direction of their other flatmates and all she can do is sit and stew in her embarrassment and regret at having said the wrong thing yet-a-fucking-gain.

Ellie has told A’whora countless times to just talk to her! and that if you just sit and chat things through everything will be fixed! but it’s been things A’whora’s said that’s somehow got them into this mess, even though she still doesn’t really know what specifically it was that made Tayce make the decision to stop it all, to stop falling asleep together and waking up together and going on dates (because they were dates, and that’s the hill A’whora will die on) and talking to each other like they’d known each other for eight years and not eight months.

When she thinks about the ways she misses Tayce, the sex isn’t even the first thing that comes to mind. That’s how she knows she was in deep. Well, still is. But A’whora would be lying if she said she didn’t still think about Tayce when her hands are between her thighs, has to stop the memories that flood her head when she's in the shower, moans just that little bit too loudly when she uses her vibrator in the pathetic hope that Tayce will hear her through the wall.

She supposes there’s a ridiculous part of her that misses the intimacy and the closeness most of all.

“Aurora!”

A’whora’s dragged out of her thoughts and turns around to see Jan standing beside a tall blonde in a tight red dress. Even though her mind is still entirely preoccupied by Tayce, her mouth goes a little dry and her heart skips a beat because...well, she still knows an attractive girl when she sees one. She fixes the two girls with a polite smile as Jan gestures at the girl beside her.

“This is Brooke Lynn! She’s my friend from the design faculty that did fashion? Rosé was saying you wanted introduced.”

A’whora feels her cheeks flush red as Brooke cocks an eyebrow at her and smirks. “Truthfully, I’m flattered. Always happy to meet a fan.”

A’whora shakes her head and gives an embarrassed laugh. “That’s not...I mean-”

“I’m just fucking with you. Nice to meet you,” Brooke smiles lazily, leaning against the countertop as Jan slips away. “So Jan was saying you’re studying design too?”

“Yeah! I mean, it’s hell on earth just now, especially with deadline season coming up. But I do actually really enjoy it most of the time,” A’whora replies politely.

Brooke laughs in fond recollection. “God, I don’t miss that. Portfolios were a bitch.”

“Right!” A’whora agrees enthusiastically. “It’s quite nice, though, because lots of my flatmates are at the art school as well, so we kind of all have that shared bond of going through the shit together. Lawrence does textiles, Ellie does costume and Tayce does fine art. In fact, that’s Ellie and Tayce over there.”

A’whora turns to point to where Tayce has found Ellie, although she’s perturbed to see the two of them already looking their way. Ellie’s eyes widen as she gives them an awkward wave and Tayce immediately looks elsewhere, her entire body language shifty as if she’s been caught out.

A’whora’s pulse starts to race all over again. Is she…? No.

But then she thinks about that night in December when they first kissed, how A’whora had been driven so crazy by Tayce talking to so many other girls that she was basically forced to show her hand and her feelings. She knows they said they’d be friends, but this situation is being handed to her on a plate and she’d be an idiot to turn it down.

So A’whora flips some of her hair over her shoulder and exposes her neck as she tilts her head with interest. “So, Rosé was saying you graduated last year?”

She and Brooke Lynn talk for a while; A’whora doesn’t know if it’s five minutes or twenty, but with every passing minute she steps up the flirting just a little tiny bit more, so that it’s nearly imperceptible to any onlookers. Tayce is different though, because she’s not just any onlooker. To anyone else it just looks like two strangers getting to know each other at a party, but A’whora knows Tayce sees every time she tucks her hair behind her ears, every time she giggles behind her hands, every time she nods eagerly at whatever Brooke is saying.

She can feel Tayce’s eyes on her, and A’whora would be lying if she said it didn’t make her stomach flip over all the more.

She’s not getting much from Brooke, though: not much of a reaction, not much reciprocation, not much anything. So the moment she steps things up a bit and touches her lightly on the arm as she laughs at a joke she’s made, A’whora’s sure it’ll get her somewhere. Only Brooke pulls a face, moves her arm away and apologises.

“God, I’m sorry...you’re sweet, but I’ve actually got a girlfriend,” she explains, and A’whora feels herself blush, embarrassed at having been spurned but also that it was all in full view of Tayce. It’s made even worse by the way Brooke’s face lights up as her eyes fall on someone over A’whora’s shoulder. “In fact, here she is now! Hey, baby.”

Another girl appears from behind her and moves to stand beside Brooke, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. She’s small and pretty and hostile, and A’whora is suddenly regretting the entire making-Tayce-jealous endeavour if she’s about to get grief from Brooke’s girlfriend.

“And who the fuck is this bitch?” the girl says by way of an introduction, not so much a question but a demand.

“Vanessa…” Brooke looks at her warningly, but the girl continues regardless.

“Nah, I just wanna know what business she thinks she has comin’ onto my girl like this?” she narrows her eyes at A’whora. A’whora, for her part, has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow her more.

This never happened to Tayce in December, that’s for fucking sure.

“Honestly, babes, we were just talking. She’s just told me she’s taken, I would never have tried anything if I’d known,” she tries to explain, but judging from how the girl reacts she’s only made the situation worse.

“Babes? I ain’t your babe, Milkybar-Kid-lookin’ ass!” she cries, and A’whora feels her eyes darting to the punch bowl beside her, suddenly terrified that the liquid inside it could be used as a potential weapon. “Bet your damn life she’s taken, bitch!”

A’whora’s weighing up the options of apologising more or escalating this into a full-scale brawl (because really, who the fuck does this girl think she’s talking to?) when she feels a hand slip into the crook of her elbow and tug her away from the kitchen, the pint-pot Conor McGregor still yelling at her as she leaves.

“Okay, home time,” Tayce’s voice says, amusement coating her words and only serving to make A’whora feel worse. As she turns to look at her she sees Ellie on her other side, who ducks into the living room as Tayce picks up their jackets from the hooks in the hall.

“Tia wants to stay and keep drinking, think she’s found some of her MT friends here,” Tayce explains, handing A’whora her coat with a little smile. “Ellie’s gone to get Lawrence and Bim. What the bloody hell was that, girl?”

A’whora rolls her eyes petulantly, annoyed that her plan hadn’t exactly been as successful as she’d hoped. “Well, you know what they say. The hot ones are always taken.”

“Not always,” Tayce shrugs at her, a little twinkle in her eye as Ellie reappears with Lawrence on her arm.

“Bim’s gonny stay and look after Tia. They’re staying at Asttina’s tonight, anyway, so they can drop Tia off at ours or Veronica's depending on what she wants to do,” Lawrence explains, only a little unsteady on her feet. “Anyway, what’s this I’m hearing about A’whora being a homewrecker?”

As they leave the party, A’whora reluctantly tells the story and the three of them all laugh and joke in response. If she’s being honest, Tayce finding the whole thing funny isn’t the worst thing to come out of the whole situation. She’s not annoyed or ignoring her, and at least that’s some form of progress, as ridiculous as it seems.

The four of them walk home full of tipsy, carefree joy, Lawrence’s voice bouncing off the buildings in the streets as she sings Rain On Me and the others all join in with Ariana’s whistle tones. They fill the air with their horrendous, off-key yelling and no doubt awaken everyone who’s unfortunate enough to own a flat on the main road, but none of them care.

Lawrence and Ellie’s arms are still linked, the pair of them leaning into each other as they walk, but Tayce hasn’t afforded A’whora the same affection. Which is fine. They’re not what they were now, whatever the hell they had been. They’re friends, but A’whora isn’t sure that label is meant to make it feel as if a broken shard of glass is getting jammed through her heart every time she uses it.

It’s fine.

Their hands still brush against each other every so often as they walk, though, ghosts of moments when they’d hold hands in bed and Tayce would trace around her fingers silently and intimately. The sporadic contact only seems to amplify the electricity that’s already so present in the atmosphere. A’whora thinks back to the party, talking in the kitchen with the girl who was Tayce’s opposite in every way. She doesn’t know if she’s being deluded when she thinks about Tayce being jealous. She hopes she was, though. Really it’s not like she has any right to be; A’whora can do what she wants with who she wants, and if Tayce wanted her to herself then she should have…

Well. A’whora knows what she should’ve done.

If it hadn’t been for Brooke’s tiny pitbull girlfriend coming in and yelling the place down, A’whora would’ve probably tried to kiss her. Not that she wanted to kiss her. Not that she was even really hugely attracted to her like she is to Tayce. But she’s intoxicated by the idea of Tayce watching her kiss someone else and burning up with regret and hurt, wishing it was her in Brooke’s place. But Tayce clearly hasn’t been bothered by the whole thing, A’whora thinks, as they laugh and quote lines from Tracey Beaker at each other while they walk. She’s not acting as if she’s annoyed at A’whora. She’s acting as if...well, as if they’re friends.

Which is what they agreed. A’whora doesn’t know why she expected anything different.

It takes the four of them five goes at inputting the code on the door to their block, yelling in delight when A’whora manages it and then frantically shushing each other as they ascend the echoey stairwell. It’s Tayce who unlocks the door to their flat and they all stumble in, still giggly and laughing.

“Kitchen afterparty?” Tayce suggests as soon as she’s over the threshold. A’whora’s ready to agree. Pathetically, after everything that’s happened, she’d still always agree to more time with Tayce.

Ellie shakes her head though, and as she pushes the door to her own bedroom open Lawrence moves to linger in its doorway too. “Nah. Too tired. You two have fun though.”

“Speaking of you two having fun,” A’whora jokes, pointing her finger at the two girls and wiggling her eyebrows. She dissolves into giggles as Ellie rolls her eyes and Lawrence’s face turns bright pink, happy she’s managed to get her own back for the endless teasing she and Tayce had to go through at the hands of their flatmates.

“Shut up. We’re gonna watch High School Musical 3, Lawrence hasn’t seen it,” Ellie explains, a look passing between the two girls that A’whora’s endlessly suspicious of.

“Oh, I haven’t seen that either! Can I join?” Tayce says lightly, A’whora smirking at her and seeing the twinkle in her eyes as she realises exactly what she’s trying to do. The question gets the desired reaction: Ellie’s eyes shoot wide open and Lawrence’s jaw drops as she tries to think of an explanation as to why Tayce can’t join in their impromptu, cosy movie night.

Tayce puts them out of their misery a second later. “You know what actually, I think I’ll just head to bed too after all.”

The visible relief on the two girls’ faces makes A’whora stifle a laugh, and as they all say goodnight she catches sight of Ellie taking Lawrence’s hand as the door closes. A’whora’s eyes meet Tayce’s as they’re left on their own, both girls laughing softly at the situation.

“Cute. Good for them,” Tayce smiles gently, before looking at the floor bashfully. “You down, then? Kitchen afterparty?”

A’whora’s stomach twists awkwardly. As tempted as she is and as much as she wants to, she feels as if more alcohol would make the current situation worse, and if they’re going to try to be friends then they need to commit to it. So she shakes her head, watches as something shuts down behind Tayce’s eyes. “I’m gonna get some water and then head to bed. Sorry.”

“Water seems like a good idea,” Tayce shrugs, and as A’whora peels off down the corridor towards their kitchen Tayce follows behind her.

Neither of them bother to turn the light on when they get to the kitchen- filling up a glass and taking a few quick sips doesn’t take a long time- and the light from the hall paired with the glow through the window from the streetlamps outside is just enough to ensure A’whora can see what she’s doing as she takes a glass out of the cupboard overhead and fills it up, glugging at it quickly. She can feel Tayce waiting at the sink behind her, but doesn’t turn to make eye contact. The silence is tense and deafening and awkward. Friendship no longer suits them.

So when A’whora turns around from the sink and Tayce is closer to her than she thought with a sparkle in her eyes, she is immediately struck down with all the feelings she’s tried to suppress. Tayce boxes her in, one hand on the edge of the countertop at either side of her, and as she leans in she’s got a little smirk on her face.

“Tayce, wh-”

“Shhh,” Tayce whispers, before leaning in and kissing her, slow and gentle but with an underlying intensity that makes a heat pool in the pit of A’whora’s stomach. She becomes so caught up in the moment that she almost forgets about everything they’d said, everything they vowed they’d stop doing.

So A’whora pulls away, but the needy whine Tayce gives and the way she moves her hands to rest at her waist makes her have second thoughts. She smiles a little, cocks her head to mock her just a tiny bit. “We said we weren’t doing this again.”

Tayce gives another whine, pushes one of her hands a little higher to rest at A’whora’s ribcage. “I know, it’s a really bad idea.”

Tayce drops her head to rest on A’whora’s shoulder, presses light kisses to her neck that are too much and not enough all at once. A’whora hears herself gasp into the kitchen, already equal parts frustrated and desperate.

“You should probably stop kissing my neck, then,” she breathes out, hissing as Tayce’s lips hit a sensitive spot that doesn’t make the situation any better at all.

“You should probably stop acting like you like it so much,” Tayce smiles against her skin, punctuating her sentence with another kiss before adding, “Or else I wouldn’t do it.”

“Yeah, it’s all my fault, isn’t it?" A’whora giggles, looking to the ceiling in exasperation as she already knows how this is going to end.

It’s fun to let Tayce work for it a little, though.

“All your fault, you bad girl,” Tayce murmurs, pulling away from A’whora’s neck and instead keeping her eyes trained on her as she runs her hands up the sides of her thighs and under her skirt. If Tayce is looking for a reaction then she’s got one, because the feeling of Tayce’s fingers against her skin is filling A’whora’s head with all sorts of memories that’re making it even harder to stick to the rules they both set.

“You looked so good tonight,” Tayce murmurs, her eyes cast down to the floor. The praise makes A’whora’s heart race twenty times harder than it already is. She pouts, brings her own hands to rest at Tayce’s hips.

“I was so pretty, wasn’t I?" she teases, not missing the way Tayce’s eyes flutter closed at her words. She decides to twist the knife a little. “Bet you’re so gutted I wasn’t picking my whole outfit out thinking about you. You can’t stand to see me talking to other girls, that’s why you need to corner me in the kitchen to get a reaction, right?”

“Worked though, didn't it?” Tayce smirks, running one finger along the edge of her underwear and sending a shiver down A’whora’s spine. She’s so determined not to let Tayce win whatever game they’re playing though so she takes one hand off her waist, reaches behind her for the glass of water she’d poured that’s still half full.

“Hasn’t worked yet, we’re just talking,” A’whora smiles smugly, sipping from the glass whilst looking Tayce dead in the eye. She gets met with an equally challenging look, one that makes her squeeze her thighs together.

“Yeah, we didn’t make rules against talking,” Tayce says, bringing one of her hands up to brush a little piece of hair out of A’whora’s face and tuck it behind her ear. The contact makes A’whora’s whole body tingle as Tayce continues speaking. “Didn’t make rules against me telling you how much I want to fuck you against this counter and watch you have to try and be quiet.”

“Tayce!” A’whora laughs in shock, at once annoyed and turned on by the smirk that appears on Tayce’s face. She brings her arms up to circle around Tayce’s neck, pulls her a little closer so they’re pressed up against each other.

“Didn’t make rules against me telling you how all night I’ve been thinking about flipping that skirt up and touching you and feeling how wet you are,” Tayce mutters darkly, pushing her knee in between A’whora’s thighs as if to make her point. A’whora can only bite her lip to stop herself from giving a whimper of a response, because Tayce is busy reducing her to a puddle right in the middle of the kitchen and she can’t give her the satisfaction of appearing needier than she already is.

“Or how much I want to tell you exactly what a perfect angel you are while you’re riding my fingers and begging me for it-”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” A’whora sighs before Tayce’s lips cut her off and they’re kissing again, messy and hot and desperate and everything A’whora’s wanted for weeks. They can’t be friends when they’re so good like this, when they know just what the other likes and wants and needs, and A’whora needs Tayce so much.

Tayce pulls away only to murmur against A’whora’s lips. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

A’whora pulls back a little, taking a little breath of composure as she tries to form her words. “Want you to do all that. Everything you said.”

She can see she’s said the right thing from the way Tayce paws at her waist and slides a hand up the side of one of her thighs. She gives her a funny sort of smile. “Might need to beg me for it a little bit.”

A’whora pouts involuntarily at her words, moves a hand to cup Tayce’s jaw. “Shouldn’t have to beg when I know how much you want me.”

“Hmm. Sounds like something a spoiled brat would say,” Tayce smirks, leaning against her and pushing her thigh a little higher so that A’whora is pressed right up against it. When A’whora grinds down and Tayce’s eyes grow dark it sends a little thrill of delight down every single nerve ending in her body.

Tayce runs her tongue over her bottom lip before she whispers again. “If I didn’t want you like this so badly I’d take you over to those sofas and spank all this bad behaviour out of you.”

“Yeah, you want to watch me put my pretty little ass in the air for you, don’t you?” A’whora murmurs, squirming against Tayce’s thigh again. She can feel herself throb against her and it feels so good, fucking insanely good, but she hopes Tayce is going to give her what she wants sooner rather than later because she doesn’t want to end up coming just from this.

Tayce pulls her in for a kiss again, more frantic than the last, and as their lips crash together A’whora pushes her hands into Tayce’s hair, tugs on it in the hopes it’ll get a reaction out of her. Tayce gasps against her and it elicits a reaction in A’whora that’s so visceral that she bucks her hips again, the friction making her whine.

“Think you need to start begging or else you’re gonna come and I’m not even gonna get to touch you,” Tayce says as she pulls away, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows triumphantly when A’whora hisses out a fuck .

“Please, Tayce,” she swallows her pride and begs, her fingers playing lightly with the straps of Tayce’s top as she hears her hum in consideration.

“Not sure that’s quite enough begging for making me stand and watch you flirt with another girl at that party. Maybe I could just walk away and watch how you react to having nothing to fuck yourself against at all,” Tayce whispers as A’whora rides her thigh needily, but the tone to her voice tells A’whora she’s not anywhere near serious.

“You like watching me get all wound up way too much to do that.”

“I do,” Tayce leans in, rests her forehead against A’whora’s as she tugs her top up from where it’s tucked into the waistband of her skirt and skims her fingers against her bare skin. “I love watching you get exactly what you want, you look so pretty when you want to come. Hair all messed up and biting your lip like such a perfect little mess.”

A’whora feels her stomach flip over and the heat grow between her legs as she begins to get worn down. Her hands drop down to grab Tayce’s ass through her jeans, tries to pull her closer even though there's already hardly any distance between them. “Please, Tayce, want you so much.”

“Just wanna make my princess feel so good,” Tayce pouts mockingly, and it’s almost sinful enough to make A’whora disregard the “my” that Tayce drops in the middle of her sentence. It hurts A’whora’s feelings more than she’d care to admit, so as revenge she gives a self-indulgent shudder against Tayce’s thigh, lets out a moan that’s too loud and makes Tayce’s eyes grow wide.

“The girls are gonna hear,” Tayce warns her, leaning in for three short kisses which she clearly delights in pulling away from each time.

At this point A’whora thinks she’s being driven slowly insane and so she finally lets her pride crumble to the ground, well and truly demolished as she gives a desperate whine. “Fuck, please , baby, please, please, please, need you so much, please.”

Tayce smirks at her triumphantly and tilts her head. “There. That wasn't hard, was it?”

It’s then that A’whora breaks. As she loops her finger around the velvet choker Tayce is wearing and crashes their lips together again she only breaks the kiss to hop up onto the counter, spreading her legs wide and feeling a flutter of anticipation between them as Tayce immediately gets to work, gently trailing her fingers up the inside of her thighs and making A’whora’s mouth drop open. She tugs her lace underwear down so it’s sitting at her knees, rips her top and her bra off and brushes her fingers over her nipples, presses hot, wet open-mouthed kisses over what feels like every inch of bare skin. A’whora is such a panting, incoherent mess that she almost doesn’t notice that Tayce has stepped back a little. When she opens her eyes she can see her sweeping a long, slow glance down her body, her pupils blown and her jaw slack.

“You are a fucking miracle ,” she gasps in awe, and A’whora immediately feels herself growing shy, Tayce’s words making her feel more naked than the fact she’s sitting on their kitchen counter half-dressed. Tayce seems to grow a little reserved as well, maybe picking up on the reaction A’whora’s given her, and when she leans in to kiss her again it’s slow and languid in the same way that honey falls from a spoon.

There’s a pause in the kiss where Tayce hooks her fingers over the waistband of A’whora’s underwear and pulls it off of her completely, leaving her free to trail her fingers up the soft skin on the inside of A’whora’s thigh and make her buck against thin air helplessly. Tayce fans her fingers against her thigh and lazily swipes a thumb over A’whora’s slit, the moan of relief A’whora lets out and the little gasp Tayce gives piercing through the quiet of the kitchen.

“So wet for me,” Tayce breathes out all at once, dropping her lips to her neck and kissing her. There’s a second where she bites and sucks at her skin, making A’whora gasp and giggle guiltily and squirm against her touch. Tayce’s lips are hot against her skin as she continues. “I would be on my fucking knees if I didn’t want to look at your gorgeous face the whole time.”

“Tayce, please,” A’whora begs, bouncing a little on the countertop as she desperately and wordlessly tries to get Tayce’s thumb to circle her clit. She suspects Tayce is being deliberate with the contact; she knows if she holds back then A’whora will just start begging her desperately like she did before.

The little smirk that appears on her face confirms her suspicions. “What is it, baby?”

A’whora grinds down but Tayce only flicks her thumb away, the frustration she feels and the way she’s practically aching in response turning Tayce’s little playful smile into a shit-eating grin. A’whora feels her bottom lip stick itself out and she whines needily. “You know what.”

“Aww. You not able to use your words any more, princess?” Tayce pouts mockingly back at her, and in response A’whora brings her hands up under the hem of Tayce’s top and skates her nails down her back. It seems to have the desired reaction as Tayce pulls her hand away for a second, A’whora subsequently drawing in a deep, shaky breath as she feels Tayce’s fingers slide deep inside her, her thumb rubbing gentle circles against her clit and leaving her feeling so overwhelmed that she tips her head forward to rest on Tayce’s shoulder.

“Fuck, so good,” she whispers, shuddery and breathy against Tayce's neck as she rides her fingers. Going from minimal teasing to having her every need met all at once is rendering her almost speechless but as she straightens up she finds she wants to keep talking if only to see the way Tayce blinks slowly and heavily as she collects herself, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she watches A’whora become more and more wound up. “So perfect, keep going...fuck…”

“God, I wish you could see what you look like right now,” Tayce hisses, curling her fingers and managing to hit a spot that makes A’whora squeeze her eyes shut and bite down hard on her lip to stop herself from squealing in ecstasy. She keeps her eyes closed as Tayce keeps talking to her, every word making her melt and only intensifying the waves of bliss that are racking her body. “You’re so beautiful, Aurora, oh my God, so, so, so gorgeous...perfect fucking angel…”

A’whora presses a frantic hand to Tayce’s jaw and pulls her in to kiss her again, but they’re unable to make it last all that long when they’re both breathing so heavily and A’whora is rocking so much against Tayce’s fingers it makes her momentarily wonder about how sturdy the countertops in their shithole of a flat actually are. It’s at the point now where A’whora is feeling so soaking wet and overstimulated that she can’t even form a single thought apart from just fuck , so how she manages to form a sentence Christ only knows.

“Missed getting me like this?”

“Like what, baby, a dripping wet desperate mess?” Tayce’s free hand grips her thigh just that little bit tighter in response. “Missed it so fucking much.”

Her words make A’whora shiver with lust, and something inside her curls like a tightly wound spring. She can feel her orgasm building with every passing second but there’s something different about how it usually feels; it’s all far more intense and all-consuming than normal as if every single one of her nerve endings are buzzing in anticipation. She’s completely incapable of speech now, only breathy little moans and needy whines as Tayce keeps whispering into her ear about how perfect she is, how pretty and gorgeous and beautiful, all the while fucking her gently and pulsing her fingers against that spot deep inside her and teasing her clit.

It’s because of her lack of words that A’whora can’t give Tayce much of a warning when suddenly her body seems to leap two levels at once and she’s so dangerously close that all she can do is urgently whisper Tayce’s name before her moans get increasingly louder and louder, her orgasm rips through her, and she swears she comes harder than she’s ever done before in her life. Everything is throbbing so violently that all A’whora can do is let out broken cries into the silent kitchen, completely unable to care about who could hear her. Her orgasm seems to last a few seconds longer than usual and it takes her by surprise, and her body is so racked from it that she needs a couple of seconds to compose herself. She breathes raggedly with her forehead against Tayce’s shoulder, and she can feel the other girl rubbing her back gently with her free hand.

It’s Tayce who speaks first, her voice humoured as she whispers quietly into the silence and slides her fingers out of her slowly and carefully. “Fuckin’ hell, girl. I could feel that.”

A’whora has to take two little breaths before she lifts her head off Tayce’s shoulder and replies with the only word she can form. “Shit.”

Tayce giggles, and it’s so endearing that A’whora feels her heart swell with affection and maybe a little something deeper. She’s barely got time to dwell on it before Tayce locks eyes with her, a little sparkle in them as she takes the same two fingers she’d fucked A’whora with seconds ago and wraps her lips around them, sucking them into her mouth before drawing them out and letting her eyes flutter closed. “You taste so good, fuck.”

At that point, A’whora could've just stayed silent. Or responded with something else. Or just pulled Tayce in for another kiss before returning the favour. But no- she has to ruin it by opening her mouth and saying the first thing that comes into her head, a stupid joke that’s only going to hurt her instead of make her laugh.

“I don’t think that’s something that friends do.”

Tayce’s expression falters and her palms come to rest on A’whora’s thighs. Her gaze is fixed on the floor and there's a small pause before she replies quietly. “Well maybe I don’t want to be friends.”

Every cell in A’whora’s body freezes up and she’s rendered almost motionless at Tayce’s response. She doesn’t even care about how desperate she comes across as she replies almost breathlessly. “What do you want, then?”

Tayce doesn’t meet her eyes. The seconds tick by. Her palms slip off A’whora’s thighs and come to rest at her sides.

“Tayce?”

Tayce takes a step back, casts her gaze to the ceiling this time. She seems to be looking everywhere but at her. A’whora watches her press her lips together, bring her arms up to wrap herself in a hug. The silence grows longer and more ominous, storm clouds hanging over the two of them that are heavy with rain.

And then it dawns on A’whora that what Tayce must be feeling is all-encompassing regret. She regrets it all. Everything she said, everything they just did. She’s dug herself into a hole that she can’t escape from.

So A’whora helps her out of it. The tears flood her eyes as she hops down from the kitchen counter, snatches up her clothes with her face burning from embarrassment, and her hot tears run down her face almost as fast as she dashes back to her room. She’s completely humiliated, and she’s not going to stick around to talk things out.

Tayce doesn’t yell after her, doesn’t come back down the corridor for her, doesn’t stand at her door and knock and ask to be let in. Instead there is only silence and darkness, and all A’whora can do is lie down on her bed and sob into her pillow, trying her hardest not to make a sound but wondering if she's failing even at that.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #uk2 #ortega #me and you together #taywhora #lesbian au #college au #university au #freshers au #british au #roommate au #smut #tayce #a'whora #friends with benefits to lovers #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #bimini bon boulash #tia kofi

[unproduciblesmackdown]

which bmc scenes make you the softest bc for me it's gotta be most of the stagedorks scenes ESPECIALLY a guy that i'd kinda be into. mostly bc of christine cause her and michael are my favs (i love them all sm though) but also bc of jeremy because he is a close second to both of them. also vimh but vimh makes me cry a lot although nowadays i can hardly watch one scene without at the very least tearing up. anyways yeah which ones make you soft

i simply rewatched bmc and took notes for this and really got off track at points in the sense of sticking to What Makes You Softest but that’s how it goes babey

ACT ONE - in mts when jeremy is just having a whole moment being smitten in christine's presence while she's inelegantly picking herself up off the floor and smearing on lip balm and adjusting a skirt wedgie - jeremy and michael just being default that glad to meet each other in the middle of a random schoolday - michael hyping up jeremy's crush on christine and just encouraging this momentum to get jeremy to sign up for the play - ilpr.....that christine stops after like, the first two verses and goes back to her book b/c she doesn't figure someone's looking to listen to her beyond that but then she sees jeremy's still 110% paying attention and the whole rest of the song enfolds with increasing enthusiasm - jake doing that whole bit "all the pressure i feel to be the best at everything all the time" lmao classic stuff here, depressing content delivered in this humorousse way. charming moment - "leave me alone, i've had a bad day" - 2pg......when michael taps jeremy on the shoulder to get jeremy to join in on his choreo, which jeremy then does.....that michael asks if jeremy will be too cool for Video Games and jeremy just responds Emotionally Directly......we love the Favorite Person moment......that this song just ends with the two of them grooving 2gether god bless - jeremy stammering and Tics and Fidgeting when the squip remarks uponst it - jeremy delivering the Looking Pretty Sexy Brooke as awkwardly as possible and she's just like "thanks :)" - jeremy's own Theatricality coming out......hey hamlet - jeremy spinning around in place alternately addressing both brooke and the squip with "oh i'm supposed to meet my friend michael" - nice little detail wherein brooke signals for chloe to join in on her choreo - speaking of, v fond of the Moment jeremy is in on both their choreo......brooke sort of alarming jeremy with her whole attempted grande finale, straw and all, ft. the first instance of her messing with his hair so much she's just tugging his entire head around - cute that jake and rich have a sort of 2pg-esque handshake routine too - jeremy's "that's sad, what should i do" reaction re: jenna - rich's Earnest invitation to come over and play xbox... - "bonjour, jeremy" "ooh brooke!" and this whole exchange, her complimenting him, him laughing at "That Was French" and remembering to ask about pinkberry - love the whole choreo sequence/s in sync up, especially fond of his Moments with the girls, bumping hips with chloe (twice), hearing some Gossip from jenna, posing with brooke.... ;__; - the bowling alley performance art exchange before agtikbi ;____; - agtikbi......the glittery hearts choreo.....the whatever! the interlude or whatever!!! the I Guess A Part Of Me section hhhhoughhh ;o; ;o; ;o; ;o; ;o; that she pulls him into a hug and puts her head against his shoulder omggg ;_________; - brooke just trying to interact with jeremy the Right Way w/o any guidance on the bleachers and it continues to be awkward and funny....like comforting just his Leg while he converses w/his squip.....how she just ends up Physically pushing him around by the hands and head and shoulder and etc......whole situation here in upgrade.mp3 clearly less than Ideal but jeremy and brooke are nevertheless very cute individually And together - meanwhile jake also trying to genuinely Be With christine in upgrade is also charming lol, quitting archery to hang w/a girl like her.... - i always love when the Playful Shove brooke gives jeremy at "but at the mall, you looked at me" pushes him back a whole few steps....this moment of them truly Getting each other sans anyone else's interference.....tres magnifique - jeremy being That psyched to see michael for the first time (in like, less than one full day lol)....michael being That psyched just hearing that jeremy's cool scifi thing worked out after all - lgw ;_________________________; - like i'm some normal, handsome guy..... - giving us All that silence after "The Problem Has Always Been Me" - the whole bit where he launches into the "I'm Not The [series of insults]" and i've realized it's really especially a stretch to say i'm Soft for these moments in lgw but i Am vulnerable and that's its power. little 1" tall will roland on my screen here just made me shed a real tear doing That.....

ACT TWO - brooke's Howl at the end of her verse lmawooo - oughhh jeremy and brooke Greeting each other at the party too, jeremy unable to disappoint her and going for the Real Compliment, just v charming. rip - jake and jeremy's danceoff lol hell yes and then jake just having Misunderstood the costume plan between him and christine lol - the squip getting in on the dancing :) go you funky little ai - jeremy and brooke singing that last verse of Halloween v enthusiastically at each other, - again that jeremy is just genuinely glad to see michael.... - the inherent intimacy of singing mitb b/c your bff dumped you..... - AGTIKBI REPRISE..... ;______________________________; hhhhuouuuoh my god :'3 the lil detail that at the Height of things christine is Shy and turns away.....just. This Scene oh my god - soft in a vulnerable way like, rip to jenna where we're seeing chloe's Lack Of Enthusiasm in accepting a call from her :[ - the Shift at the start of the pants song :] - and the lil mitb reprise during said pants song lmao, also always having a great time w/this concept of "maybe this teen having a rough time needs some guidance from someone grown w/all that bonus maturity here" - i wish there was a way i could help everyone but i don't know how so i guess i'll just do theatre..... - jenna being Moved simply being asked for the first time ever How She Is u_u then her being like "....Okay!" lmfao jenna's great - just have to say in whatever context i'm v fond of pitiful children there at the end lmfao the bass kicks in like that and we're having a great time - the audience always having that response to "all the way to broadway" - jeremy going "you came to see me in the play? :)" like, that he's processing the significance of that in the middle of these Very Raised Stakes - i'm soft for will roland's vocal glitching mouth noises live every night!!! - jeremy like "ha! >:)" flipping his squip off after he's successfully Apologized lmfaoooo love him - but then having that real And I'm Stronger Than You Think I Am victory like :'| - that michael's been by like a ton btw during jeremy's probably somewhat concerning coma. also cherish the lil dance he does while they're celebrating mr. heere's bepantsedness - jake and jeremy sharing a Dab - and just the Popular Kids actively seeking him out to help re: christine b/c they just Want To Be Supportive.....very nice - this vimh interlude or whatever with christine and jeremy like jlsdfhh i think of this all the time - me and the voices in my head have made up our collective mind ;__; what do they say we should do ;______; and the Woohoo! ;_______________; - huoughh kiss and you KNOW especially the [jeremy spinning away in sheer enthusiasm] of 2.0 just KILLS THE MAN ;O; - jeremy not missing a beat despite the squip's interruption leeet's GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO - the more than survive na na na na na na na na na na na's but they're all So, and jeremy ending With everyone but also there with Himself and it's so Good and Everything Wants What Vimh Has!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! hhrough ;0; - that jason does that spin at curtain call w/his excellent squip costume... - that in virtually any given curtain call when they get into line together there's that lil ritual of george smacking will's ass lmao love languages

i mean tl;dr quite Same in that like, most likely to inspire tearing up over something or other includes agtikbi reprise and vimh which is just like, again any finale wants what it has, and the I Guess A Part Of Me bit of the non-reprise agtikbi like Oof augh this is so cute, and lgw always Gets me, and while i was rewatching speaking of being soft and move-able i was also just continually struck with delight over various moments throughout, and noticing little details for the first time thank god. just Vulnerable the whole time

#anonymous #Great Ask thank you for sending it #bmc

[sometimes-i-write-4-you]

could you do #4 from fluff and #4 from the kisses prompt lists with JJ from outer banks! i love your work!!

Jealousy - JJ x reader

a\n: this takes place before the show!

trigger warnings: cursing and underage drinking

word count: 1735

I was sitting on Kie's bed, waiting for her to get something. The Pogues and I were planning to crush a Kook party. Technically, I wasn't crushing the party, as Topper's cousin I was invited. Much like Kie, I was a Kook by blood and Pogue by choice. Topper kept trying to make me stop hanging out with my "gang" as he called them, but I would never listen. He's one piece of work, and I think that if he could look past their social status he would get along with John B , JJ and Pope, and he used to get along with Kie during her Kook year, which is when we met.

"and… found it!" Kie called, running back to her room. She showed me what seemed to be a hair pin. It wasn't her normal style, but when she wasn't forced by her mom to do it, dressing up was fun.

"are you sure it's okay to bring us along?" JJ asked. "what's the worst that's gonna happen, they'll stop inviting me?" I say. John B parks his mini-van a little far – just a precaution, in case Kooks would want to ruin it. "if you guys are not at a party, I don't want to be there" I add, getting up. JJ's hand looked for mine, taking it before he passes me and get off the van to help me get to the ground. "you are so sweet" I mumble, giving him a short peck on the lips that he was quick to deepen. He might be the PDA kinda guy – he wanted everyone to know that this is his girl, and no one can touch her, however I wasn't. if I don't enjoy seeing couples making out in the middle of the street, why would I do it?

"guys, as much as I think you two make a great couple, move it!" Kie calls from inside the Van/ "sorry" I say, and move quickly, dragging my boyfriend behind me. "these two…" Pope sighs, and we're starting to walk toward the Cameron's palace. "Top!" I smile at my cousin. Gotta love your family, right?

"(y\n), I told you, if you keep bringing your Pogue friends, I'd have to stop inviting you" He says, looking at the four behind me. "Top, I told you, I don't want to be here without them" I reply, mimicking his tone. He sighs, "you're so lucky people love you". He gives them a half-smile, "just don't touch anything expensive, and don't steal". "that's actually a good idea, hadn't thought of that, thanks buddy" JJ jokes, but Topper doesn't laugh. "have a lovely evening!" JJ adds as my cousin walks away. "this guy is a grade A ass-hole, fucking hate him" John says. "hey, that's my cousin you're talking about! But yes, he is an A-hole" I say, half a grin on my face.

John and Kie were dancing together, Pope was talking to a girl I recognized as one of the smaller Kook families – they we're mad rich, but nit as mad rich as Topper or the Camerons. JJ went to get the both of us a drink, and I sat inside, waiting for him. Rafe sat down next to me.

I pretty much grew up with him, since our families were close, but I never liked him. He was selfish, a huge a-hole and his world view is all fucked-up. There are two reasons I'm nice to him: 1. My mom is a business associate with his dad and it can risk her job, though I doubt Ward Cameron cares for his son enough to harm his business, which leads me to number 2. In one of the times our families went to a vacation together, I saw him getting beat up by my dad. He was 16 at the time and I was 13. I went up to him with ice after his father left and asked if he was fine. He said, "yeah I'm fucking great" and ripped the ice beg. He scared the shit out of me, so I run off crying. I looked back for a second to see him picking up the ice and going off to wash it.

"Hi Rafe" I say, forcing a warm smile. "hi (y\n)" he replies. The silence is getting awkward, but he doesn’t leave the seat beside me. "how are you?" he asks. "pretty good, you?" I reply. "fucking great" he smiles, but I can tell he's off. He was always off. "hi, do you ever think back at the vacations we used to go to with our families?" he asks, sipping on his beer. Well, looks like he's not gonna leave me anytime soon. "not really, I was so young, I can barley remember a thing" I say. That's a lie. I remember a lot of things, it's just very negative. "well, there was one time we were having a barbecue, and they did my dad did you're burger really rare, so I cooked it some more" Rafe says, "I think I was 16 at the time, which would make you.. 13". It was at the same trip he was mean to me. His mood changes were crazy, even back then, but it was less dramatic before he started using Cocaine. Maybe he was already using at 16?

"I didn't know that" I say. "yeah, people seem to forget it now, but back then it was a whole thing. I think my dad asked your mom if we can get married" he laughs, and I laugh too out of politeness. "which actually leads me to ask-" he starts.

"hey babe" JJ says, handing me my drink and kissing me, just to make sure Rafe picks up the fact I'm taken. "hi JJ" I smile into the kiss and give him a quick peck to end the kiss. "you really should dump you're little Pogue" Rafe sighs. "oh, and who would be better for her? You?" JJ asks, ready to start a fight. "anyone who can satisfy all of her needs" Rafe says, "you knew, nice house, good food, good sex…" Rafe says, and JJ is getting more and more upset and I can already see this ending badly. "well, I'm perfectly happy with JJ, so you can just... shut it, Rafe" I say, and take JJ's hand to drag him away from the scene. "you are so lucky I have more important things to do!" Rafe calls after us. He just wants attention, even if it's a punch from a Pogue.

"so what were you and you're Kooky boyfriend we're talking about?" JJ asks once we're far enough. I sit down, "ew, gross. Even if I wasn't taken by the best guy on this island, I'd never touch this maniac" I say, slightly giggling and taking a sip of my drink. It was my favorite; JJ knows me so well. He looks at me, waiting for an answer. "he just asked me if I remember something from a family vacation we went to together" I say. "what happened there? Did you two make out or something?" he asks, trying to pass it off as a joke, but he seemed serious. "I was 13" I say, "so no". "what happened then?" JJ asks, his hands in his pockets and he's still standing looking at me. "he cooked my burger" I say. "is that like... a sexual metaphor-" "JJ, once again, I was 13!" I remind him, "now sit down". He sits down. "I'm sitting down cause I want to, not cause you told me" he says. "whatever, JJ" I smile. "so, what, like, he cooked your burger, and then what?" JJ asked. "then his dad asked my mom for my hand in marriage for his son" I say. "oh, so you didn't make out, you got engaged, that's better, good to know" JJ says, smiling and taking a sip of his beer. "oh, you're jealous" the relation hits me. "no, why would I be? Because a guy who can provide you a better future is hitting on you? That'd be stupid" he says, cynical, "yeah, of course I'm jealous". I wasn't expecting him to admit it, but I guess 2 beers make him in touch with his feelings.

"J, you have nothing to be jealous of. I don't care about the future; I just care about you" I say. "but-" he tries. "JJ Maybank, I love you, and only you, okay?" I say. "I love you too, (y\n)" he smiles at me. I put down my glass on the table and crush my lips on his. He's quick to return the kiss, putting down his beer. His hands find my cheek and my waist, pulling me as close as possible. My hands are on his collar. He was wearing a button up. Unlike John B, JJ knew how to button up his shirts, so I was quick to open the fist one and pull his shirt collar a little farther down. The hall we were sitting us was pretty empty, so my lips travel down his neck and back to his lips and he returns the favor. "get a fucking room!" we hear someone call. We look up to see Pope, who I'm guessing came in looking for us. "you're just jealous" JJ pouts, because you get none".

"I saw him talking to Diana, don't jinx him that" I say. "I actually decided not to go for it with her, she's nice but... I have someone else on my mind" he says, sitting down next to us. I want to keep kissing JJ but the ancient code of bros before hoes is stopping me. JJ hugs my shoulder and I lean into him. "who's the lucky girl?" JJ asks. "just... no one" Pope says. "well, I'll get you a drink to forget about that no-one, ha?" JJ says, tapping both mt thigh and Pope's thigh to push himself up. I take my drink and finish what's left. "it's not no one if you pass Diana because of her" I say. "it's Kiara" Pope says, "but just… keep it between us, JJ will tell John B, and I think he's into Kie too, and I don't want to fight about it. Not like I'll do anything about it anyway, no Pogue on Pogue macking" Pope shares. "your secret is safe with me" I smile at him.

tag list: @mary-grace-milne @loveylangdon

i forget but added oops

#jj maybank #jj #jj x reader #jj imagines #jj imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagines #outer banks X reader #outer banks netflix

[nahoyaglock]

Frobi selfship headcannons

!!sfw!!

shigabi, tenfro, fronaka, frobishima, inuobi, frokuto, aobi, frotani, fromi, ushibi, frobinoya, katsubi hcs

a/n: sorry for these long ass headcanons, i hope yall enjoy them tho?? also sorry for the reoccurring mention of my terrible paranoia </3 im going through a hard time w it rn, pls excuse me

reblogs on selfship posts are super appreciated!

shigabi

video games

i am his baby! he has a soft spot for me :3

lets me sit in his lap while he plays video games

hc that shigaraki is a twitch streamer instead of a villain and he streams with me on his lap

messy hair, black headset, pajama pants and a black hoodie vs pink tank top, white skirt, pink bows and a fuzzy blanket

we own cats named wario and waluigi >:3

we play ow and animal crossing together

he plays shooters and horror games while i play otome games and rhythm games

watching happy feet and cuddling, lets me lay between his legs as he plays with my hair

calls me brat and baby

cooks me seafood

some days i want him to baby me, other days we go run around at 4am

teases me bc of my height, leanes down to give me kisses

randomly tugs on my hair and pretends he didnt do it throught the day

i kick his ugly ass ankles /j

tenfro

baking, cuddling, horror movies and videos games 24/7

both bullied so we confine in each other and comfrt the other well

hes very caring so he always checks in, even when i seem fine

notices my mood changes

"do you need a hug?" and just hugs me bc he knows i do

he likes to rest his head on my chest when he rants to me

booping noses and interlocked hands ♡

ushijima gives us rides everywhere

their manager, so i have to make sure tendou does well

the other team members are happy im dating tendou, especially ushijima

sitting with tendou on the bus to their matches

kisses and hugs after every match and practice match

lets me wear his jersey bc he hates when other guys look at me

one time terushima tried to flirt w me and he made ushi scare him away

fronaka

hand on ass always.

tries to fight any guy that even comes near me

me, ryu and noya, the trio !

walks me to class with his arm around my waist

basically bestfriends to lovers so we spemd all our time together like we did before we were dating

still a slight kiyoko simp but lmao so am i, we admire her beauty together

brags to the team about me, telling them random things about me

"frobis favorite food are clams!" crosses gis arms proudly

"ryuu, you dumbass" insert me slapping the back of his bald head

saeko teasing him and telling him to treat me well

says "hey bae" and probably uses the devil emoji ajxjzjx

plays with my hair, he loves my curls :D

we prolly have a dog, small dog bc ooi dogs scary,, D:

frobishima

always has an arm around me

denki bestie af !

also one that i can relate to so we can share our experiences and comfort each other

top kin so we get along very well and have alot of the same interests

movie nights w/ the bakusquad

cuddling kiri the whole time and making the rest of them feel single

he likes to pinch my shoulder to get my attention

big smiles and playful biting :D

he probably has alot of my clothes left at his house bc i like wearing his shirts

insert kiri cooking while i back hug him <3

likes to princess carry me, and carries me when im sleepy

thigh kisses bc he loves them alot <3

best an comforting, sings me to sleepy and helps me when i have really bad paranoia </3

true loml

inuobi

walk to school together everyday

sometimes we race

brings me a breakfast bar, sometimes his mom makes me a morning snack too

little pecks and hand holding

we're like two energetic puppies in a relationship

i always attend his games and cheer for him and the boys

insert kuroo, tora, kenma, and kai acting like my dads

me and inu doing puppy eyes for little spoon, he usually gives in and takes big spoon

lots compliments and blushing

"inu, y-you look cute today"

"frobi, you look s-stunning"

comfort buddies!

convinces the coach to let me ride on the bus with them to tournaments

sleppys babies on the back of the bus

members have pictures of us sleeping

sharing a blanket that kai gave to us bc the bus was cold and sharing a scarf that inuoka bought me for winter

frokuto

if hes sad, im sad :( if im sad, hes sad :(((

my energy beam, my number one, my ace 🥺

he loves to hold my small hands in his big ones, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb

he'd walk around at tournaments, big star bo with his tiny cute girlfriend

saru, komi, and konoha give me headpats

bo pouts because they didnt guve him head pats

many pats for the ace!! :D

during lunch i hang w him and akaashi, akaashi having to deal w me and bos shenanigans

lowkey, we probably bring him stress

me and bo go on night time adventures, he drives us <3

brings home ramen after a long day of practice

when hes sad he cries into my chest and i play with his hair

"its okay bo, your still my ace" kisses and more kisses and more kisses

he loves to hold my thumbs and kiss my wrists

always looks for me when he has a match, sees me cheering the loudest for him <3

hes my baby, he'll smiles at me and ill cry

aobi

listener

he lets me talk about my interests and day, i let him talk about his

loves to be supportive, my shoulder to lean on

we take public transportation after school to get to our house

he lets me lean against him and sleep, tired from a long day, he'll wrap his large arm around me

he opened up after a while and smiles more, sometimes he'll lightly giggle, one time i made him laugh for 5 whole mins

hes so golden in my eyes, lake dates, he likes to just walk with me

treats me to food whenever we go out

i help him be more open and push him to be himself, but i respect his boundaries !!!

if he feels uncomfortable he'll poke my back gently

i take him away from the uncomfortable situation and ask what was wrong so that it doesnt happen again

people ask why im dating him bc hes "scary"

my response is a punch to the face

jkjk, its none of their business why, but its bc hes very sweet and kind hearted, who couldn't love an angel like my nobu? :]

frotani

complicated hc?? i have like two ways it could go, my top is def still me being a shiratorizawa girl bc lmao canon !!

met him through levy, (@bigger-simp-than-kazuichi) aoba johsais manager

she introduced me to her besyies, kyo and yahaba

"hey, you're the one they call mad dog?" he hates that now but responds with "yes, im mad dog."

levy invites me to alot of their events if im not busy, lowkey oikawa is salty bc im shiratorizawas manager

kyotani stays at my side, we talk about our days and his live for volleyball

we exchange numbers and he messages me at night, we have hour long conversations till one of us falls asleep

late night calls, he just grumbles and scoffs at anything i say and he just waits for me to sleep before hanging up

confesses to me at a match infront of my team, i just kissed him in response

he visits me whenever he can, and brings me food and gifts

imagine aoba johsai vs shiratorizawa, rip kyo lmao ushi get his ass /j

kyotani likes to hold mt hands and wrap my in his jacket and scarf

barks at anyone who bothers me, loves when i sit on his lap btw

fromi

komi will pick me up over his shoulder and drag me to the room when he wants cuddles

loves horror movies, horror movie marathons any time of the year

he likes and kiss my jaw and hold my thumbs

calls me short when he's not that much taller than me

we curse at each other every 5 minutes

insert sarukui climbing through our windows atleast once a month to have a movie marathon with us

komi likes to slap my head

we probably play fight all the time, definently turns into something more intense

akaashi and konoha break us up and me and komi will be confused

"whats wrong? We were just playing"

"yall were strangling each other"

"we're fineee~"

chaotic, we always look like were fighting or arguing

"fuck you, i hate you" "fuck you too bitch"

holds hands and deep kisses the next second

akaashi lowkey hates dealing with us, bokuto loves us skxj

ushibi

shira and hayato convinced me to join at their manager

the original shiratorizawa manager, ceo of the company 😎

they introduced me to the team, and they took a liking to me

ushijima was by my side alot, helped me with my job and carrying thing especially

he was so kind and even spoke to me, asked if i ate, if i slept well, if i needed anything

didn't realize it was different from what he normally was like until tendou asked about it

one time ushi was walking me home and i asked him about it, but he was definently confused

"i, guess so. your attractive and have a good personality. i would date you."

hes so blunt, awkwardly blunt

so we,, started dating, and now he really never leaves my side

i got haterz bc im THE ushiwakas bby girl 🙈

gives me headpats and kisses before everymatch

lets me wear his team jacket, huge on my small figure

he enjoys our height difference, he thinks i look cute when i look up at him :3

teaches me how to play volleyball, even smiles when i land a good serve

patches me up whenever i get hurt, slight frown if i ever fall

hes,, kinda fatherly? a person w no dad calling someone fatherly sjcjxj lmao 🙈🙈

nurturing and caring, ushi i will kiss you, probably calls me by my full name, fro, manager, baby, and sometimes even brat

frobinoya

hes woke, i just know it

all the characters prolly woke but hes woke asf!!

we run around, literally our whole relationship is mainly just running around and being wild

arcade hangouts after school/practice

he loves arcade games so much, and so do i

we take off guard pictures of each other, also chaotic and blurry pictures

he'll kick me in the butt, que me chasing him till i run out of breath

he likes to support my interests, loves to watch me practice dancing

we wear cat ears and maid outfits and take pictures in his room at like 5am when the sun rises

videos of us kissing and cuddling in his gallery

posts on insta to make ryuu jealous

buys me cute skirts bc he knows i love to look pretty for him !!

im his pretty kitty ♡♡

likes to call me his girly~ and his serotonin

holds my hand whenever im feeling sad and strokes my cheek with his thumb

lowkey has a good voice, sings heather to me while he nuzzles his nose into my jaw

katsubi

random kisses throughout the day

pinky holding bc he likes my small hands

leans over me when he wants a kiss

gets teased by the squad and just endures it bc he likes the way i giggle when they do

head pats ! lots :3

likes to show off infront of class 1-b by holding me close and kissing me

brings me lunches he cooked and likes to feed me

always finds an excuse to be on my team for training or being my training buddy

barks at anyone who tries to train with me /j

walking me to school and home, even brings me over

mitsuki loves it whenever i come over and makes cookies when i do

katsuki helps her make the cookies D: so precious

never kisses infront of his parents bc he doesnt want to deal with their teasing and nagging

sings ballads, will sing me to sleep, probably listens to rap and rnb, some rock, but will sing me some khalid since he knows i love him

probably sung me "can i be him" one night when my paranoia got bad <//3

i laid on his chest and he ran his fingertips up and down my back, singing softly to me until i fell asleep

forehead kiss before he drifted to sleep as well, katsuuuu :( <3

@kekozume @nekosvno

#self ships #shigabi #tenfro #fronaka #frobishima #inuobi #frokuto #aobi #frotani #fromi #ushibi #frobinoya #katsubi #frobis.💿

[descendantofthesparrow]

Remember your past life - Prince! Harry Hook x Chosen Knight! Reader - part 16 - Captured Memories

@musicarose​

=

“i’m not sure why all your memories have been depleted, the shrine of resurrection was never completely examined and it did not give any sign of chance of losing memories, It could be that you were in there for so long that your brain just…forgot?”

You sighed and leaned back on your heels, pouting slightly. Harry patted your shoulder and looked at Regina. “so how did I separate from my….here version?” he ended sounding slightly confused as to word out his question.

Regina understood but shrugged “that is something that I can't explain as well, i’m sorry your highness” Harry winced and waved his hands around.

“um, Harry is fine” Regina nodded, smiling at him, before turning back to you.

“do you have the sheikah slate?” you nodded and unclipped it from your hips, handing it over to her, she hummed, tapping the buttons and screen quickly.

“It seems it is fully functional if only missing the upgraded runes, is there any more questions?” Regina asked as she pulled up the camera rune. “ooh, wait a moment, it seems this is the camera prince harry used all those years ago….possibly if you visit these sights, you could regain your lost memories” she handed the slate back to you and you slowly nodded, glancing at the white stone platform with the shadow of the castle behind it.

“so that will be my request for you, visit these sights….and once you visit as least one, return to me, there is something the prince wanted me to give to you (y/n)” you glanced at harry slightly confused but agreed.

“yes, ma’am” Regina smiled and nodded.

“good, now your friends should be at the inn waiting for you, don’t keep them waiting, and I believe they will want an explanation.”

You sighed and nodded, harry standing first and holding out his hand to you, you smiled in thanks and grabbed it, letting him haul you up from the floor.

“Goodnight you two, sleep well”

“thank you” you muttered in sync, walking out of Regina’s home and to the inn, flinching as the entire group seemed to lunge at you for answers.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!?!”

=

You and harry carefully packed your bags, freezing when anyone moved or you heard something. Slowly sneaking out of the inn, you bought a bag of food and some flint, sheathing the sword from the training shrine on top of the nearby mountain.

Harry looked to you, a worried look on his face “lass are yeh sure about this”

“This isn’t their fight Harry, I need to find out what happened, and I need to find out how to help, I feel like this is all my fault” you whispered, swallowing down the pit in your throat. “I can't get them involved” harry frowned, pressing his lips together.

“i-I understand lass, but well still have to come back to get whatever “I” wanted to you have” he finger quoted as he referenced his past life.

“I know, it seems though I can….teleport with the shrines?” you chuckled, sending a comforting look to Harry as you climbed onto (horse name) “harry, they’ll be fine, this place is untouched by the dark one, and it'll stay that way”

“promise?” he asked quietly as he mounted his horse, you lead your horse to him, reaching over and cupping his cheek.

“promise”

=

You peeked at the picture, it seemed to match up perfectly with the archway in front of you. “um, I think this is it?” you muttered, holding it up, smiling as you matched the picture with the present archway. “It is!”

“great….now what-“ you and Harry froze, watching as the world blurred out, flashes of shadows and people coming to mind.

---

You slowly followed Harry as he numbly walked down the mountain path, tears burning at his eyes, you mentally sighed as you spotted the other champions waiting at the archway.

“Well? Don’t keep us in suspense.” Gil pushed, not realizing Harry's state of mind “How’d everything go up there on the mountain?”

Harry just shook his head, pressing his lips together, eyes on his feet. “So you didn’t feel anything?” an older teen asked, his fiery red hair hidden under a green cap ” No power at all?”

“no, I’m sorry” Harry finally muttered, swallowing harshly, trying to keep the tears back.

A tall young woman, her wild black hair that matched Harry's, Harriet, walked up to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulder “Then let’s move on. You’ve done all you could. Feeling sorry for yourself won’t be of any help. After all, it’s not like your last shot was up there on Mt. Lanayru. Anything could finally spark the power to seal the dark one away. We just have to keep looking for that…thing” she comforted, smiling slightly as she rubbed his shoulder.

“Thanks, Harriet” he gave her a small smile. Looking at her in the corner of his eye.

“if I may” harry looked to Uma confused, tilting his head. “i’m never sure on how to put this into words, but maybe it could help. But when I use my magic, I usually think about-“

The ground shook, thunder echoed across the plains, harry stumbled back, you ran forward, grabbing onto him and stabilizing him.

Uma turned, her eyes glowing slightly as she created a water vortex and launched up into the sky, gasping as she caught sight of the dark energy erupting from the castle.

“it's here” Harriet muttered gravely, fingers tensing on Harry's shoulders.

“This is it then” Gil hummed, flexing his fists as Uma descended back to the ground.

“Are you sure?” the red-haired teen asked Uma, looking up to the darkening sky.

“positive” Uma growled, anxiety for Harry and the kingdom settling in her bones.

“it's awake” Harry muttered, fear building in his eyes “the dark one!”

Gil's eyes narrowed, turning to the other champions “Let’s stop wasting time! We’re gonna need everything we got to take that thing down! Now we need to get to the beasts! Show that swirling swine who’s boss! (y/n) will need to meet the dark one head-on when we attack! This needs to be a unified assault! (y/n)!” you looked to Gil, a determined spark lighting in your chest “You get to the Castle. You can count on us for support. But it’s up to you to pound the dark one into oblivion!”

Harriet took Harry's arm, beginning to lead him away “come on Harry, let's get you somewhere safe”

“no!” Harry ripped his arm away “I'm not a little kid anymore, I might not have the power but there has to be something I can do!”

Harry turned to you, and you nodded, for once leading the way as the battle for Saorsa began

---

You gasped as the world returned to normal, Harry stumbling back slightly as he also snapped out of whatever that…memory thing was.

“Uma and Gil? They were apart of this?” you muttered, hearing Harry mutter Harriet's name. “maybe we should have-“

“no” harry stopped you “no, if they got caught up in this once before I don’t want them to get caught up in it again, they stay in storybrooke”

You slowly nodded, following harry back as he mounted his horse and started to go back to the village.

“let's go” he muttered.

--end of part 16--

permtaglist

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@sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​

@amorathegamingkitsune​

@random-thoughts-003​ 

rypl taglist

@the-walking-daryl​

@dpaccione​

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@adamsbubblegumbitch​

#descendants #Descendents #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #remember your past life #knight reader #prince harry

[lightwardenau]

Benevolence with a WoL offered for Sacrifice?

me: this’ll be short n sweet!me, 1705 words later: huh

this is less a WoL than a Reader in general but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ what else can ya do when the bug strikes

Benevolence/Reader

Seasons are different when it's eternally day, eternally mild; plants flower all year round, those that prefer the night have long since died, snow is equally unlikely under the blazing sky, and cool breezes only come from the coast.

Still, in the last ten years there's been something of a cycle--curious as it is. By now, everyone knows what it means when the eternally bright sky darkens with clouds, not night--never night--but still a difference, a respite. When thunder that shakes the very foundations of Eulmore and every settlement in Kholusia rolls in and lighting splits the sky, forking out from Mt. Gulg, it's just further confirmation that the balance of power has shifted back.

Innocence has been torn both from his throne and limb from limb yet again by Benevolence, bringing with her the rain and some small amount of shade. Not only that, but when the six-winged creature siezes sovereignty those Sin-Eaters that roam the lands are displaced to the Empty, or at the very least the few that remain are more passive, attacking only when provoked. The people have learnt to hold on tight to whatever modicum of peace they can, and this, however, spurs a new course of action to the fore in the hopes of prolonging it. Those who remember a time when they curried favour with the Sin-Eaters can't help but lean into the old ways of thought when they fret over the length of her stay before she vanishes again, and so the plan to gift the Lightwarden one of the city's number germinates.

You're chosen for the honour for a reason, though what reason is a stab in the dark on your leader's part. No-one knows what Benevolence is like, aside from the forces of nature that come with her presence to give her her name. Perhaps you sing, perhaps you dance, perhaps you paint, perhaps you write, or perhaps you're simply beautiful--regardless, they hope she likes you and in liking you will stay longer--keep Innocence from returning to exert his spoilt will from on high again. They don't tell you of the thought in the back of their minds: that you go to die. To be consumed. That you'll be the first in a long line of people just like you, fed the the Lightwarden in exchange for protection. You're hardly a fool, however. You wouldn't change your mind even if they had told you such up front--you've a desire to see the people you love safe, regardless if the cost is your freedom or your life.

And so you're draped in white silks, gold jewellery hung on your wrists, around your neck, your ankles--bare feet and aside from the drapery, bare skin. Your last meal is taken in Eulmore, in opulence, and you're allowed whatever you desire in thanks for your bravery--you take advantage of this as much as you can, but nerves will only allow you to eat so much before you excuse yourself to stare at the mountain that looms in the sky from a balcony and wonder just what exactly the creature you're to be offered to is like.

Terrifying, most likely. Especially if she can rend Innocence to shreds.

 ---

 You're deposited as far up the arm of the Talos as your escorts can take you without fear rendering them completely useless, and not for the first time you're made aware of just how impractical the white finery you're wrapped with is for climbing rock, especially in bare feet, especially in the rain--no matter how warm it is. Still, you haven't especially far to go, the others turned tail only a short while ago and already you're at the boundary line where the rain stops falling and granite becomes marble, searing white as the sky is usually. You almost have to avert your eyes before they acclimatise and instead cast your gaze around for...whatever it is you're meant to be doing next before you hear it.

Across the winding floorplan of this place there's a staircase shrouded by a gold archway, and beyond it you think you hear...sobbing?

With little else to go on and a distinct lack of Sin-Eaters present to put any further fear into you, you make your way toward the sound. It takes a little while--this place is clearly built for those with far greater stride lengths than you--but you pick your way across cool, dry marble for long enough that you're simply 'damp' and less 'soaked' by the time you reach the foot of the (blessedly normal-sized) staircase and begin to climb.

The creature you find yourself staring at the back of is larger than any Sin-Eater you've ever seen--you hazard at full height she's thirteen feet tall or thereabouts and with six white, feathered wings protruding from her back, which is toward you. She seems to be sat kneeling in a position that gives you space to roam your gaze over yalms of bare, smooth, dark skin from her spine down even as you feel the power of the light roll off her in waves. Facing away from the rest of Mt. Gulg as she is, with her head in both hands, the cries that emit from her seem somehow both heartwrenching and musical as her chest heaves with grief for something you don't know, her emotions intense enough to choke you up. Moving quietly, skin on stone, you look at her from the front--a decision  immediately regretted since her sobs halt abruptly the moment you're directly ahead of her. From this angle you can see the liquid gold of her tears overflowing between clawed fingers, and distantly you realise that with the silenced sobbing also comes silenced rain beyond Gulg.

Her hands fall away from her face sharply and you note the scar that runs though her right eyebrow, down across the acute corner of her closed eye, and ends somewhere around a sharp cheekbone. She studies you as you study her and you don't know how you can tell with her eyes firmly shut, but you know she's looking at you. Suddenly you remember exactly why you're there--so caught up were you in the mystery of this place and the Lightwarden within. 

"H--Hello." You start, for lack of anything better to say. Mercifully, she spares you further fumbling, canting her head to one side, snow white and curled hair bouncing lightly as she does so.

"What reason have you to be here?" Benevolence asks, and her voice vibrates through you in a way that weakens your knees. Her tone is an octave lower than you were expecting, her cadence measured in the manner of someone that weighs every single word before speaking, and behind it all is the chime-like sound of clear crystals against one another. It is, in a word, 'Angelic'.

"I…" You pause, wondering how best to frame this as the reality of your situation sinks in. You may die here, or you may not, and you have no idea which is worse. "I'm an offering." You steel yourself, "Or a sacrifice."

The creature regards you further for a moment before standing to her full height and towering above you in a manner that gives you an eyeful of the expanse of her bare skin, 'staring' down for a beat longer before facing the direction you know Eulmore to be in. A large, full lip curls in what you pin as a sneer as her wings shake out a little. The term 'ruffled feathers' comes to mind.

"Is that what He demanded?" The loathing that colours her voice is a surprise, but in some ways a welcome one--the enemy of my enemy and all that. You hasten to correct her.

"No!" You half-yelp, hoping she's not about to turn her ire on either Eulmore or yourself and wanting to head such a trolley of thought off at the pass. Benevolence faces you once more, frowning slightly and you take it as your cue. "We wished to thank you! For breaking the stranglehold--Innocence's tyranny. We--"

"--You wish me to stay, and take his place forever." She finishes for you and you nod once in answer after a moment's hesitation. There's another pause as she muses and you find yourself almost wishing she talked half as much as Innocence did--at least then you might have an idea of what was going through her head.

"If I'm not to your tastes, there will be others." You offer, even as you hope to be made a liar. Let this start and end with you, you hope. Benevolence continues to silently observe before she sighs, heavy and weary with a weight you feel settle leaden in your chest simply by hearing it.

"Innocence is a worm that shall always be churned back up out of the aetherial loam, sweet one." She intones, although she sounds as dissatisfied as you feel, "He is as endless as I am, no amount of...offerings will change this. I fight him because he believes he has a claim to this throne, I leave because to stay would rip this place apart when he returns. The cycle is the cycle, regardless."

"I--" Whatever you were to say dies in your throat as you tear your gaze from her closed eyelids and stare down at your hands, fingers knotting as you process this. There's no point to what you've done, Innocence shall always come back and she will always leave, and now you're stood vulnerable and alone in front of a Lightwarden with no way back. This whole thing has been an exercise in futility and you'll never be able to warn the others.

So wrapped up in these thoughts are you that you barely notice the large hand held out to you until its right in front of your face. You look back up at the Lightwarden, confusion clear as she smiles down to you, soft and with a warmth you feel in your bones, like basking in the sun.

"No need for an offering, nor a sacrifice." Benevolence's eyes open, and for the first time you bear witness to her unearthly gaze, eyes of solid gold peering down with a kindness that matches the name. "But a companion, perchance?"

#benevolence #fic #mod chai #anonymous

[motleystitches]

Guardian 鎮魂 translation: Chapter 86 (excerpt), 87 (full)

...featuring a small history between a young Ghoul King and a gentle God of Mountains. 

Previous translations (a little revised since posting as I think of better words):

Chapter 10 excerpt: like a peacock with his feathers spread out, using this time to display a pheromonal and patterned tail (all Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan bits)

Chapter 49: with love the living may die and the dead can live. only when love is not enough, the living cannot be with the dead and dead cannot live. 

Chapter 66: I’m taking you home

Chapter 86 excerpt and Chapter 87 ghouls are not alive, but in that instant, it was as if he heard his own non-existent heartbeat

In the next moment, time reversed, and a bewildered Zhao Yunlan was returned to a past not from too long ago. In that instant, overwhelmed by the disturbances in the timeline, he couldn’t distinguish whether he was Lord Kunlun or a man from five thousand years later.

He thought he had been guarding the pitch dark Great Seal everyday, sitting with his back against the rock, and when bored, staring dumbly at the Tree of Virtues, oftentimes for an entire day.

Then later, at some unknown point in time, a handsome but odd youth would be next to him all day, like a little tail, following him everywhere. 

At first Lord Kunlun ignored him, then finally he couldn’t help asking, “We’re now in your territory, why still follow me?”

The youth said, astonished, “I like you.”

Lord Kunlun had been called absurd and rude, finally he had an opportunity to say it to someone else, so he took the chance and rather ungently “scolded” him. “Rude.”

The young ghoul king looked at him, confused, uncertain how he was rude.

Lord Kunlun had been guarding that seal for innumerable years, he was bored, so he continued to ask. “What do you like about me?”

The young ghoul king was like a blank sheet of paper, unreserved about his own desires. He said plainly, “Good looking. Want to hug you.”

Kunlord couldn’t help taking another look at this bold young ghoul king. He wasn’t offended and thought it interesting. “Not even a bit of pursuit. I despise you,” he teased. 

Though the young ghoul king wasn’t sure why he was despised, he thought everything Kunlun said had reason, so he lowered his head in shame.

Lord Kunlun waved him over. “Come, let me get some education into your backward little head.”

Chapter 87:

Once the primordial order had been established, the Elder God Shennong-Shi came to earth, tasted every kind of flora to save humanity, and transformed himself into an old herbalist, proselytizing and enlightening men. Lord Kunlun had heard those lectures a few times as one of the crowd and was basically following the same syllabus for the young ghoul king. He was not thorough about the actual contents but it was a way to pass the time. However, it did confuse the young ghoul king. He didn’t miss a single word and considered whatever rubbish Kunlun spouted some sort of prescription.

With time, even in that land of purgation and in front of the bleak entrance, a kind of affinity grew between them. 

The young ghoul king’s feelings toward Lord Kunlun remain unchanged, but he naturally knew shame. He had listened to Kunlun and knew that it wasn’t right to keep insisting on them, so he stopped, and tried a new thing every day to please him. 

It was a pity no matter what he thought of, there was a limit to what he could do. There was nothing fun in the Profane Place. No grass grew on the thousand miles of scorched earth. The normal pass time was to take two low level hell-creatures and watch them fight until one eats the other.

But the young ghoul king didn’t like this, and of course Lord Kunlun would like it even less.

So the ghoul king assiduously collected the incisors from thirty-six hell-creatures, thinking they symbolized Mt. Kunlun’s magnificent thirty-six valleys. He twined a few of his hair into a rope, threaded everything together into a challenging but unique necklace, and gave it to Lord Kunlun.

But the expression from Lord Kunlun when he received the thirty-six incisors was strange, stranger than the necklace itself, as if he had a toothache but was forcing his features into bizarre smile, and he said his thanks through gritted teeth.

The young ghoul king came to a conclusion, He thought perhaps Kunlun didn’t like it-- anyways Lord Kunlun never wore it, and every time it was mentioned, he would always go onto another topic.

But he couldn’t think of anything else. One day the youth sat on a raised root of the Tree of Virtues and unwittingly remembered the flash of the world he saw outside and said suddenly, “There’s a kind of flower that’s shaped like a bell, it comes in all colors, when you smell it up close, there’s a very faint scent.”

Lord Kunlun tilted his head to look at him. “And?”

The hesitant youth looked longing. “It’s so pretty. If they are made into a necklace, then you’ll like it, right?” 

Lord Kunlun remained silent for a moment, then said, half-smiling, “So that’s why you want to be nice to me. Just so you can get out?”

The young ghoul king seemed surprised and quickly shook his head. 

Lord Kunlun teased him on purpose. “They why? I’m guarding this, it’s for not letting you all out. Not even single one.”

for....the young ghoul king looked at him evenly, meeting Lord Kunlun’s amused glance. He wanted to say something but didn’t know what to say, the urge was wrecking havoc in his chest, but he couldn’t find a way to say it.

He thought those honest words would seem too vulgar and even being vulgar wouldn’t necessarily communicate what he felt. 

The ghoul king couldn’t speak and couldn’t help extending sharp claws from his nails, anxiously showing an ominous and rather aggressive expression.

Legend has it that for those born in the world, other than destiny being unchangeable, most suffering comes form thinking too much and not reading enough. Saints had left behind those books, but those ancient saints, most of them born in chaos where there were no books to read, no one to solve their perplexities, they could only carry their questions about the earth and sky and walk stumblingly along the road. It must’ve been extremely distressing and painful.....so that even for saying heartfelt sentiment to a beloved, there were no suitable words. 

Finally Lord Kunlun laughed. He hooked him gently by the jaw and tenderly kissed the youth’s perfectly smooth forehead before flying on top of a branch.

The young ghoul king sat dumbly for a moment, unaware all the poisonous needles on his body had retracted. He was flushed from cheek to chin. After a moment, he stood up, oblivious to all, as if he was drunk, even his steps were unsteady, and somehow fell off from the giant root of the Tree of Virtues.

The youth belonged to the Tribe of Ghouls-- though somehow he had grown into an oddity of the ghouls-- what he saw around him everyday were only the combinations of low level ghouls driven by desire. He never knew what a kiss was but his first encounter felt like warm steam surrounded him. He felt so light it was like he was flying.

Not even the River Wongchuang could let him feel so relaxed and buoyant.

The young ghoul suddenly turned and ran head-along into the Seal that couldn’t bind him into the Profane Place; he wasn’t seen for an entire decade.

Then next time he appeared in front of Lord Kunlun, he seemed to have grown up some; he had grown taller, almost as tall as Lord Kunlun. The soft lines of youth had hardened but he was still fair as ever. 

He carefully presented a ball of gold scintillating fire in front of Kunlun.

“This is...”

“This is the soul-fire from your left shoulder. It was scattered everywhere inside the Seal. It took me fifty years to collect it.” The ghoul king carefully huddled that ball of warm flame and lingeringly rubbed against the side of his face before saying, “Returning it.”

The smile at the corner of Lord Kunlun’s mouth gradually disappeared. After a while, he looked at the other and asked, “And what do you want from me?”

“That...” The ghoul king’s was stuck for a bit, as if he didn’t know what to say. After a long while, he shyly pointed at his own forehead. “That....can you do it again?” 

Lord Kunlun considered him a long time. So long that the youth became restless and anxious, but Lord Kunlun suddenly reached out and held his jaw. This time, he tenderly kissed the youth’s lips and gently held the ghoul king’s hand, letting his shapely fingers clench tight that ever shining soul fire. 

Lord Kunlun seemed to be distracted, but also deeply contemplative. After a while, he sighed and said, “I have all the great mountains and lakes of the world, but now I think about it, it’s just a bunch of crumbled stones and wild waters. In all I have about me, probably only my heart’s affection is worth something. You want it? Take it.”

The young ghoul king had a revelation. Now he knew what he deeply desired but couldn’t articulate was called “heart’s affection”. Just two words, but they were enough to devastate a life. 

Ghouls are not alive, but in that flash of time, it was as if he heard his own non-existent heartbeat.　　

“And this. If you like it, then keep it.” Lord Kunlun patted the back of his hand. “My blood has become its filament, my body its base, only my soul’s spirit remains guard here and there’s no point in having it back. That sinew I gave you last time. Do you still have it?”　

The youth nodded quickly.

“Take it out and let me see,” Kunlun said mildly.

The ghoul king ripped opened his wildman’s clothes and took the sinew out from somewhere close to him. 

“I emerged of the Kunlun mountain. And at an earlier age, could be traced to Pangu’s Axe.” Lord Kunlun gently touched the body part he had ripped from himself, as if he had forgotten that kind of excruciating pain. He said evenly, “My body is connected with the earth’s pulse through Heavenly Pillar of Kunlun. A single tremor and the world turns upside down.”

In speaking, he suddenly made a series of complicated signs with his hand and the sinew transformed into a beam of bright light that followed his finger and entered the ghoul king’s forehead. At that moment, the youth felt he heard the sounds of the world transforming as ten thousand mountains rose into the sky.

It was as if he had reached an indescribable summit with a view of everything below. He could clearly see every mountain stream, flowing continuously, glorious and turbulent.

Lord Kunlun’s voice was within them, neither loud nor forceful, but penetrating all. “From now on the ten thousand mountains heed your command. Though you cannot be rift of your ghoulish heritage, you are now at least half divine and half ghoul. From now you are free to travel through all three realms. I no longer care.”

The youth interrupted, “I’m not going!” After a moment, he added, hesitant, “You’re here. I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

“I can’t be here long,” Kunlun said, turning his head, looking up at the endless towering waterfall of Wongchuang. “I’m just one part of the whole being. I can’t leave and I couldn’t have stayed long. Lately, I feel my days are coming to a close.”

The youthful ghoul king asked worriedly, “What days? Where are you going?”

“Not going anywhere. I’m going to die,” Kunlun said peacefully.

“That’s impossible. How can a god die?”

“Even gods die. Pangu, Fushi, Nuwa, Shennong, aren’t they all dead?” Kunlun said. “Now it’s my turn.”

Hearing this, the youthful ghoul king was struck dumb for a moment, then his expression quickly turned terrible. “If there’s no Great Seal, if you hadn’t sealed the Four Hallows for Nuwa, if you hadn’t turned into the Lamp of Souls’ Guard, does that mean you don’t have to die? Then I’ll chop down this tree and break through this damned Seal!”

Sometimes the young king was like a rolly-polly wolf pup with fluffy fur that looked like a puppy and seemed to share the same habits. Pet him and he would obediently roll on the floor and expose his belly, but he still had sharp teeth in his jaws. A bit of carelessness and his bite would draw blood. 

Lord Kunlun was already used to it and didn’t mind. He lifted his hand and put it on his head, saying in a low voice, “Not die? To live forever...child, even though a hollow rock will not decay, it’s still a rock. Do you understand? Shennong had said that there’s no divinity without death and destruction. I always thought he was speaking nonsense. It’s not until now I understand a little.”

The ghoul king slapped away his hand, unwilling to understand what he understood. “Don’t you dare!”

Lord Kunlun opened his hand. His hand suddenly seemed a little transparent. Then enraged youth, shocked, grabbed and squeezed that hand, nervously turning it over in his palm as if this was the only way to be sure that he was still here. He insisted, “What if I chopped down the Tree of Virtues?”

Lord Kunlun chuckled. “You’ve inherited the sovereign rights of the god of the mountains, you can even cut down the sacred wood in the Profane Place where the gods avoid, what’s the Tree of Virtues compared to that?”　

The ghoul king continued, “Then I can cleave open the Great Seal, split the rotten rock that woman left behind.”

Kunlun smiled wryly. ”You can, but I will probably die sooner.”

“I can even,” Ghoul King’s paused, then continued malevolently, “I can even kill everyone in the world. I can slaughter every living thing, so the mountains will never turn green, waters never flow, corpses cover the earth, and no man lives for a thousand miles.”

Lord Kunlun lifted an eyebrow, nonplussed. “Oh really, so powerful?”

The ghoul king squeezed his hand. “Don’t you dare die. I can do anything. I will do anything!”

“Shennong-Shi was also right about one thing,” Lord Kunlun became stern, looking at him coldly. ”I should’ve killed you long ago to prevent a catastrophe.”

The youth stubbornly pursed his lips and glared at him.

But suddenly Lord Kunlun smiled, as gentle as the passing of winter, the first breaking of the ice, reflecting green flowing water. “Since Shennong-Shi borrowed the soul fire from my shoulder...No, since the war between Gods and Monsters, Nuwa’s making of man, even since Pangu opened the sky, these things have been destined. It is destined that I, at this moment, in this place, die. Even if you re-close earth and sky, it will just mean my death will be meaningless, but it won’t stop anything.”

“You don’t understand.” The handsome god of the mountains used a rare patient and gentle voice. “What is called fate is not what the gods mutter as the doom of all. Actually there’s nothing secretly binding you. It’s that at a certain moment, though you know there are innumerable choices, the sky and the world before you, you’ll always choose one particular path....I didn’t know these things when I was young either. But perhaps you’ll understand when you grow up more.”

Finally the youthful ghoul king had no answer. For the first time he realised his own helplessness. All his powers are to kill, destroy, and to devour. He could really cut through everything in the world, the living, the dead; his birth had been a miracle, an unleashed terror for both ghouls and gods, but what’s the use？

He still couldn’t make the one he liked most stay. 　

Lord Kunlun saw the murderous youth in front of him become more and more depressed. Since he had not yet learned how to hide or repress his emotions, after a moment appearing dazed, he suddenly wailed aloud and started crying. 

Lord Quinlun looked at him almost pityingly and rued he wouldn’t be able to see a young beauty become a great beauty.

Then five thousand years passed in the flash of an eye, seasons turned and things and people changed. 

Zhao Yunlan released the rock of the Great Seal as if he had been shocked, suddenly there was someone behind him. That person chuckled. Before Zhao Yunlan turned, he had already the Whip of Souls’ Guard in hand. He took two steps backward. With his back against the rock of the Great Seal he watched warily Ghoulmien ten steps away.

Ghoulmien considered him, shook his head slightly. His fake ghoulish mien showed a smile. “I hear all of Nuwa’s memory is inside. What did you end up seeing?”

Zhao Yunlan laughed coldly, not quite emotionally recovered. “Why the f*ck would I tell you?” he asked harshly.

Ghoulmien sauntered in front of him and mimicked him to reach out and touch the Great Seal Stone. “Five thousand years ago, we were twin-born ghoul-kings, but it was him who earned your liking, Lord Kunlun. Five thousand years later, one of us is inside, one’s outside, one sits in jail, the other is the jailer.”

The corner of Ghoulmien’s uplifted mouth dropped. Then he turned, lowered his voice, and said each word deliberately, “But the Great Seal is no more, that’s why I can enter and leave at will-- at the end, everything dies. You, Lord Kunlun, if not if my foolish brother ambushed you and imprisoned your soul’s spirit and forced you into cycle of reincarnations as a a mere mortal, you would’ve have disappeared like the other elder gods. Was Shennong a fool? Everything that’s forced in the world cannot last. Whatever lasts can only die.”

In saying, he extended a cold finger and lightly touched Zhao Yunlan’s cheek, then sighed as if he was groaning. “But Death itself had been lit by your soul fire and created us..things..neither living nor dead. Isn’t this cosmic irony?”

Zhao Yunlan frowned and bent his head slightly, avoiding the touch. What did happen with his soul fire? So far he had heard quite a number of versions. It’s impossible to know which’s real. 

So he asked. “Didn’t Shennong borrow my soul fire? Why would it appear in the Profane Place. And why do you say Death itself was set alight by me?”

Ghoulmien started, his fake mask was momentarily blank, as if he couldn’t understand what Zhao Yunlan was asking. Suddenly, he roared in laughter. “Hahahaha. I thought he was so innocent, acting the saint, and yet...”

His words stopped abruptly because the Wraith-cleaving blade was cutting down, the wind from the motion lethal enough to cut him in half. Ghoulmien flew aside to avoid it and even Zhao Yulan had to take a step back.

Zhao Yunlan: “Shen Wei?”

Shen Wei reached out to catch him. “You must be crazy to come here alone!”

But before he reached Zhao Yunlun, Ghoulmien suddenly appeared and caught Shen Wei’s elbow, transformed into a mass of black smoke, and crashed hard into Zhao Yunlan which immobilized the long whip in his hand.

Then Ghoulmien transformed into countless furls of black smoke, wrapping Zhao Yunlun from head to foot, all the while laughing loudly.

But in the next moment, his laughter suddenly stopped. The black smoke cleared and resolved into Ghoulmien. There was no one else. 

Ghoulmien paused, seemingly also confused. He growled, “Who took him?Who?”

-=-=

Notes:

I actually read “No-Place” in my head for literal translation “Land of Disrespect” but thought that was taking too much obscure liberty with the translation, so the Profane Place it is, as an opposition to respect/sacred things. “Land of the Profane” is too much. “Land of Profanity” is too hilarious. 

Literal for 真心: “true heart” or “true-hearted” for sincerity of affection. Perhaps “heart’s truth” would work as well....I’m kind of torn. I have “heart’s affection” because it’s usually used directed toward someone else. 

It’s Lord Kunlun or Kunlun depending on whether original text kept the honorific. I didn’t capitalize the ghoul king because I want to keep the idea that the text seems to refer to the ghoul king as a “type* rather than an individual, hence all the “young” when he was a child “youthful” when he’s grown up, directly translating from the text.

Lamp of Souls’ Guard and Whip of Souls’ Guard is chosen because of “Guardian” and also because it’s more euphonic than some other choices.

Ghoulmien (Ghoul-mien) actually transliterates almost perfectly into 鬼面 in both sound and meaning. Linguistic coincidences :DDD

That flashback lollipop scene is actually probably more NSFW than this time travel flashback. Kudos to Everyone. 

#Guardian 鎮魂 #shen wei #zhao yunlan #translation #i'm going to write a fic soon #ask me anything #this took about as long as writing #will translate specific requests #random edits over the day

[randomly-random-jen]

Heaven Can’t Wait - Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven - Confused and Conflicted

One of the girls that works in the mess hall passes out candles. Bellamy’s is in a little tin cup. Clarke and Niylah share one which means they’re going to be together after lunch. Probably going back to Clarke’s quarters.

When Clarke reaches for Niylah’s hand, he can’t take it anymore. He knows he’s being a jealous, petty ass, but it’s been a crappy couple of days, and after everything, he can’t watch the two of them together no matter how platonic their relationship might be.

“I’ve got some work to do,” he mumbles as he collects Heaven, Bae, and the scraps of food.

Clarke starts at his sudden movement. Niylah gives him a thoughtful look as usual. Her hand slips from Clarke’s—a lot more naturally than when Bellamy attempted the same thing minutes ago. She knows. Goddamnit, she knows. How does everyone know except Clarke?

Maybe if you quit being an idiot and tell her.

Shut up.

“Bellamy-” Clarke says softly, tearing at his heart. But she doesn’t say anything else so he leaves. Like an idiot.

She probably does know. You’re not exactly good at hiding your feelings, especially for Clarke.

Then why doesn’t she say anything?

Because you don’t talk about it.

But why does it have to be me that starts it?

The thoughts spin in his head, adding to his ever-present headache. Why does everything have to be so hard?

“Bellamy, wait,” Niylah calls, catching up to him. She doesn’t have a candle. “I need to talk to you.”

“What about?” he asks in what he hopes is a neutral tone.

Niylah looks back at the mess hall. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Clarke, but-”

He tenses. “Something did happen to you.”

“Nothing serious—just several people near my quarters that yell obscenities. Some graffiti. Then yesterday-” She took a deep breath like she was making a decision then pulled up her sleeve. “One of my neighbors didn’t like the way I was looking at him.”

Bellamy sees red. He hates to think any Arkadian could be that cruel, but he knows it’s true and will get worse. “What’s the neighbor’s name?”

Niylah hesitates. “I’d rather not say—I don’t want to cause more trouble; I just thought you should know.”

Now I’ll have to talk to everyone in that hall. To Niylah, he nods. “Thanks for letting me know. If anything else happens-”

“I know.” She smiles at Heaven then returns to Clarke. Bellamy waits until she’s near the weak light coming from the mess hall before he leaves

Nothing is ever easy. At least his excuse to Clarke isn’t a lie anymore—he really does have some work to do.

Thankfully, the guard office is empty. He sets Heaven on one side of the desk, clearing a space for the candle, and rips another page from the old ledger book. He sets it and the marker in front of Heaven.

Heaven’s grin calms his nerves and eases the dread knotting his stomach. He watches her scribble intently for a minute before grabbing the closest tablet. 

“Bae,” Heaven says, holding up the paper.

Bellamy smiles. “It looks just like her.”

Heaven nods like she agrees then gets back to work, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration. She’s adorable. She’s exactly what’s been missing in his life. The thought startles him, and he shoves it away, focusing on the tablet.

He scrolls through the files, looking for the reports from the yard incident. There are seven now including the one he’d typed up when he couldn’t sleep. The others are from Miller and his dad, Cadet Camden, and Harper. Tyson and Olsen also each filed a report. Half of them didn’t see anything, and the other half are full of shit. There is no way those two grounders started something with Henderson with all of those people around. Sure the grounders like to fight, but they’re not stupid.

Of course, the reports he can trust—from the Millers and Harper—didn’t see the fight start but were there when it escalated into a near-riot. The cadet’s account sounds coached so probably useless. Tyson’s and Olsen’s reports are the most interesting. According to them, they saw the Grounder prisoners attack an unsuspecting Henderson. They did their best to control the fight but were outnumbered and attacked themselves.

Bellamy tosses the tablet onto the table. What a bunch of bullshit. Control the fight? Control it so that Henderson had a better chance of beating the Grounders. Outnumbered? Maybe by the Guard trying to stop the riot but there were only two Grounders there. He feels a sick growl building at the back of his throat. He’d wanted to be a guard since he was ten and figured out he could help keep his family safe that way, but this isn’t the Guard he joined six years ago.

Heaven yawns so he sets her on the sofa, tucking his jacket around her. She curls up with Bae, a little smile on her face. And, god, his heart is shattering because this is going to all be over in another day.

Then life can go back to normal.

He wishes he knew what the hell normal was. And why it had to be so miserable.

With a heavy sigh, he drops back into his chair and rubs at his face. The tablet’s harsh light isn’t doing anything for his headache, but he goes over the reports again, noticing one thing missing—statements from the Grounders. He frowns. It’s not surprising considering what happened. There also wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment. He glances at Heaven, already snoring softly.

Could all go back to normal, the voice goads.

His head falls against the metal desk. He bangs it softly a couple times, frustrated.

“Knock, knock,” someone says at the door. Bellamy looks up at David Miller. “I didn’t want to wake her.’

Bellamy looks over at Heaven again. “She’s kind of used to it by now. Did you need something?”

“Oh, no, I just left my jacket earlier.” He points to it hanging behind the desk. Bellamy leans back and snatches it from the hook. He expects David to just leave, but the older man fidgets, twisting the jacket between his hands. “Nathan says Kane’s really been pressuring you about this Commander thing.”

Bellamy makes a face and pretends to go back to reading reports. “He’s crazy.”

“I know you don’t believe it, Bellamy, but there are those of us that support you. You’re exactly what we need here. I know you see the mess things are in. Loyalties are split, morale is low, accountability is almost nonexistent. Kane’s too busy worrying about keeping us all alive.”

“Did he send you over here to sell me on his crazy plan?”

David grins. “No. I wasn’t planning on getting involved-”

“No more than throwing my name into the hat.”

David sits in Heaven’s abandoned chair. “If you want my opinion, I think we need someone younger in charge. Someone that didn’t live by the old rules. Someone that has experience with the Grounders, and not the kind of experience Tyson and his goons have. They don’t see them as people. And I know you have your issues with them-”

“Number one being they all want me dead.”

“But from everything Nate’s told me, you’d never let your personal feelings get in the way of doing your job.”

“Well, I’m not sure where Nate was those first months on the ground because it apparently wasn’t in my camp. We survived because of Clarke, not me. I just made things worse.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Bellamy.”

Bellamy sighs, leaning back. He shoves his hands through his hair. “David, I appreciate the pep talk and your faith, however misguided, but I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this job when the Grounders are plotting to kill me and at least a quarter of the Guard kicked the crap out of me the other day. I can’t do this.”

“What were you doing before I came in here?”

Bellamy takes a moment to answer, blindsided by the sudden change of subject. “I was reading through the reports from the attack.”

“Why? It’s not your job to read reports and investigate crimes. You’re a guard. Barely above a cadet. Do you even have a rank?”

Bellamy crosses his arms irritated. “Your point?”

“You know my point. You have to take care of everything and everyone yourself, and you would hate yourself if something happened that you can prevent. What you did with those kids—keeping them alive, getting them out of Mt. Weather—isn’t something to scoff at. A bunch of juvenile delinquents with authority issues. But you did it because you couldn’t not do it.” He stands, slipping on his jacket. “Maybe it’s time you have a little faith in yourself.”

Just as David gets to the door, the lights pop back on, nearly blinding them. David grins. “A sign?”

David leaves Bellamy feeling even more confused and conflicted. He’s crazy. Just as crazy as Kane.

But what if they’re not?

Bellamy shakes his head. They are. End of story.

Chapter 36 | chapters | Chapter 38

#the 100 fanfic #heaven can't wait #bellamy blake #david miller #niylah #have a little faith in yourself bellamy

[simplyyeol]

broken | i

genre: slice of life! AU, angst, fluff

pairing: park chanyeol x reader

word count: 3.5k

author’s note: dfskfhhfhsfh, I rewrote broken because I felt like I didn’t do my man enough good. There will be a part 2 of this so I hope you enjoy. Please do comment about what you think will happen or what you think I could do better! I love reading all of your feedback! Thank you :))

Your gentle footsteps were the only thing that echoed throughout the empty hallway as you made your way to God knows where. Well you knew where, anywhere but the empty and lifeless room that you were always locked up in. The incessant beeping from the machines surrounding you, drove you crazy and the steady dripping of the IV made you want to rip your hair out.

You had barely escaped when the nurse that usually came to monitor you had left for whatever emergency reason. It wouldn’t be long before you were noticed to be gone and taken back. However, you knew that this was a priceless moment, and you should treasure it as if it was gold. You should treasure it with your life because that means that maybe you can actually live your own.

You wanted to be able to escape this prison at least once, you wanted to at least live your life once. It was if you were a prisoner locked up behind bars, and yet you had done nothing wrong. You were not guilty, but you were still the accused. You had been here for most of your life and you wanted out. You wanted to escape from this hell that was your life. You wanted to escape and finally live the live that you never had. You wanted to do what everyone else did, what normal people did. There were so many things that you had never done that you wished to do.

You never had a childhood that everyone else at school talked about when you sat down at your usual table for lunch. You had never gone to your friend’s birthday party and eat cake until your stomach was about to burst. You had never broken your arm and cried for your mom. You had never learned to ride a bike on the streets of your neighborhood with your parents right behind you, making sure you were safe and screaming words of encouragement to get you going. You never had family game nights where laughter and happiness filled the air. You had never had a big Thanksgiving dinner where you saw your aunt’s neighbor’s boyfriend’s friend’s cousin’s niece’s best friend. You never got to go Black Friday shopping with your mother and had to regret it the next day after you came home with worn out feet. You had never done anything that a normal kid had done.

Why? Because apparently you weren’t a normal kid. Everyone around you had acted as if you were a fragile diamond, that if touched, would be shattered into thousands of tiny pieces, too small to even be picked up and glued back together. You were a someone that was different, not normal, and could never have a normal life. Just because of one thing. You didn’t even like mentioning it because even though you acknowledged it and knew it was the truth, the weight would come knocking you down even harder if you said it loud, because then, and only then, would be the time that you would have to accept the fact. The fact that you are going to die, and you didn’t have much time left.

You guessed that no one normal would know the real pain of being terminally ill. At least no one around you. Not many people knew the actual pain that you did. No one could connect with you, no one would be able to empathize with your once-in-a-lifetime situation.

With billions of other people in the world and statistics showing tens of thousands of people with the same illness as you, you had yet to cross amongst someone like yourself. Someone who was closed off from the world by their parents to be ‘protect from the harsh world,’ when the reality was that they were never protecting you, just making sure that you could never see the good in this world. Because then you would start to get greedy and ask for things that could never be obtained by someone like you. Not only was your physical health getting worse, but your mental health, from all the things you never experienced as a child, as a teenager, as a young adult, as a human.

The ever knowing fact that you were going to die in a few months had never helped your mental health as well. Oh how you wished all your problems would go away. Holed up in the mental ward and having multiple doctors and nurses swarm over you like bees in honey whenever one little thing goes wrong was too much. Having to be monitored over every little thing that occurs in your small and blank room when nothing ever really happened

It made you want to throw yourself of a cliff and scream from joy after finally being able to be free. Of finally being able to escape from this place. It made you want to throw a knife into every single one of their hearts, if that’s what it meant for them to stop treating you as someone different, as someone broken. You would do anything for everyone to stop looking at you with that look. They were all the same. None of them looked at you like an actual human being. None of them looked at you with actual emotions from the bottom of their heart. None of them looked at you as an equal, but instead you were a person lower then them. You were someone that they would pay no mind, only acting as if they cared, when in reality, they didn’t give a shit.

You looked at your barren feet as with each step they took, they made a small padding sound against the cold tile floor.

You wished that you could be as loud as just only your footsteps. Even if they were in small amount, they were still audible. People could still hear them. Unlike you. No one ever heard you, but then again, that is also partly your fault. You couldn’t only blame everyone around you for the way your living your life. It wasn’t only them, it was you also.

You weren’t a very extroverted person as a whole. Sure, when you got closer to someone, you became more comfortable with them and you could talk with them for hours on end. But you never could feel that connection that other people do. When you first meet a person, do you immediately think that that person is your best friend? Do most people just another person based on their looks? Their clothing? Their style? From what you have seen, this is true.

Society always said to never judge a book by its cover when in reality, that is human nature. That is just how we as humans behave. When we see a person, we immediately judge them, criticize them, and look at them a different way if they are a ‘type’ of person they wouldn’t like.

So when people saw you, they would think that you were some ill patient and that they should just feel sorry for whoever had to take care of you, they should feel pity for you because you weren’t normal. They should feel pity for you because you were sick. And all this time you never said anything about it. You never criticized them back, saying that their sense of fashion was horrible or if their shoes were fake. And that was a mistake.

Your life was the outcome of both you and the people around you’s fault. You couldn’t put the blame on just one person when in reality it took more then one head to actually do something, to actually make an impact, whether it be good or bad.

It was your own introverted self’s fault for not speaking up for yourself in the times when you needed it. It was your own fault when people judged you and walked away while you let them. You let them get away because of your cowardly thoughts. Because you were scared that they would put you in some place worse then the barren white walls surrounding you. This was the part that you mistook.

There couldn’t possibly be a place that is worse then here. There couldn’t possibly be a place like this, unless it was hell itself. A place where no good memories can occur. A place where you are trapped. A place where there is a ticking bomb right next to you, counting down the days until You day. A place where the only thing people wish for is one more day of life. A place where death is the norm.

Wouldn’t it be better for the universe to just let you die already? Haven’t they put you through enough misery for one person’s lifetime? You always wondered why the universe put you through this hell? Would you be rewarded in the next life? Could you have done many sins in your past life? Had one of your ancestors done an unforgiving deed saying that one of their predecessors would compensate? What did you do, to make you deserve a life like this?

What did you do, that made you different from everyone else? What did you do, to make yourself into someone so horrible? What did you do, to make your life torture, when all you wanted was a life filled with bliss and happiness? What did you do to make you deserve all of this?

You wanted to climb to the top of Mt. Everest and scream in the loudest voice possible, all your miseries, all your insecurities, all the people that had wronged you, all the things that went wrong in your life. Everything that occured that you wished you could change. Everything that had happened that you wished had never token place during your life. And finally, when everything had been lifted off your chest, and you could finally feel free, and for once in your lifetime, not have a single worry in the world, that would be when you took that glorious leap of faith, and finally spread your wings and fly.

Maybe you should take matters into your own, small and undeserving hands. Maybe you should actually take that leap of faith into a better world and hope for the best. Maybe then you could join the rest of your loved ones instead of suffering in this cruel, cruel world.

You were undeserving of this life, but maybe your next could turn out better. That is, if the superiors believed that they had tortured you enough. With everything that had been going on, you could probably be going directly to the Devil for the past sins that you have done, if you had done any at all that is, if this was all really your fault.

The world is a cruel place to live in. They could’ve just been doing that to play with you. As if you were their puppet to play with. As if your misery brought them happiness, brought them joy, brought them entertainment.

The mere thought of this made you fume. Who do they think they are? How high in power were they, for them to be doing this to you for this long and how did they have not even a shred of humanity in them? If they really made us, why torture some and give the rest a newly built playground for them to enjoy? Why discriminate some and favor others? What did those people have that we didn’t? What was so much better about them, that we were thrown to the side and stomped all over in return?

You just couldn’t wrap your mind around a reason, a reason as to why? It just didn’t make sense, why was your life like this? But then again, maybe it’s just because. Just because.

Your plain hospital gown brushed the sides of your thighs as you made your way down the hallway to Neverland. You let out a sigh of relief. You’ve gotten this far, maybe you could even get out of this hellhole. But you knew that you would eventually have to come back. If you didn’t, you could say goodbye to your life. But then again, that didn’t sound too bad.

However when you think it over, it didn’t sound like a good way to send yourself off. You would basically be torturing yourself to death. Suffocating yourself until you stop breathing, until your death. You would rather it be your own choice rather then not. You would rather it be over in a second then for it take it’s time. You didn’t want to torture yourself any longer. You’ve had enough of playing someone else’s games for a lifetime. You’ve had enough of that forever.

Your moments with only you and your thoughts had finally came to an end when a, let’s say, minor accident, occurred.

Both you and another person had collided into each other, sending you both tumbling to the floor and you wondering why can’t you ever pay attention to anything. Everywhere you went, you fell, you tripped, you stumbled, it made you seem even more pitiful. Why can’t you ever watch where your going?

A groan made its way out of your mouth as pain erupted through your left side. It felt as if you’ve been stabbed with a knife and then plowed over by a truck. Yes, it really did hurt that bad. Your head felt dizzy from the pain, but you endured it. This was nothing compared to all the shit you’ve been through before.

You clenched your teeth and shifted a little so your left side was not in contact with the cool floor. That side had had a surgery done on it a mere few weeks ago which resulted in throbbing type of pain when you weren’t even doing anything. It still hadn’t healed and you were sure that a few stitches might’ve reopened from your fall. You were about to accuse the person who made this happen to you, but immediately closed your mouth as another shot of pain made its way through your side.

You felt a hand on your shoulder for comfort and heard a muffled voice trying to talk to you while shaking you in attempt for you to stay conscious. You heard a few words and made out what he said, something along the lines of ‘are you okay?’

You might as well make them not worry. The last thing you needed for them to do was call a nurse after panicking. Without opening your eyes, you gave a small nod from the direction you heard the voice come from and attempted to get up from the ice cold of the floor that sent shivers up your spine, hoping that they had heard your unspoken message. 

The lights above you blinded your sight and hindered your attempt. When you finally managed to crack your eyes open,  you caught a quick glimpse of the person kneeling in front of you with worry etched all over his face.

Your eyes widened when he scrambled up to his full height, and turned around searching for something, no someone, a nurse. You realized this as he was about to leave and made to tug on his hand with as much force as you could muster in your pained state.

If the nurses came to you because he called them, you would never be able to forgive him and your own self. This was the one chance you had to get a precious breath of air and it would all be taken away if even a peep came out of his mouth and attracted the attention of the staff who would be around. Your goal to get out of this damn hospital would be demolished in your heart, your mind your soul. You needed this, so you could pick up the courage to come back and face this misery all over again. You knew that you were slowly losing your mentality from being trapped from here, but a little time away wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was the best thing you could do for yourself and everyone else. You didn’t know exactly what you would do when you got out or where you would go, but it was obvious that it would be fine, as long as it was anywhere but here.

When you had caught his attention, you softly shook your head side to side, silently saying one thing, no. You didn’t want anymore of this. You didn’t want to deal with your life anymore. You didn’t want to go around carrying your burdens and showing them to the world. You didn’t want to bring anyone down with you. You didn’t want to struggle anymore. You just didn’t want to live. There was no point.

You tugged at his limp arms signaling for him to come down next to you. He questionably complied and knelt down on the stone cold floor next to you. You might as well tell one person where you were going, what you were going to do, you could maybe even ask him to help you, even if it would be in a little amount as you would be leaving anyway. You brought your face closer to his ear before whispering,

“Will you help me say goodbye?”

You retracted your body away from him and finally got a good look at whoever would hopefully get you out of here. You took in his face and realized that this man was beautiful. You shrank in comparison to this angel-like human being. He looked about your age with wide and bright eyes with irises that looked as warm as coffee on a Monday morning. Skin that was so smooth that you would love being able to draw random shapes along them for hours straight. Face so proportionate that it looked like it was taken straight out of your favorite comic book. Hair that looked so soft, you would want to run your fingers through it any time you had the chance. And his lips, his lips were a bright cherry pink that you would love to feel on your very own.

You quickly averted your eyes when you finally realized that you had been staring at him for a while now. You felt your cheeks burn up, and went to get up from your laying position on the floor.

The man looked shocked from what had happened and now you felt bad. Felt bad for asking him of this. Felt bad for bringing him into this mess, into your mess. However he quickly regained himself when he saw you move to get up from your previous position on the floor. He helped you with a supporting hand on your back and one on your arm as you got up and leaned against the wall in an attempt to catch your breath from this unexpected fall.

“What do you mean?” The man looked at your small form in question from your previous question. You made a quick glance at him and noticed the confusion written all over him, and sighed.

What made you do that? What made you say that to him? Now you had brought another person into your mess when that is exactly what you had wanted to avoid this whole time. You wanted to slap yourself for even talking to him and noticing him in the first place. You were an asshole for bringing another person into your mess that you called your life. And here you are now admiring his beauty, you didn’t have time for this type of stuff. Why? Because in the end, it didn’t matter. People like that would never want to hang out with someone like you.

In the end, just like old times, you would be left all alone.

“I’m sorry. Just forget what I said, yeah?” You voice was no louder then a whisper, but sill enough for him to hear as you turned around and made to walk towards the exit. Your small and naked feet padded their way down the rest of the hallway before stopping after feeling a hand settle on top of your shoulder. You felt the presence of him behind you as his breathing fanned into your neck and in the shell of your ear.

“You can’t say goodbye just yet.”

His words sent shivers rolling through your body as he retracted his warm hand, taking his weight off your shoulder before turning you around so you were face to face with him. The proximity between the two of you was too close for a first meeting, as you immediately shied away from his piercing gaze.

It felt as if he could read you as a whole just by looking into your eyes. You felt as if you were naked in front of him with everything in front of him to see. All he had to do was read them to know all of your deepest and darkest secrets. All the insecurities that you never wanted to be revealed to anyone. All your memories that left you with nightmares day in and day out. All your scars that you were ashamed of having from your monstrous life. Scars that you wished to forget and flush down the drain.

His eyes bored into your own, reading you like an open book as you wriggled underneath his sharp gaze, the only thing in your mind being escape from his everlasting hold.

“Not when you haven’t experienced the fun in life.” 

His hold on you softened as he pulled you into his warm and comforting embrace. You stiffened not knowing what to make of this situation. Why was he hugging you? A stranger of all people. Why would a stranger want to comfort you, want to give you reasons to live, want to touch you in such an intimate manner?

“Its me, Chanyeol, Y/N.”

A memory erupted inside your head as you recalled a younger version of the man holding you. They had the same eyes, the same nose, the same lips, and you suddenly realized that this uncanny resemblance could not be possible. 

He had put his hand out for you to shake with a crooked smile adorning his lips and said one sentence that had changed your life forever.

“I’m Chanyeol. It’s nice to meet you.”

But that Chanyeol died eight years ago in the same accident that killed your parents.

Who exactly was he?

#exo #exo fanfic #exo imagine #exo angst #pcy #pcy fanfic #pcy imagine #pcy angst #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol fic #park chanyeol fic #exo park chanyeol #exo park chanyeol fanfic #exo park chanyeol fanfiction #exo park chanyeol scenario #exo park chanyeol imagine #exo park chanyeol angst #exo park chanyeol fluff #angst #fluff #kpop #kpop idols #writings #new #i hope you like it #suspense #dun dun dunnn

[onceuponaprime]

That Which Fades

Chapter 15

Titus is gone but he hasn’t caught on to that yet. 

I know its been a while since my last update (2 months rip) but life was kicking my ass and now that my move is done I’m trying to get back into the writing swing.  Only 2 chapters left to go (I’m pretty sure) I know this fic has been all over the place and its really more a series of oneshots than a consistent fic but its a start. It’s helped me grow as a writer for the future and feel confident that I can start and finish something of this length. 

Also I wanted to contribute something for Titus week and this is as close as I’m gonna get. 

Since he left home, battered and broken, he’s learned to flow with the curves life throws him. When he joined Niflheim he accepted the terms, he became Glauca, and he accepted the things that came after. He remembers all the fires, all the deaths, the sound of magitek engines and screaming and Glauca’s power buzzing in his ears. He flows now through a new routine as the days pass him by. The thing that stands out most, he finds, is his time with Cor. What started as a monthly meeting for stress relief has become so frequent Titus finds himself thinking of it almost daily. Their friendly drinks and not so friendly fucking have blended together to the point where Titus isn’t quite sure how to handle it.

Like now, sitting with his back against the headboard, sweat still clinging to his skin as Cor catches his breath beside him, neither of them in any hurry to get away, something that's been happening more often as of late. He knows he shouldn’t linger, knows that it's a dangerous and cruel game he’s playing. But when given the option of a warm embrace and the cold solitude of his own bed he finds himself more often than not choosing the former.

How long is he going to let this last?

“I could go for a drink,” Cor says, and Titus glances over to him as he sits up suddenly. “Interested?” Titus shrugs instead of saying no like he should, and stands to start gathering his clothes.

“Maybe tea,” he finds himself saying as he dresses. “It’s a long walk.”

“Sure, I can do tea.” He flashes a small smile before getting dressed himself and heading to the kitchen ahead of him. A sigh slips past Titus’s lips once he’s alone and he runs a hand through his mussed hair in frustration.

Part of him wants nothing more than to isolate himself and cut this thing apart entirely, but his voice of reason has become weak these past months turning to years. He’d ruined his chances when he’d first accepted the olive branch of drinks now years ago. That one simple kindness, the most human he’d allowed himself to be since Glauca became a part of him, has taken root so deep he’s not sure he can cut it. His body craves the comfort, his very soul the reminder that Titus Drautos was still alive within the shell he’d built around himself.

By the time he pulls himself out of his own thoughts to meet Cor in the kitchen the tea is done, and he accepts the small cup with a grunt of gratitude. He drinks leaning against the counter, intent to leave the moment he’s finished, and Cor makes no comment as he takes his seat at the table.

“You called to that Council meeting tomorrow?”

“No,” Titus replies. “I haven’t been called to a meeting since our last deployment.”

“Hm.” Cor takes a long drink, staring into his cup for a moment before meeting his eyes. “Tell me something, are things getting any better out there?”

“Depends on how you ask.” Titus shrugs because it's the truth, there’s almost no need to lie. “We still win, but we’re taking more losses than volunteers can replace. They’re trying to wear us down, until we can’t push back.”

“So that's a no then.”

“Marshal, I won’t lie to you,” he lies. “Things are bad, but Insomnia won’t fall any time soon, not with the Glaive still kicking and the Wall still standing.”

“You’ve got a way with words, Drautos,” Cor replies humorlessly, but he leans back relaxed, like the response was exactly what he needed to hear.

“Sometimes blunt words are the best tool. If you wanted me to wax poetic you should have asked.”

“You waxing poetic? Hah! I’d pay to see that.”

“The right payment and I’d be more than willing to demonstrate.” He shoots Cor a heated look as he finishes his tea and sets the empty cup on the counter. The man laughs, but the light flush of his cheeks is hard to miss.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Life moves in it's new pattern and Titus lets it. Some days he almost forgets the Empire, captured wholly by the lie that his life has become, being the perfect Captain to the Kingsglaive, and good company to Cor, the days where he feels like his real self. Of course the Citadel remains a place that forever flays his nerves, and any interaction with Regis is enough to sour his mood, but for a time it all feels normal, with inconsistent reminders to the contrary. Such peace of mind can only last for so long however, Titus is very well aware of that.

In the end, the Kingsglaive are right, Niflheim attacks from both sides, and they are given no aide against the split onslaught. The formerly clear skies of Mizar fill with smoke as the ruins of an already decrepit outpost go up in flames. Luche leads the half of the Glaive deployed to Gabrana, and he doubts they’re fairing much better. Things had started falling apart almost the moment they arrived. Daemons swarmed them in broad daylight, somehow sustained beneath the sweltering sun. Magitek he had suspected, but even his knowledge of the Empire drew blank at this sort of power, and combined with the might of the MT units it felt like the halved unit of Glaives were nothing but ants.

It's all starting to crumble, he can feel the looming inevitability of Niflheim’s intervention, the hour of his vengeance close at hand, but there’s too much death. Titus knows indisputably then that the end is nearing, not here just yet, but it's creeping closer by the day, a dark message telling him to get ready, the first sign of the end. All he can smell is death and smoke, can feel it clawing at his memories, old losses along with new jumbling together until he doesn’t care to distinguish them. He calls the retreat, contacts Luche and orders him to do the same, two days of brutal fighting and surviving wasted against impossible odds.

By the time they return to Insomnia Titus feels hollow, spews his lies to his false king about the division causing the loss, makes hollow vows of defense, and leaves still in a haze. He doesn’t remember much, not the king’s words, not what he said to the Glaives or what they said to him, doesn’t remember the drive, all he knows is their losses were staggering and only set to dwindle more. Keep them alive now, kill them later, when Niflheim calls for blood loyal to Lucis, kill them then. His feet carry him and Titus drifts, not caring where he’s going as he wars to keep himself together, his past, present, and future pulling at each other until all Titus hears is noise that's not there.

Suddenly he stops, and he’s torn from his revere to see his destination. It’s not his apartment, but he knows the door all the same. He shouldn’t be here, not like this and never again. He should leave, but his body refuses, his mind is tired and his chest suddenly aches. Arriving unannounced in the middle of the night was hardly the worst thing he’d ever done. Leave, leave now. Almost by its own volition his hand raises to knock weakly on the door. It opens some moments later, and Titus feels his will leave him.

“You look terrible,” Cor says, eyeing him up and down. “Come on.” He nods his head inside as he opens the door wider and Titus enters in a haze, his feet carrying him over the threshold without much thought.

Once inside he drops to unlace his boots out of habit, fingers fumbling with the clasps until they are batted away. His eyes shoot up but Cor isn’t looking at him, intent on undoing his laces. He doesn’t say anything, and Titus can’t bring himself to break the silence. When he’s done Cor stands, waiting for him to shuck off those damnably tall boots. He manages to free himself in a somewhat timely fashion, and Cor sets to divesting him of the simpler parts of his armor. The leather comes away neatly, and Cor carefully hangs it on the coat rack before working on his shirt, deft fingers undoing the buttons with a quick ease before brushing the fabric off his broad shoulders. When that’s done Cor leads him back into the bedroom with a loose grip on his wrist and he follows easily.

“Marshal-” Cor cuts him off with a bruising kiss, using his surprise to his advantage and moving them until he’s able to push Titus down onto the bed. What he needs doesn’t need to be said, Cor knows, those eyes filled with an understanding brought by experience.

“Lie back,” he urges, and Titus would be more inclined to refuse if he wasn’t so damn tired, so he simply does as he’s bid, moving back on the bed until his feet don’t dangle off the edge and his head hits the pillows. “Just relax, Captain.” And he does, the tension of the last few days easing out of him as he sinks into the sheets.

For a moment he contemplates sleep, eyes fluttering closed, the bed beneath him soft and inviting until it dips and he feels moist lips against against his throat. A pleased hum rumbles up through his chest as Cor nips at his throat, and then trails wet kisses down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of his pants. Exhaustion turns to a growing arousal with Cor’s hands working at his belt and zipper, and he shifts his hips as Cor peals the leather slowly down his legs. Titus expects Cor to stroke him to hardness, anticipates rough jerks from that familiar calloused palm, is more eager for it that he cares to admit. A sharp groan tears from his throat at the feel of Cor’s mouth around his cock and his hand finds its way to the man’s head. Cor lets him guide his movements with an insistent touch, his hair soft against his palm. His hips jerk under the ministration, but Cor keeps him from bucking into his mouth with a hand pressed hard against his hip.

Through the haze he hears a pop, but it's distant, Titus can’t find it in himself to care at this point, unable to process much beyond the velvet wetness around him, that tongue doing delectable things with every bob of Cor’s head. When he’s properly hard and aching Cor leaves him with a parting suck to the tip that makes him see stars. He feels Cor roll the condom down his length, hears another pop, and then Cor’s hand is around him, slicking him with lube. A leg swings over his hips and Titus opens his eyes to the sight of Cor’s back, smooth and taunt. Almost mesmerized by the vision before him, Titus watches as Cor slowly sinks down on his length, taking him all the way in until he’s seated on his lap. Their moans mingle and Titus settles his hands on Cor’s hips, thumbs rubbing against the soft skin of his back.

They don’t speak, Cor simply moves, takes his pleasure as Titus lies back and lets him. Cor’s back flexes with each graceful roll of his hips, breathing heavy and almost loud in the silence. Titus watches him with rapt attention, stifling his own sounds of pleasure to catch each of Cor’s, can feel the way his own heart stutters with each quiet moan. Soon it's not enough to simply watch as Cor’s right hand drops between his own legs and his rhythm stutters and speeds, Titus can’t content himself with doing nothing. One of his hands falls away from Cor’s hip, moving to the mattress beside him to push himself up, sore muscles ignored as his back presses to Cor’s chest and he feels him shudder.

Almost lazily he drops his head to Cor’s shoulder, a simple press of lips against skin. Cor sighs and leans back against him, hand falling away from himself to reach back for him, nails biting against his hip as if to bring him impossibly closer. The angle can’t be easy but Cor manages, letting out breathy sounds near his ear as Titus traces his mouth along the line of his neck. He lets the hand still on Cor’s hip trace up until it's splayed along his chest, pulling him in close as his fingers brush the hard line of his collarbone. By the soft sounds he’s starting to make Titus knows he’s close. How easy it would be to kill him now, his hand slips up that much further until it rests around Cor’s throat, it would be so easy, and before he can gain enough sense to stop himself he squeezes with the lightest of pressure. Cor moans sharply, jerking in his grip as he comes, warmth painting Titus’s thighs. He lets himself be pulled into a sloppy kiss by the sudden insistent tugs of Cor’s fingers in his hair, groans into Cor’s mouth as he follows in his own pleasure.

Boneless and sapped of the last of his strength Titus lets himself fall back onto the bed, heaving for breath and unwilling to move. For a moment Cor remains astride him, hunched forward and catching his own breath. Soon enough he lifts away, and Titus watches the obscene way his cock slips free of his ass as he maneuvers himself off the bed. Cor is kind enough to remove the condom, and Titus shudders as his grip lingers on his sensitive cock before he moves away.

“Rest, it's alright.” Titus grunts, forcing one eye back open to track his movement. “And feel free to use the shower if you’d like, might do you some good once you’re up,” he says, tilting his head towards the bathroom as he hunts for his pants.

“You didn’t seem to mind,” he mumbles back, and Cor chuckles.

“Don’t be too smug.” Cor grins, and Titus feels his eyes flutter closed against the strain to keep them open, a wordless sound falling from his lips before sleep suddenly takes him.

When he wakes he’s not sure how much time is passed, but it can’t have been too long, he’s still tired, but the edge of his exhaustion has been taken off nicely. There’s a large glass of water on the bedside table next to a painkiller that won’t work but he takes it anyway and chugs the water, not realizing how thirsty he was until it hits the dryness of his throat. He eats the protein bar as well, grateful to have something somewhat filling, all together it helps him feel more present and solid. A lingering tiredness still clings to him and the idea of a hot shower is an impossible thing to ignore. Gingerly he stands, muscles sore but markedly less than when he arrived, before he makes his way to the bathroom.

The shower does well to soothe him, the hot water bliss against his skin, and he lingers beneath the spray far longer than he usually does. When he’s motivated enough to move he turns off the now lukewarm water and drys off with little hurry, far too relaxed now to bother with any sort of his usual haste. He finds most of his clothes laid out neatly on the dresser along with a pair of sweatpants too large to be Cor’s. For a moment he wonders if they’re his before he remembers the improbability, but he can’t help but wonder who they belong to. Are the Cor’s? Too large by mistake and kept for this reason? Or did they belong to some ex lover and were forgotten? Titus doesn’t let himself linger on that last thought and the dangerous way it makes him feel. The idea of putting on the dirty tight leather of his pants isn’t a pleasant one, and he relents to the old sweats, pulling them on before draping his pants over his arm and making his way out of the bedroom. He doesn’t remember what happened to his shirt, but he’s sure he’ll find it with the rest of his armor, and it’s high time he take his leave.

“Looking for this?” His gaze snaps over to the armchair, approaching without thought. There Cor sits rather languidly, bare legs propped out and crossed at the ankles, greeting him with a raised glass of amber liquid and an unmistakable black sleeve bunching at the crook of his arm.

“That's my shirt.” Which was obvious, but Titus finds he can’t get much else past his suddenly leaden tongue. Cor nods and tips back his glass, polishing it off with a few slow gulps and Titus watches his throat bob with a growing interest.

“Would you like it back?” Yes, because it's late and he should leave, needs to leave, but he’s rooted to the the spot. Something about the nonchalance in Cor’s voice, the borderline taunt, coupled with the way he practically swims in that shirt, awakens something in Titus that he can’t quite explain. What he does know, is that he wants the man sitting in front of him.

Seemingly able to read his thoughts, or more likely just able to read his desire, Cor stands and brushes past him towards the counter. His shirt is loose on Cor, hanging just above the tops of his thighs. Titus presses against his back the moment Cor sets his glass on the counter, and the man leans back against him, chuckling softly.

“Thought you’d still be tired, that wasn’t much of a nap.”

“Enough to give me a second wind,” Titus replies lowly, nipping at Cor’s neck while his hand sneaks up Cor’s thigh.

“Was hoping you would say that.”

“That so?” His hand finds Cor’s ass and he squeezes until Cor hums before sliding his fingers between his cheeks. He inhales sharply when he meets only slick heat and no resistance, and his first finger slips inside without resistance. “Were you?” He can’t even finish the question, lost already to his task, another finger slipping in beside the first.

“Got a little pent up, been weeks since we had the time.” He rocks back against his fingers as a third joins the first two. “Had to get creative, maybe find someone to scratch the itch.” Cor’s tone is breathy and teasing, but Titus practically growls all the same, wrenching his fingers free and more than willing to stake a claim he had no right to.

“Wait!” Cor gasps. “Not here.” Titus stops immediately, hands falling away without hesitation. He’s met with a needy kiss as Cor turns in his arms and tugs him along with a grip on his arms. Cor lets go only once, to swipe the condom he hadn’t noticed off the coffee table, and Titus stands impossibly still as Cor pushes his borrowed sweats down enough to free his cock and tears the packet open and slides it down his length, slicking him with lube a moment later.

When Cor’s back hits the wall they stop and he knows what that glint in Cor’s eyes is asking for. His palms drift from Cor’s hips and he lifts him easily with his hands on his ass, Cor’s legs spread as they drape over his arms as he brings Cor up against the wall. A sigh slips past his lips when Cor reaches between them to grab his cock and guide it home, Cor’s soft moan music to his ears. At first the pace is slow, an awkward adjustment to the new position, but soon Titus finds his rhythm and seeing Cor with the black of his shirt contrasting starkly against his pale skin and the flush dusting his cheeks is reward enough for his efforts. Lips fall against the exposed column of Cor’s throat and it's hard to resist the urge to leave a visible mark. Instead he trails little nips down past the collar of his shirt to his chest where he sucks a harsh mark onto the center of his chest, the black fabric tickling the sides of his face. A rad mark remains in his wake, framed by black and white. Cor moans and tugs harshly at his hair, pulling him into a fierce kiss. Every moment that passes drives his passion further, his hips snap and his hands hold Cor to him with bruising force as he fucks the man into the wall relentlessly, spurred on by every sound and grasp of needy hands. It makes him feel alive, reminds him that he’s alive, and Cor is here living with him, and that in this moment he is untouchable and so very alive.

They are never particularly loud when they fuck, something he’s always appreciated, but the noises he pulls from Cor now are almost addicting in their newness. His moans, usually so quiet and controlled, ring sharp through the apartment and damn Titus wants to hear more. So he shifts his grip under Cor’s legs and pins him harder to the wall with every thrust. It does the trick, Cor cries out, and Titus feels blunt nails claw against this back as Cor scrambles for purchase. The edge is close now, his muscles burning, sweat slicking his skin. He brushes the collar of his shirt aside and mouths the junction where Cor’s shoulder meets his neck and bites down hard, shifting his grip and grinding into the man in his arms. He feels his own release wash over him just as Cor stiffens in his arms and lets out a shout.

Despite the sudden weakness in his legs he holds them up for a moment, pressed heavily against Cor while they catch their breath. Again he feels exhausted, but this time it is a pleasant feeling, though he’s sure his muscles will protest greatly come morning. When he feels like his legs will hold him steady he lifts Cor of his cock and lowers him slowly to the ground where he sways and tightens his grip.

“I’ll be feeling that tomorrow,” Cor chuckles breathlessly, and Titus grunts his agreement. Pulling back once Cor steadies himself, he rights himself and tries manages to keep his eyes away from Cor’s state of disarray.

“I should go,” he says, almost to himself as he puts distance between them, stifling a sudden yawn.

“It’s late and you’re exhausted,” Cor states matter-of-factly. “You’re welcome to stay.” That has a softer tone to it, and Titus looks at him, now holding his shirt closed as if shy. “The couch is pretty comfortable,” he adds as if able to read Titus’s apprehensive thoughts.

A refusal gets caught and silenced by another yawn impossible to stifle and that coupled with Cor’s arched brow is enough for him to acquiesce. Just this once. Besides sleeping on Cor’s couch is hardly intimate, and in truth he had no interest making the long journey to his own apartment half asleep in the middle of the night. With a triumphant look on his face Cor walks to his bedroom, and Titus simply waits where he stands. Five minutes pass before Cor reappears dressed in simple sleep clothes with a pillow and blanket in one arm and the black shirt draped over the other.

“I don’t usually have guests so I hope this is enough,” he says as he sets the makeshift bedding down on the couch for Titus to arrange as he pleased. Titus tosses the pillow against one arm of the couch so his feet will face the door before picking up the blanket. It’s an old blue thing, knitted he thinks, but soft all the same. From the other side of the room Cor clears his throat, smoothing out the fabric of the black shirt where it now rests on the armchair.

“Thank you,” he manages to say after a few awkward moments of silence.

“Don’t mention it,” Cor replies quickly. “If you need anything let me know, just get some rest, Drautos, Astrals know you need it.” Then he returns to his bedroom, door closing behind him and Titus is alone.

If he wanted he could still leave, but the moment he sits down on the couch the strength to do so leaves him. Accepting his fate he adjusts himself on his back, head nestled on the downy pillow and the arm of the couch and his feet draped over the other thanks to his height. Still it was surprisingly comfortable, almost more so than his own bed. Coupled with the warmth of the blanket, the safety of Cor’s apartment lulls him into a deep and much needed sleep.

Glauca comes forth in the throne room, death and vengeance wrapped in steel. The room is empty, just him and the king, blanketed in a calm silence. He moves forward, footsteps echoing loud through the high chamber as he walks towards the king of Lucis with his sword clasped in both hands. The king does not speak, not until his end is too close to escape.

“Why?”

“For my home,” He replies, then draws back and thrusts the thick blade forward fast and true. Except it's not the king dying by his hand when he looks back to his victim. Blood seeps from between Cor’s lips, red slowly dripping from the corners, splashing to the ground loud as rain.

Surprise jolts him awake and he tries not to let the panic set in, dazed by the unfamiliar surroundings and the freshness of his dream. A dream that has never changed for years. Then he remembers. Soft moonlight filters in from the kitchen window just bright enough for him to recognize the space around him. Damn but Cor’s apartment shouldn’t be so familiar. Titus sits up and wipes the sweat from his brow, taking deep breaths until he calms. The bedroom door is cracked and he’s almost tempted to peek into the dark room just to make sure all is well and immediately stamps the thought. He needs to leave.

The old blanket he’d slept beneath gets folded and set on the arm of the couch before he stumbles half blind through the living room in an attempt to find his discarded clothes in the dark. He finds his shirt where Cor had left it draped over the armchair, smelling of sweat and sex. With only a little difficulty he ignores it, shoves his arms through the sleeves and continues the hunt for his pants until his foot catches the leg of one of the dining table chairs and shatters the quiet. Titus holds his breath and waits, but his luck has run out and soon enough the space is bathed in light.

“You could have turned on a light,” Cor says from near the front door, hand still on the switch, voice hoarse with sleep.

“Didn’t want to wake you.” Just like that Cor’s expression softens, and Titus tries not to notice the slight limp as he makes his way across the room.

“It's still late,” he says, hand hovering over Titus’s arm. “You’re welcome to stay, at least until sunrise.”

Titus wants to refuse, but Cor’s right, and the last thing he needs is to stumble his way home during the night while he’s still exhausted. Instead he nods and lets Cor’s feather light touch guide him back to the couch. Cor flips on the light in the kitchen, dimming it until it's little more than a warm glow, before he starts pulling things from his cabinets.

“What are you doing?”

“What I always do when I can’t sleep.” Is the only answer he gets, but he hears the stove flare to life and decides it's better to just wait, relaxing back into the couch as his fingers idly trace the frayed edges of the blanket beside him.

Titus closes his eyes, letting himself be lulled by the sound of Cor working until the couch dips beside him and Cor is there holding a steaming cup out for him. He takes it, lets the touch of their fingers linger until he brings the drink to his lap and holds it with both hands, the warmth seeping into his cold and clammy palms.

He sniffs, “tea?”

“Chamomile,” Cor says. He brings his own cup to his lips and takes a long sip. “Helps with the nightmares.” Titus shifts, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost,” Cor explains. “I know that look.”

The image of Cor dying by his hand still haunts the edges of his vision and he returns his gaze to the steam rising from his mug. After a few more sips and a long minute of silence Cor speaks again.

“Can I ask what it was about?” Spoken so softly that Titus could ignore it if he wanted, but his walls are weak, and for once honesty wins back the reins to his tongue.

“Death,” he replies, looking Cor in the eye and still seeing the dead man from his dream. “Always death.”

A look of empathy crosses Cor’s face, his eyes softening with a sort of understanding Titus doesn’t want to see but can’t look away from. He places a hand, warm from the tea, against his arm and gives it a gentle pat. Nothing is said, Cor stands and pads around the couch and Titus feels his skin tingle at the loss of contact as he goes. Cor stops in the doorway, tea cradled once again between his palms as he looks at Titus again.

“Be sure to finish it, I promise it helps.” And then he’s back in his room and this time the door clicks behind him.

Titus lets out a shaky breath and then finishes his tea, letting the warmth of it sting and soothe his throat in equal measure. Carefully he sets the empty cup down on the table and resumes his awkward position on the couch, staring up into the dark until he can no longer keep his eyes open. When he next drifts off no dreams chase him, just as promised.

#cor x titus #cor leonis #titus drautos #mmck writes fic #ffxv fic #hm yeah not feelin great about this one #but yikes its been a while since ive written #got a feeling my next 2 will be better #and thats what counts right? #im working on it #i missed these 2 i will say that #looking forward to the week thats for sure #glad im running it now because i wouldnt have been able to make shit with how lifes been going #but i think things are finally starting to look up #not for titus though rip we're gonna hit bummer town there soon #but two smut scenes in one chapter has to count for something

[enchanted-flowers]

Skitty is a Matchmaker

Pairing: Reader/Underfell Sans (Red)

Rating: All ages  Word count: 1800 Warnings: None. This is a very fluffy fic. 

Undertale x Pokemon Crossover AU

First place raffle prize for @coleart! I’m not sure how I feel about writing pokemon, but this was super fun to do! Here is what he requested. 

I hope you enjoy this fic Cole! 

Red ravenously devours his Old Gateau, licking his fingers in between where even his trusted Pignite twists his face up in disgust. You and your Lucario stare at him, instantly losing your appetite for your sandwich as crumbs fall from his mouth.

“Can’t you eat like a normal person?” you scold, reaching over the table and wiping the crumbs off his face with your napkin, “I feel like your parent sometimes.”

“if ya don’t like it, then go somewhere else,” Red grumbles, then tosses a scrap to his pokemon.

You roll your eyes and return to your lunch, enjoying the bright outdoors on a route outside of Hearthome City. The winds breeze by gently, swaying the tall grass and the trees, where various wild pokemon chitter and go about their lives. You notice two Pachirisus fighting over a cherri berry until an Aipom swoops in and stole it from their clutches. Most of the pokemon ignore the two trainers, uninterested in a battle right now. It’s a beautiful day outside...if you could ignore the goblin in front of you.

Suddenly, a figure bursts from the trees and Lucario and Pignite leap into action to protect their trainers. Noticing that the figure was only a panicked elderly woman, you order your pokemon to stand down. The woman’s grey hair stuck out in all different directions, her saggy eyes red and puffy from with the streams of tears rolling down her aged face. She’s panting hard and grasping on a nearby tree for support. Your Lucario immediately brought her a cup of water and you helped her to your table with worry, while Red eyes the woman suspiciously, his Pignite sniffing around her legs.

“Oh thank Arceus, trainers!” the old woman weeps, “Please help me. My Skitty ran off and I am much too old to fend pokemon off myself. I need to get her back!”

Your heart went out to her, and you nod your head without hesitation, “Yes, of course-”

“how much,” the skeleton interrupts, picking his teeth with his fingers.

“Red!” you glare at him.

“what? if we are going to be doing her a favor, we should be compensated,” he shrugs and crosses his arms.

“That’s-”

“No, my dear, it’s fine,” the elderly woman reaches into her bag and holds out a few coins, “I have much gold.”

Red swipes the money from her hand, and inspects it, deeming the request worthy of his time. You shake your head in disappointment with him, but he’s stubborn and the woman is willing to pay so you don’t bother putting up a fight.

“aight. where was was the last place you saw your skitty?” Red asks while you pack the remainder of your items.

The woman points to Mt. Coronet. You and Red look at each other and gulp. Not only was the mountain full of annoying wild pokemon that seems to want to attack you every few minutes, but there are a ridiculous amount of twists and turns with hidden tunnels and traps. But being the greedy money trainer that he is (“WE NEED FOOD. THIS IS HOW WE GET MONEY FOR FOOD!”) Red trudges on. Glancing at the old woman, you throw your pokeball, letting your Sylveon out who greets you happily with a cheerful squee.

“My Sylveon will escort you back to town. We’ll meet you at the Hearthome pokemon center when we find your pokemon,”

The woman bows and thanks you, and you watch as the two of them disappear into the trees. Red looks at you expectantly, his Pigmite resting on his shoulders and your Lucario trotting besides you. You nod and the two of you embark to Mt. Coronet.

Before entering, you grab two repels from your bag and hand one to Red, the both of you showering yourselves with the spray. The two pokemon gags, and you apologetically pat Lucario’s back. The pokemon stays five feet away from you and Red for the remainder of the time. Despite the lit torches left by past trainers and construction workers, the cave is still dark, and you just replaced your Lucario’s flash with False Swipe. Stupid you. Red searches like a zombie, completely uninterested and bored, hoping to find the Skitty and go back home already, but in this endless maze, it could be for hours.

“ugh, i’m hungry,” Red grumbles, kicking a rock and scaring away a zubat.

“You just ate,”

“still. how long have we been in here anyway? hours?” the skeleton trainer complains.

“Try 20 minutes”

Red groans loudly and slumps on the dirt, “i dun wanna do this anymore.”

“Well you already accepted the payment,” you cross your arms and drag him back up, “It’s not like we had anything better to do anyway.”

Red looks at you quietly, his bone brows furrows and his mouth dips into a slight frown. He looks like he was about to say something, but changed his mind.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

A faint blush spreads throughout his face, but before he could say anything, Pignite screeches, alerting you two of the little Skitty, who squeals happily and runs away, further into the cave.

“Hey! Come back here!” you yell, but as soon as you ran in its direction, a golbat swoops in and attacks, “Red! Go after it! I got this!”

The skeleton nods and follows the Skitty. Lucario springs into battle, waiting for his orders.

“Use focus blast!” you command, pointing at the Golbat.

A ball of energy forms in between Lucario’s palms and he aims the ball of light at the enemy pokemon, flinging it against the wall. Golbat instantly fainted.

“Good job!” you praise and give him a head pat, “We gotta catch up to Red and Pignite. Let’s go!”

Lucario nods and the two of you run after your friends. You found Red cornering the Skitty against the cavern wall, a smug smirk stretching across his face.

“ ‘ere skitty skitty skitty,” he clicks, bending down, and reaching his hand towards the pokemon.

“Red, be careful. You might scare her,” you warn.

“pssh, please. it’s a little skitty, what harm can it-” suddenly, the pink pokemon cries and emits a sudden blast of a heart shaped cloud, wrapping around Red and knocking him backwards with a yelp.

“Red!” you rush to his side, and the Skitty sprints away, but Pignite runs after her.

The skeleton moans and rubs his head, and looks at you, his eye lights suddenly transforming into small hearts, looking at you as if you are suddenly the center of his world. He touches your cheeks tenderly, with a gentleness you never knew he possessed.

“Red?” you whisper quietly, your heart pounding loudly in your chest.

“darling.” the skeleton purrs, his face only inches away from your lips.

You lean into his touch, bringing yourself closer to him, losing sight of your goal and allow this to happen. Your insides rip each other apart as your face flushes with heat. A part of you wants to push him away, another wants to hold him like this forever, as you’re locked in his gaze. His mouth brushes against your lips, but before he could fully kiss you, Lucario balls his fasts and sucker punches the skeleton, his head cracking the wall. You scream and rush over to his side, checking for injuries, but he only seems unconscious for now.

“Lucario! Why would you do that?!” you shout, anger fuming.

Keeping as calm as ever, he just simply points to you. Whatever that means. Pignite comes back a moment later, with the Skitty in his arms, who’s purring softly and sleeping against the heated pokemon. You sigh and shake your head, clearing yourself of whatever just happened, and pick up Red’s body. Luckily, he’s a skeleton so weight isn’t a problem, but Lucario helps you anyway. He seems apologetic for hurting Red, but doesn’t regret his actions. All of you exit the cave without a problem.

When you and your pokemon emerge, the sky is already painted with streaks of orange. Red stirs in your arms, grunting in pain but otherwise seems alright. He looks at you in confusion, then anger, leaping away from you and readying a battle stance.

“what the hell happened??? why was i passed out?!” he growls.

“Lucario punched you. I’m so sorry about that,” you apologize.

“what the hell? why would he punch me?!”

“You don’t remember?”

Red blinks and thinks for a moment, shaking his head, “the last thing i remember was finding that pokemon. did something happen?”

Your hand twitches, your mouth hanging slightly open, your heart clenching. You put on a fake smile and shake your head, telling him that he was just in Lucario’s way when a pokemon attacked and he’ll get checked out at the Pokemon Center. He buys your story, and slowly returns to his normal self once you two enter the city. You find the old woman at the center with your sylveon, who prances towards you and happily nuzzles your leg upon your return. The woman coos as soon as Pignite hands over her Skitty.

“Thank you so much you two. I hope she didn’t cause you any trouble. She’s quite mischievous,”

“Ah, it was no problem at all. Happy to help,” you smile.

“That’s a relief. I was afraid she was going to use her special move to escape again,” the woman scratch’s the Skitty’s head.

“special move?” Red asks, raising his bone brow in curiosity.

“Yes. Her “Attract” move is special. Once an opponent is hit, they are instantly infatuated with the first object that they see. The move is stronger when object just happens to be something or someone that they already have feelings for. They will often times make rash decisions and act impulsively. The move isn’t very useful in battle, but it allows her to get away easier.” the old woman explains.

Red snorts, as if he doesn’t believe her. You on the other hand…

The two of you recieve your rewards, and leave Lucario and Pignite at the center to rest up while the two of you grab some dinner.

“so, where do you want to eat? i’m famished,”

You shrug and look at him, the moonlight hovering right above him, “Anywhere is fine. My treat.”

“woah really?” Red says in astonishment, “what’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head and lace your fingers with his, pressing a kiss on his cheek, “I’m just happy to be with you.”

Red turns into a tomato, fumbling over his words his hand shaking in yours as drops of sweat rolls down his head. He clears his throat and smirks, even with his blush. He hopes you have a fat wallet because he’s celebrating tonight.

#pssst #hey #robin #robindaspoopy #rob rob #i hope you got the reference #it was DS's idea #please oink at me when you see the referenc #underfell #underfell sans #uf sans #reader insert #safe for work #sfw #my writing #sans x reader #undertale headcanons #raffle prize

[mangled-dreams]

Snowflakes

Snowflakes

A request from @destinggirl.

Hey! I saw the request post. I had an idea:

Dark x Reader where Dark is seeing snow for the first time, and proposes to reader or asks them out in the snow?

I’ve done one similar where Dark proposes, so I decided to go with asks reader out. So here you go: Snowflakes.

Walking out of the office you smile to yourself. You've finally got Dark, Mark, and Amy to join you at your family cabin in the Mt. Pino area. You're already heading up to the cabin to get it ready for your friends. Things have been a bit on the stressful side since Dark appeared in the real world.

No one really knows how Dark became to be, but he is and you're trying to play mediator. Tension is high and Mark is having a hard time coming to terms with his living ego. Even Amy is having issues with being around Dark, it seems like you're the only one able to deal. Even Ethan, Tyler, Kathryn, and the others are having difficult times adjusting to Dark's consistent presents.

You're hoping this little vacation will help Mark and Amy get to know Dark better, and get a few things aired out. From what you've gotten to know about Dark, he's not a bad guy—a little twisted, but then again he did come from Mark. You actually enjoy your time with Dark, he's really quite attentive and picks up on things quickly.

Pulling into the long driveway you take the closest spot next to the stairs and begin the unload process. You have to clean the house before the others show up. The weather doesn't call for any kind of cold weather, but you've learned the hard way to be prepared when having a last hurrah for summer.

About four hours after arriving at the cabin Dark appears in the door way behind you. You don't see him right away, nor do you hear him. You don't rightly know how long Dark has been watching you sing off key and dance to the music playing in your ears.

Twirling around you shriek when you spot Dark lounging in the doorway with a smirk on his face. Ripping your ear buds from your head you ask, “how long have you been there?”

Dark chuckles, pushes away from the door jam with his hip, and walks over to you. “Long enough, you seemed to be happy fun.” He chuckles again. “I couldn't bring myself to disturb you.”

Brushing your hair from your sweat and dust covered face you look away from Dark feeling a little embarrassed he watched you sing and dance without regards to anyone else. Glancing back at Dark you ask him, “How did you get up here? I take it you didn't ride with Amy and Mark.” You set down the damn cloth you'd been using to clean a few surfaces before moving on to getting the bedrooms tidied up. “Walk and talk with me.”

“I arrived on my own. Mark and Amy still are uncomfortable in small spaces with me.” Dark tells you following you down the hallway. You sigh a little.

Okay, not the best start to the mini vacation, but at least that means Mark and Amy are on their way up. “I could use a hand getting things finished.” You say twirling on your heel and look up at Dark with a big smile. Dark smirks before looking around the hallway taking in the lay our from his vantage then snaps his fingers together. You hear and feel the beds lift before dropping to the ground again.

Spinning around you go to the first room and throw open the door flicking on the light. The beds are completely made with fresh linens and there isn't a single dust mite anywhere. Glancing back at Dark you smirk, “What else can you do?”

Throwing the car into park Mark looks up at your family's cabin and sighs. He really doesn't want to be stuck in a house, in the middle of the mountain with Dark. He know you have a different opinion of his alter personality, but it just doesn't sit well with him. He didn't even know it would be realistically possible for his supernatural alter ego to even be birthed into the world.

“Come on, Mark. Y/n put a lot of effort into this week. You promised her you'd give it that old college try.” Amy says teasing Mark as well as trying to comfort him. Her reaches across the center console and rubs Mark's shoulder with an encouraging smile. Mark sighs but smiles back at Amy and promises with only a few short sounds that he'll try.

Both exit the car and begin to unload. A few minutes later the silence is broken by your screams. Mark and Amy exchange looks before dropping everything in her arms and run up the stairs nearly breaking down the door only to find you suspended in air with a huge laughing smile on your face. Once more Amy and Mark exchange looks.

“What is going on in here?” Amy asks getting both your and Dark's attention. You know her tone is playful, but it doesn't translate properly to Dark and he loses concentration on holding you in the air. Without warning you plummet to the ground a fearful cry leaving your mouth.

Before anyone could blink Dark catches you. Letting your heart slowly go to a normal rhythm you let Dark hold you close for a few seconds before setting you on your feet.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Mark asks rushing to you with Amy at his side. You run your hand through your hair and nod not quite able to find your voice just yet.

“Whoa, that was head rush.” You say smiling nervously. “Thanks for not letting me die.” You add looking up at Dark with the same nervous smile.

“I am sorry that happened. I was not expecting to be interrupted, that was my mistake.” Dark says retaining one hand on your shoulder.

“What were you two doing? We heard you screaming from outside.” Mark asks harsher than he meant to sound, but the image of your falling has him frazzled.

You look down from Mark feeling a little guilty. It is your fault that you'd almost been splattered on the floor. “I actually kind of dared Dark to do it. He helped me finish the rooms and get everything ready so I was done way ahead of schedule. I got curious about what all Dark is able to do, so... I—ah, challenged him.” You tell Mark keeping in front of Dark just in case Mark wants to direct blame to the wrong person.

Mark looks from you to Dark and back again and sighs. He can see from your stance you are willing to shoulder all the blame for what just happened. Maybe you're right, he thinks. Maybe he doesn't give Dark his due and a fair trial. Mark's always trusted your judgment until Dark appeared, but you'd been one of the more cautious of his group when Dark showed up. “Okay, no need to look at me like that, Y/n. I'm not going to do anything, just... please, be more careful.” He gives you a smile, it's strained and a little insincere, but it's something.

“You got it boss. Do you two need help bringing things in?”

“That was delicious.” You say gathering up dishes after finished a wonderful meal thanks to Amy.

“Thank you. I've only made this dish a few times, but it's one of Mark's favorites.” Amy responds assisting you with the dishes.You make small talk over dinner techniques as Mark and Dark simply sit at the table in silence.

"They really aren't getting a long, are they?" You ask Amy with a heavy sigh Dark seemed to willing to at least make an attempt at getting along with Mark.

Amy gives a sympathetic smirk. "Mark promised to try, but you know how that can be at times. He still has reservations about this week, but he promised he'd at least try." Amy tells you. You nod, well at least the pair have that in common.

The next day you decide to break the tension filling the cabin with unease and discomfort. This vacation is to bring everyone together, but so far nothing good had come of it.

"Okay everyone! Change into your bathing suits and join me in a dip in the heated pool!" You order cheerfully to hide the fact it is an order. Mark and Dark actually change a look of disinterest but both reluctantly stand up. The small exchange fills you with determination.

Taking four towels with you, you head to the pool and lay set down the towel on a small frosted glass table and take off your swimsuit cover. Laying your cover on a lounge chair you walk into the pool. It's not the biggest pool in the area, but it's perfect for a small group of friends hanging out.

"You have a very lovely bathing suit." Dark greets you, appearing at the edge of the pool a few minutes after you entered it. Turning around you smile up at him, enjoying to sight of Dark shirtless and in black and red Hawaiian floral print board shorts.

"You don't look bad yourself, and thank you. Are you going to join me?" You ask shading your eyes with your hand. The sun feels amazing on your dry skin and thankfully the temperature of the water isn't uncomfortable in the California summer heat. Dark smirks down at you and walks over to the stairs leading into the shallow end.

One misstep and Dark slips, nearly losing his balance. You cover your mouth as you giggle, watching Dark recover and step off the last stair.

"You didn't hurt yourself, did you?" You ask walking over to Dark with concern.

Dark regards you for a moment but shakes his head, opting to not vocalize his response. He likes seeing the playful smile on your face and the way your eyes seem to glitter with happiness. It wasn't long ago that you regarded him the same as Mark does; with hesitancy, mistrust, and a cold look in your eyes as if he didn't matter in the slightest.

"Aw! You beat us down here!" Amy coos as she and Mark walk over to the pool. You smile and laugh softly.

"Early bird." You respond watching Amy set her sunhat and glasses down before entering the pool by sitting on the edge an sliding in. Mark surveys the scene for a few seconds longer then jumps into the pool, drenching you, Amy, and Dark in a tidal wave of water.

Within seconds of Mark popping his head out of the water a splashing war began. Laughter and shrieks of play fill the still air, Dark even joining in on the fun. Now, this is how you imagined the week going.

Almost as if a window has been opened nearly all the awkwardness is blown away. Mark and Dark start to complete to see who can swim the fastest. Small competitions that make you and Amy sit back and laugh with delight--until, that is they turn their attention the pair of you.

Stretching out on the larger couch you fold your arms behind your head and listen to the soft jazz music Dark put on as the evening wounds down to a slow. Mark and Amy have retired for the evening and Dark is somewhere exploring the cabin.

Dozing off you remember having the feeling of someone hovering over you. When you wake up the next morning you feel a thick throw covering your body. Smiling to yourself you roll to your side and curl yourself into a ball.

The blanket smells like Dark.

"Hey, um, Y/n, it's snowing outside!" Amy calls from the kitchen.

You pause in your action and stand up straight. Giving a confused look to Mark, you both walk into the kitchen and look out the front windows to fluffy white flakes falling peacefully from the sky.

"Huh, would you look at that. It is snowing." You respond rather unaffected by the natural phenomenon. It's not uncommon to get a few light snow flurries this early in the year, but the weather didn't say anything about the chance of snow.

"Did you check the weather report today?" Mark asks looking at you already with your phone in hand.

"Yeah, nothing said anything about snow coming in." You respond scrolling through the website for the forecast weather. Refreshing the page you see the weather prediction had changed drastically. "It's saying they're calling for snow for the rest of the week." you announce shocked and a little upset, but glad you brought up the extra supplies.

"Really? Would we be able to get home safely if we leave now?" Amy asks not really up to being locked in a cabin for a week. You shrug.

"I've never really driven in snow, but if you left now, I'm sure you'd make it back into town." You respond glancing around the cabin. You wouldn't be able to leave so easily, as it is right now you'll have to cover the pool and drain the water, make sure all the windows and doors are closed, not to mention clean up and put everything inside the house away before leaving.

"What about you? I know that look." Mark says very aware you could never just take your things and go.

You shrug and respond, "I'd probably get stuck here until the snow melts. My car isn't equip to deal with the snow, not to mention I've never driven in the snow, so that's out. Plus, I have to get the cabin cleaned up and hunkered down. Mom said no one would need it until Thanksgiving."

"Oh, wow. What all do you have to do?" Amy asks and you go through your check list of tasks to do.

"That's quite the list." Dark responds from your left. You nod and shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah, but I've done it before. I should be able to leave in about two hours if I start now. The snow looks like it's not very thick, so I doubt there will be any issues with leaving if it takes a little longer." You explain looking outside again.

"Don't worry, we'll help you. It's been a while since I've played in the snow." Amy offers smiling at you. You thank her and split into groups. Dark accompanies you to drain and cover the pool.

As you watch the medium sized pool drain you notice Dark's a bit distracted. You wonder if he's worried about being snowed in, but dismiss the thought as Dark can simply pop in an out of spaces. The more you watch him the more you see he's distracted by the snow itself and not the accumulation.

"Have you never seen snow?" You ask pulling Dark from his thoughts.

"No, I have not. I've only existed in this world a short time and that has been solely in L.A." Dark responds looking down at you. Snow is gathering in your hair, coating it in a soft uneven blanket. You smile up at him.

You watch puffs of hot air escape into the sky and giggle. "It's pretty isn't it?"

"Yes." Dark knows how snow forms, he know what snow looks like from memories passed to him from Mark, but it's nothing like seeing it for himself. For a small amount of time Dark forgets he's supposed to be helping. When he remembers finally he finds you putting down the overly large umbrella sticking out of a table. Due to Mark, Dark doesn't use his magic. You both know it still freaks Mark out.

"Got your fill?" you ask smiling at Dark. You wonder if he can even feel the cold of the snow. "I've never asked, but are you able to feel temperature? You always seem comfortable despite the temp outside or inside." You add lifting the long pole from the table.

Dark is beside you in a flash, steadying you. Your foot slipped on a slick patch of concrete and you'd been on the downward swing. Dark rights you and takes the umbrella. "I can feel temperatures, I am just able to adjust myself accordingly." He pauses, watching the bright red of your cheeks stand out against your sun kissed skin.

You mistaken his pause and tell Dark where the umbrella goes in the small protected shed under the deck. Dark returns the umbrella without a work and you finish packing up the chairs. It's well past noon by the time everything is done. You catch Dark staring off at the hills, watching the snow drift noiselessly to the ground. You don't dare disturb him.

"I think that is everything!" You say happily. The cabin is now winterized, and you feel confident you can escape from the snow, but the more you think about it the more you want to stay. You have all the provisions and after watching Dark quietly fawn over the snow in his own stoic way you find you'd like to stay.

"That took a while." Mark chimes from the couch. You look at him and Amy cuddled up together on the big sectional with two cups of steaming coca before them.

You smirk, walk over to the back of the couch, and lean over saying, "You two look cozy. I thought you guys were getting ready to leave."

Amy giggles behind her hand leaning into Mark. "We thought, if it's okay with you, we'd stay the rest of the week here. We took the time off after all."

After a brief discussion it's put to a vote and decided you'll finish out the week at the cabin. After checking the weather again you all make a plan to leave late Friday when the sunshine is supposed to return.

You talk a little longer before venturing off to find Dark. You're pretty sure you know where he is and make your way through the cabin to the deck wrapped around the back of the building. Smiling you spot your target just outside the doors.

Sliding the door open to announce yourself to Dark and step out closing the door behind you. "Still watching the snow?" You ask standing next to Dark, looking out at the scenery.

You both stand in silence before Dark breaks it asking, "Would you like to go out?"

"I don't have a snow suite and only brought one pair of jeans." You say looking down at your sweat pants then to the snow again.

Dark smirks. Of course you would go with the most innocent meaning of his words. "As interesting as it would be to venture into the show, that is not my meaning." Dark explains earning your full attention.

Twisting just slightly you lift your gaze to his face. "Then what..."

"Would you like to go out, with me? As in a date." Dark clarifies for you, watching your eyes grow large and a bright red cross your face.

"Oh Oh!" You gasp staring up at Dark. "Are you sure? I mean, I--ah, y-yes. Yes, I would like that very much." You fumble feeling like an idiot but a happy one. He nods to you and holds his hand out to you. You wonder what this means to him but still put your hand in his with the goofiest smile you've ever had.

"Ah, to be young again." Mark coos from inside the doors. Amy rolls her eyes and pushes Mark gently.

"We're the same age." She remarks. They'd both had a feeling Dark has feelings for you, but with all the tension assumed he was holding back for your benefit.

"Is it weird for you Amy? He and I are basically twins." Mark says still feeling uneasy with the fact Dark is alive, but less worried about his personality and temperament.

Amy shrugs her shoulders still watching you and Dark stand a little closer to one another watching the snow flutter down. "It's weird, but you two are still very different, but that's a good way of thinking about him; just a long lost twin."

The pair share a quite laugh before leaving you and Dark to watch the snow. Eventually when you come in to get warmed up and eat lunch Mark and Amy tease you. Dark let's you take shelter in his embrace and you quickly find you can easily get used to this.

[tuellertrails]

It’s hard to put into words what our first week on trail has been like, but I’ll try.

Tiring. Hot. Cold. Amazing. Beautiful. Adventure. Ouch. Hungry. Thirsty. Dirty. Smelly.

There you have it!

Starting out the PCT was an emotional experience. It was surreal hiking those first few miles, and then it just sinks in “oh right, this is just hiking. And hiking is just walking. And walking is tiring. Wow it’s hot. Wait, how am I already this dirty?” We only made it about .3 miles when we came upon a little campground with some trail angels that we talked to briefly. One of them was an older man with long white silver hair and blue eyes named Legend who apparently is a triple crowner (has hiked the PCT, AT and CDT). He told us to put our hands towards the trail and then grab some air and cup it into a ball in our hands. He said we had grabbed a little piece of magic from the PCT and it is carried in all the hikers who had gone before us and that we were all connected. He told us to hold it up to our hearts to absorb, but being the brilliant nurse that I am, I held it to the right side of my chest instead of the left, so I guess that means the magic went into my rib cage instead. I’m not an expert in PCT magic 🤷🏻‍♀️ so who knows how it will affect me. Magic ribs? Time will tell. He also told us to take another piece of PCT magic and put it in our pocket to give to a friend. I will sell mine to the highest bidder. Authentic PCT magic, hard to come by, Bitcoin will be accepted as a trade.

Hiking has been very physically exhausting for me, more than I expected to be honest. We’re going about 2-2.3 miles per hour at this point, and have done 10-16 miles per day. We wake up between 6-7 AM, pack up our stuff and head out. Generally we eat breakfast at our first break of the day after 3-4 miles, and I’ve found that I need a break about every 3 miles. If we can get to a great spot for lunch, we will generally take at least an hour and sometimes more if it’s in the heat of the day. We try to stop hiking between 5-6 pm, so we can have time to set up camp, make dinner, roll out our feet and sore muscles, and write in our journals before bed. We are very tired every night, but sometimes we don’t sleep very well if it’s windy or very cold. I always take my trusty Benadryl and sleep better with it!

The hardest part for me so far has been the wear and tear on my feet. The biggest mistake I made at the start was not putting inserts in my shoes. My feet have been in a lot of pain and I’ve had to take more breaks to roll them out to continue hiking. No matter how tired I am, I have to roll out my feet at the end of the day or they fee pretty rough the next day. I’ve also been dealing with some blisters and some chafing, so basically everything hurts! Doing miles on miles every single day is a lot of work, and we are sore every day. Other hikers that we’ve met who have done other thru hikes assure us that we will get our trail legs (eventually) but it’s going to take about 3 weeks

Ok, enough complaining!! We have met some amazing people. Landon’s cousin Justin hiked out with us the first day and it was fun to give him a taste of the trail. There was a small group of people that we started with who have been a bit faster than us and are now ahead of us on the trail, but maybe we’ll run into them again!

We met a mother and son duo named Chris and Pat. Pat is a psychologist at a University and counsels students. She was the nicest friendliest little lady and I immediately liked her. Chris, her son, works in film media and is trying to become a landscape photographer. They were both lovely but Pat can't go very fast so I'm not sure we'll see them again, but we're following each other on Instagram now.

We’ve spent quite a bit of time with a small group of hikers, hiking and also hanging out with them in Julian (where we are taking our first zero day, no hiking and only lots of resting, eating and socializing). Half of them are not American which is exciting! Florian is from Germany and is a super interesting guy. He works for Google and has lived in Australia, the UK, and most recently in San Francisco. We talked about the differences between Germany and Europe, some about politics (how crazy American politics are compared to relatively boring German ones), gun control, Mental illness and lack of resources in America, our messed up healthcare system, the largeness of Australian huntsman spiders, and a whole bunch of other things. Lauren is from Canada and loves to quiz you about geography and ask fun questions. Today she asked "which animal most represents the place that you live?" Landon and I debated for a while and decided on a big horn sheep 🐑. She and Florian met on the JMT and are hiking together as friends as they both have significant others. She is always scavenging for everyone’s extra food and someone suggested that her trail name be Trash Panda (people give each other “trail names” on thru hikes, and then that’s how people introduce themselves. We haven’t gotten ours yet but it’s only a matter of time). I don’t think she accepted that trail name though 😂


Another woman from the group is from Germany named Silke who is a bit more shy but still friendly, and man is she fit. She just blazed past us on the trail today. We also gave her a piece of pop tart and some skittles to try, and she hated both, which was very funny to watch her disgusted reaction. She hasn’t built up the junk food tolerance that we have I suppose, it takes years to build and I started very young! Carolina is from the Czech Republic, and has a great sense of humor. I can’t imagine the kind of bravery it takes to go to a foreign country where you know no one and the language spoken isn’t your first language, and taking on a monumental task like hiking the PCT. It’s pretty incredible and I have a lot of respect for all the hikers, but especially the foreign ones. We took a picture yesterday before Carolina had showered and she said “I look so dirty and crazy!” 😂 I ask just about everyone “what does your family think of your coming out to do this?” and the most common answers include “they don’t really get it...” and “They think I’m crazy.”

Otter is a 58 year old guy who was in the airforce for 30 years and has spent the last 5 years of his retirement hiking and traveling. He hiked the Appalachian Trail in 2019. Otter said that he decided to hike the AT initially because he read a story of a guy in his town who hiked it when he was 18. The guy had to ask permission from the board of education in Virginia to graduate high school early in order to hike it, and they told him no, so he quit high school and did it anyways. Otter told us that he read that and it stuck with him, and he made it a goal of his to hike the AT someday. He said it took 35 years, but he always remembered that guy and wanted to do it. Just goes to show that you never know what kind of impact you can have on the people around you! He has been very kind to us and let us come to the Airbnb that he had rented to do laundry and shower when we got into Julian, and we have used the Airbnb as a hangout zone for our whole group yesterday and today, which has been great. After showering and having clean clothes, we almost felt like normal people 😂. In Mt Laguna at mile 42, we showered in a campground bathroom and washed our laundry in the shower like the hiker trash we now are. Real food from a restaurant and a cold drink from a trail angel (people that provide food/drinks/rides to hikers) is also incredible. When you’re living so minimally, the little things are a big deal!

Lastly we have Brandon, who I met on Instagram last year and was also supposed to hike the trail but canceled due to Covid. He ended up getting a permit for this year too and started the day after us (coincidentally he is also a travel nurse). Last night, after hanging out at the Airbnb, We camped behind the Julian Market (they allow PCT hikers to camp there) and Brandon came too. At 5:30 in the morning after just settling back down into his sleeping bag after getting up to pee, he hears a voice say “oh good, you’re up. I really need someone to talk to.” He looks over and sees this strange girl that he doesn’t know (and wasn’t there when we went to bed) who is wrapped up in her sleeping bag. He says “Oh, um..are you ok?” And she says “I have no pants”. And proceeds to tell him that she ripped her hiking shorts and didn’t carry any warm sleeping clothes because they were too heavy. He tells her that she needs to have warm base layers if she is going to continue hiking (and not die) and that she can pick some up at the gear store in town. She tells him that she asked the guy she was hiking with if she could come and cuddle with him and he told her no, so she knocked on some random strangers window at 3 AM and asked for a ride from Mt Laguna to Julian, and the stranger gave her a ride (and luckily didn’t murder her). So that’s how she ended up on that back porch in Julian, possibly staring at Brandon for hours and willing him to wake up to tell him this. Apparently she talked to him for about 45 more minutes and at some point said that she was waiting for her meds to arrive. He said “Maybe you should call your family?” And she said “no way! They’ll freak out” 😬. Landon and I were returning from using the bathroom and we walked right past them, I thought that they knew each other somehow and somehow missed the pleading desperation in Brandon’s eyes to help him in this incredibly awkward 5:30 AM conversation with this random girl. Eventually she ended up going to the pie shop across the street and sitting in there to get warm and charge her phone. Long story short, I really hope that girl is ok, because hiking the PCT is hard enough as it is without having any warm pants. Also, hiking is not a replacement for a support system and therapy. Be safe and get mentally healthy before you hike!!

One last funny story. This morning we were eating at a diner when the waitress came over to take our order. She looked at me hesitantly and said “Um...I’m not sure how to handle this...you have a spider on your hat.” I yelped and threw my hat on the table. She grabbed my hat and took it outside and gently shook it off and de-spidered it for me before bringing it back to me 😥. What a good lady!! Please tell people if they are wearing spiders and help them out. I guess I am just becoming one with nature now.

Anyways, this is long enough, but I just want to say that we’ve had lots of great experiences, seen beautiful scenery, and met awesome people. Even though this is incredibly hard, it’s such a cool adventure and I am loving having a great partner to experience it with me. Hoping my feet are doing better in the next section and that none of my blisters get infected! Our friends helped me shake down my pack today and I was able to get rid of at least a pound in weight. When you carry everything on your back, hips and shoulders, every little ounce makes a difference! Much love to everyone and thanks for the support, it’s been a great first week!

- Joscelyn

P.S. - I’ll post our daily mileage for anyone who is interested

Day 1

Start: Mile 0 Mexican Border

Stop: Mile 11.4

Total: 11.4 miles

Day 2

Start: Mile 11.4

Stop: Mile 26 Boulder Creek Campground

Total: 14.6 miles

Went thru Lake Morena

Day 3

Start: Mile 26 Boulder Creek Campground

Stop: Mile 37.1

Total: 11.1 miles

Elevation gain: about 3k feet 🦶

Day 4

Start: Mile 37.1

Stop: Mile 47.7

Total Mileage: 10.6

Went thru Mt Laguna

Day 5

Start: Mile 47.7

Stop: Mile 63.7

Total: 16 Miles

Day 6

Start: Mile 63.7

Stop: Mile 77

Total: 13.3 Miles

Day 7

Zero Day In Julian

#pct #pctclassof2021 #pct2021 #tuellertrails #hikertrash

[wendyimmiller]

Don’t Give Too Much Away Too Soon – A Letter to the Midwest

April 15, 2021

Lovettsville VA

Dear Scott,

Spring! Etc. etc.

What a relief.  I am torn between feeling overwhelmed each morning, and tearful gratitude. However, finding a new colony of native may apples where I winter-dispatched a thicket of multiflora rose may have soundly tipped the scales towards gratitude. Those mottled, delicate umbrellas took me by total surprise this morning – especially as they appeared to have been professionally underplanted with a carpet of claytonia.

Try not to pay attention to the honeysuckle. It’s a never ending battle.

Isn’t it ridiculous that I can hunt for, locate, plant, and cosset a Podophyllum pleianthum (which is now tentatively emerging near the front door), but when I rip out brambles by the roots and trample the soil to within an inch of its life, suddenly I’ve got April at Mt. Cuba happening on my northern slope?  Perhaps I should give up all future expensive podophyllum acquisition dreams and just focus on what I’m apparently good at: editing. 

My cossetted P. pleianthum – making a late-ish entrance to a party well underway.

I find it fascinating that each spring unfolds with its own unique rhythm – some mellow, others not so. This spring’s rhythm reminds me of an underground prohibition-era bar in NYC I used to visit when I was younger and less protective of my sleep patterns: slow build-up, exciting jazz riffs, a little blues, and no punishing jazz fusion. There has also been plenty of opportunity to sip a top-shelf G&T.  All in all, worth lingering a while in the evenings and ordering a second.

Along with the common-as-dirt may apples I attach a few poor photos of my rapidly growing epimedium collection (minus my two faves – ‘Amber Queen’ and ‘Pink Champagne’ which are just coming out). Watching these delicate flowers emerge thrills me in that same way I used to bemusedly observe in other (more obviously nerdy) plant nerds.

This one was given to me as ‘Lilac Seedling’ from John Willis.

How we find ourselves where we find ourselves I honestly do not know. I was normal once. I assume that, to a certain extent, you were too. Yet here we are, sharing photos of epimedium, claytonia and hellebore while the rest of the world is buying a new Weber and three sacks of Weed and Feed.

Epimedium x versicolor ‘Sulphureum’ is my cheapest and most cheerful. When it is regularly dug and divided you can have a huge carpet rather quickly.

I enjoyed your Easter letter and its tasteless but nonetheless amusing resurrection analogies; but I harbor concerns that illustrating your gargantuan, drain-digging labors in such Kafkaesque detail could be very off-putting for the 20+ million who garden-dabbled in 2020.

I’m not trying to tell you how to do your job as an award-winning garden writer (groan) and purveyor of unending green happiness, but perhaps these people shouldn’t be made so soon aware of the inexorable, destructive effects of the humble water droplet?

Maybe it’s not an issue as 19+ million of them are probably reading The Spruce and haven’t yet moved on to the Rant portion of their gardening lives, but for those who have read ahead in the curriculum, truth of such magnitude could shake a few foundations. And damn that was some serious truth.

We only have these people by the finest of hairs Scott. Right now you should be YouTubing the immeasurable joys of seed starting with a fixed, but generous, smile upon your face and a sponsored product somewhere within arms’ reach.  Let these sweet innocents find out about water, and its revengeful, spiteful nature later in the process when there is no escape from the gardening life they have worthily embraced.  They can learn about roots then too.

Bait and switch my dear. Bait and switch.

This is a sweet little epimedium given to me by Lindie Wilson in Charlotte last year. Glad to see it blooming.

However, as the damage is now done, I will admit that for the rest of us, it is a relief to hear of your suffering. Moreover, it is a relief to hear of you jumping into a job of that magnitude.  I wonder how many others are daily tortured not so much by the undertaking of large home and garden projects, but by their identification and the accompanying dread of them.  I can instantly think of three projects that sink the heart in me, and that’s without trying.

Once stuck in, there are moments of pure despair (as you so richly illustrated), but there is also the knowledge that, for better or worse, you got started.   It’s happening. What is worth worrying about must be solved, and what isn’t disappears into that dark and dangerous place one only visits at 2am (instead of that underground bar – sadly).  All of the ambiguity and worry about the particulars is crystallized into certainty. 

Cannot remember where this one came from – and no name sadly – but it is a lovely orange flower paired with a rather boring leaf.

I wish you luck and less in the way of roots. If this letter had an envelope, I’d slip you one of my precious lidocaine patches – or is that technically drug dealing?

With regards to roots, I have spent much of the last three weeks moving shrubs which are too big for the space where I planted them seven years ago, to spaces which will be too small for them in seven years. 

An SI joint and my lower back have been so dodgy for the last year that I am forced to do this wearing a constricting belt that limits my ability to move without cutting off circulation to a major artery.  The resulting lightheadedness then limits my ability to make better decisions about spacing – or at least that’s how I will look at it in seven years’ time.

It is a blow to one’s vanity to look down and see such a contraption strapped around comfortable and generous sweatpants where levis and leather belts with bronze buckles once dwelt, but if it gets the itea shifted and the lilac finally scrubbed out, I must accept my personal new normal while I undertake a hideous strengthening program that is right, and good, and boring as hell.

Speaking of itea and lilac, one mistake I am never (yes, I use that word precisely) making again is to put a heavily suckering woody shrub anywhere other than an area where I am happy to have it sucker (such as along my streambank).

This cuts down on a lot of options for mixed borders – but there are plenty of less enthusiastic shrubs whose rarer suckers still excite the frugal wench within me.  Runners from my rugosa roses for example. I never grumble as they provide cheap, cheerful, and exceedingly welcome gifts for new gardeners who have never attempted to prune one.

Look at this lovely thing – Iris bucharia blooming this morning through the little gray rosettes of pilosella.

The lilac wasn’t my doing – it was here when we moved, and I have held onto it for sentimental reasons as I had a fondness for the previous owners, Lloyd & Jeanne.  I even called it Lloyd’s lilac, when the truth of the matter is that Lloyd probably didn’t plant it, and if he did, didn’t put any more thought into it than what he was having for dinner that night.  Still, it was one of few cultivated plants on the property, and I felt I must nurture it, renovate it, and tactfully avert my eyes as it became more matronly and less maiden-like.

I trust you will offer me the same consideration when we next meet.

But this is the year. Strengthened by Dan Hinkley’s admonition in Windcliff not to plant a “meaningless blob of nothing to fill a gap” and extrapolating from there to include eradicating those inherited monsters that do the same, I decided to take it out. With my handy battery-operated chainsaw it was the work of an Ibruprofen-laced moment, but now I am faced with this large stump complex. And my back. And another one of those large digging jobs whose contemplation brings me full circle to my points above. 

Yet the job must be done. The space is slated for a Chamaecyparis obtusa that has gracefully grown too large for its current spot. In my defense I always knew it would, but wanted it where it was for that gorgeous five-year window of perfect height. You are a lover of trees so I know you know exactly what I am talking about.  Trees go from small-and-helpless, to perfect, to too-damn-big the same way as children do – though thankfully they don’t have adolescent mouths on them.  

Lastly, with the exception of the bananas, the tropicals are out of the garage and into hacked-together temporary cold frames for the next couple weeks. The spring has crept up on me quickly this year. And with the vegetable/kitchen garden undergoing a major re-do which will most likely take all season, I have not started seeds as I normally would. 

It is exceptionally freeing and I highly recommend it. 

I cannot get enough of this time of year once the claytonia start blooming. They are absolutely everywhere.

I have started many thousands of seeds over the years and I’m sure there are thousands more in my future, but I realize these days that I actually prefer the excitement of cuttings.  It’s ironic to get excited about asexual techniques, but there you go, that’s middle age for you. Are you a seeds or a cuttings man do you think? You may answer freely – I promise that I won’t draw any moral conclusions (at least consciously).

Here is an unusual one (at least for around here) that sports pink flowers, rather than just pink veining and pink pollen.

I must stop before some horrible dystopian software alerts you that this letter is more than a “four minute read,” (thank God Tolkien and Tolstoy weren’t bloggers), but before I do, I can assure you that, yes, the word used to describe you in that email was indeed ‘treasure.’ The term has even been repeated and shared on Facebook, and therefore cannot possibly be considered misinformation, as apparently, they’ve got that sort of thing squarely locked down.

However, before you alert various media companies, shamelessly looking for yet another award (and you wonder why someone at work is being mean to you), I will pass on a wise bit of advice that I heard recently:

If you don’t let compliments go to your head, insults cannot pierce your heart. 

Wise indeed as there is usually a hefty supply of the latter to negotiate in this life.

Yours,

Marianne

P.S.  Please tell Michele she looked beautiful in that dress. Easter personified.

P.P.S.  My long overdue author copies of Tropical Plants and How to Love Them finally arrived today!              It’s a treasure. Possibly award-winning.

Don’t Give Too Much Away Too Soon – A Letter to the Midwest originally appeared on GardenRant on April 15, 2021.

The post Don’t Give Too Much Away Too Soon – A Letter to the Midwest appeared first on GardenRant.

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[bunny-wk-fanfic]

hey I saw your requests are open, I'm sorry to bother you if they are not rip. But if they are, could you do a Apollo (greek mythology)x Kagome or a sequel of Lucifer(Spn)x Kagome one? thank you ^^

Decided to go with Apollo on this one, hope you enjoy it!

She wasn’t sure how she came to be where she was, she figured it had to do with the collective energy in the Shikon, fighting Naraku, and perhaps the Well, but somehow, Kagome found herself in ancient Greece. As in, the sort of ancient that was often on display in a museum, learned in textbooks in a classroom, or from documentaries. Yet, she was lucky enough to get to live through ancient history. Again!

Strolling through the streets, it was easy to see that there was a festival of some kind going on, but of course, her ancient Greek was rusty. Better said was non-existent. But, that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the festivities. At current, she was nibbling on some sort of flatbread, not the tastiest, but beggars can’t picky. And she did not want to start in the fashion.

It was obvious that she couldn’t walk around in her old clothing, talking about culture shock right there. And since this was a different country, there was no telling how a different culture would react to not only her strange physical appearance, but her clothing wouldn’t help either. So she wore what she thought she recalled the merchant called a chiton, it was simplistic, a little flowy for her tastes, but allowed for free movement.

“Are you here for the festival?” a strange voice spoke up, drawing her attention away from the group of cheerful children.

Blinking blue eyes, she took in the male before her. His olive complexion seemed to glow in the sun, his hair a golden halo, while his eyes flickered between golden hazel, blue, and green. It was hard to tell if it was a trick of the light, or if he had all colors in his eyes.

Shaking off the odd feeling that suddenly washed over her, Kagome shook her head with a smile. “Ah, sadly, no. Just passing through.” her hand was quick to reach up and hold down her hair when a gust of wind blew through, no need to whip the male in the face with her hair.

“Ah.” he gave a nod of his head, apparently disappointed with her reply. “May I ask, what that song was just now?”

Blinking, Kagome furrowed her brows wondering what he was talking about. “Song?”

He instantly began to hum a tune, one Kagome hadn’t even realized that she had done the same thing earlier. It was almost eerie that he wasn’t in the least off key for any part.

“Oh, it’s a song from my home. Something children used to sing.” she didn’t bother bringing up it was a creepy song that the children that lived at the base of Mt. Hakurei. It had a way of getting stuck in her head because it of how simple the song was.

“Your home?” his gaze wandered over the villagers before settling on her once again. “Where exactly is your home?”

Blue eyes lowered as a distant smile lifted her cheeks. “Far… far, far away from here. To the east. So much so, it’s referred to as ‘The land of the rising sun’.”

“Interesting.” his tone seemed odd at that comment, drawing Kagome’s immediate attention.

Her brows furrowed as she took half a step away from the male, and his rising aura. It took everything in her not to flinch when he raised a hand to tuck some errant stray strands of her hair back behind her ear, his hand lingering rather than pulling away.

“Is…” she swallowed thickly, feeling like she had just been cornered by… she didn’t know what yet, but they were obviously more powerful than she had initially thought. “Is there something… wrong?”

“It was your light that drew me in.” his hand trailed down her neck, fingers tracing along her collarbone. “How brightly it shines, unlike any other mortal I’ve crossed paths with.”

Kagome was instantly on alert, instincts ready for a fight or flight response. It was one thing to be in the presence of someone more powerful than her, but to be outright called a mortal meant there were only so many options for what he could possibly be. Swallowing thickly, she attempted to take half a step back. “You’re a god.”

His smile was bright, impossibly so, his tanned skin glowing as his wreath crown seemed to flourish and bloom. “That I am, the god Apollo!”

Kagome whimpered, now understanding. While not one of her gods, she still sensed his godly status. As such, she was a priestess and being in the presence of a god, regardless of them being from a different pantheon, left her feeling… odd. Still, Mama raised her right, manners included. She had begun to bow in respect to him when his hands gripped her shoulders.

“No!” his voice was strong, smile bright as he righted her back to standing her full height, which was nothing compared to him. “One such as you should not bow to me!”

“…” her gaze shifted to the side. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she finally managed to speak up. “…but… I thought… gods wanted people to bow to them?” something about lower beings prostrating themselves before gods gave them energy or something similar from something she heard or read. It was a belief back in Japan, that it was the peoples’ energy that gave the gods their powers, she wasn’t sure if that was universal.

She was confused and ready to move on as she fought with herself to do as a holy person was supposed to a worship him. It was not a fun situation and she was sure she could feel a headache coming on.

“True, but one that shines as brightly as you…” a hand rose to cup her cheek, his touch warm against her skin. “No. You should stand at my side.”

Blinking, Kagome was once again floored. “Is… Is this some sort of marriage proposal?” she prayed it wasn’t, she lost count of how many of those she had received.

He hummed, caressing her hair as he stepped closer. “I never thought of having a wife before, I have had many lovers… but I do believe having a wife would be wonderful, and you are rather exquisite.”

Chuckling nervously, Kagome took half a step back. “As… um, as honored as I am to hear you say such… I uh… that is to say… I don’t think I deserve… such a, uh… gift?” she had no idea what exactly to say. Was there a way to turn down a god that didn’t involve death or divine intervention? There was no telling how he would react to rejection, especially from a human, regardless of her differences from the normal people of the village they were currently in.

He blinked a few times, his smile returning. “So modesty!” he cooed even pressing a kiss to her brow. “You are deserving of the place at my side…” he trailed off as he once again caressed her hair.

Another nervous laugh escaped her, was she going to be blunt and brutally honest? It was such a high risk to her health though… She was about to say something again in terms of turning him down, in simpler terms, when a new voice interrupted her before she could even start.

“Ah, Miss! So Glad you’re still here!” a man was approaching them, a young boy at his side carrying a largely wrapped bundle in his arms. “I- We wanted to give you proper thanks for saving my son.”

Kagome smiled as she shook her head, turning her attention to the two completely. “I was just glad I was in the right place at the right time.” she crouched down to get the boy’s height. “Next time you want to join the others, bring a fallen branch about your size. It’ll help keep you afloat until you know how to swim.” she patted his head with a smile, it grew at his blush and his attempt to hide behind the bundle he was carrying.

“As kind as it is of you to say such, we still feel it is only proper to give you our thanks.” he nudged his son forward. “Go on, give her your gift.”

The boy stumbled forward, arms thrust out as he attempted to keep he gave away from her. “Th-thank you, for saving me.”

Kagome accepted the bundle with a smile, pulling the cover back as she stood back up. She paused at the bow and quiver of arrows that laid within. “Oh!” her gaze instantly flicked up to the father. “This is too much!” she could see the quality was rather, well, expensive.

“Nonsense. For saving the life of my son, there is no price too high to pay.” his gaze turned to Apollo when he moved to stand next to Kagome, not seeing him for the god he was. “She breathed life back into my son after he fell in the water.”

Apollo eyed her once again, once again eyes full of appraising light as he stared down at her. Swallowing thickly, she threw the father and son another smile as she gave her thanks for their generous gift. “Again, thank you.”

The father gave a nod of his head, a parting farewell with hopes of seeing her later during the festival as they finally parted. Kagome pursed her lips when she was once again left alone with Apollo, Kagome felt the awkwardness returned, for her at least. “Well… this was… interesting, but I feel I must be going along now.”

“Go? Where are you planning on going?” he was quick to follow in step with her, watching her swing the bow and quiver over her shoulders with a practiced ease that spoke of her familiarity with the weapon.

“I did say I was passing through. My home is to the ease, so that’s where I’m going.” she was trying to maintain a polite manner, picking up speed was something she was trying to fight from doing. Didn’t want to come off as rude.

“Oh, but you could stay a while!” he was suddenly before her in a graceful move. “It would be my honor to truly get to know you.”

Pausing, Kagome eyed the god, wondering and weighing his words. “I can leave whenever I want, should I decide to stay?” her lips pursed when he nodded his head. “And you won’t try to force or trick me into being your lover or wife?” he was a little more hesitant, but finally agreed. “Then I wouldn’t mind extending my stay in your land.”

The smile he gave her had her giving him one in return. What was another new adventure? Besides, she had a god to play tour guide for her, she was looking forward to the next little while.

#prompts #fanfiction #alternative universe #Greek Mythology #Apollo #Kagome Higurashi

[the-green-haired-fellow]

Home again Jerome X Reader

I held her weak pale hand in mine. It had been a year, four months, eleven days, 5 hours and 21 seconds since I saw her last. When she saw me her pink lips muttered something like “Jerome I can-” I shushed her by putting my finger on her lips taking in how odd it felt to move my fingers and said “I’m back baby” then WHAM she was out like a light. 

….

I was walking a crossed the street to get into mt apartment. He was standing there smiling widely his arms stretched out. My heart did a somersault in my chest- he was real in front of me. Pale skin, red hair, dashing smile. I tried to say something but my mouth jumbled around trying to say what it’s wanted to say for a year now. Then he touched his finger to my lips , his sweet voice flooding my auditory canal, it felt like I was  in.. heaven.. my skin shivered but unfortunately my mortal body couldn’t handle it and I passed out. I awoke in his arms still in the cold wet streets welcomed by his warm smile. “Hey there” he said I relished in the sound of his voice replying weakly. “Hey” My eyes studied him, his face was seemingly being held in place by staples having been cut off my some wanna-be, at least that was the last I heard.. “Did ya miss me?” he said breaking my concentration. “ Not even a little bit” I said holding back pathetic tears. He smiled at my answer seeming to be pleased. Never would he dare say ‘I missed you too’ back to me but I could tell by the way his eyes mapped over my face and body over and over again just as I was doing to him, taking in every detail like it would the last time they would be seen. Our eyes met and I took the opportunity to lean forward and connect our lips. At first his excitement got the best of him and he began to move his lips quickly underneath mine, his heart beating one million miles an hour 

“Uh boss?” a nervous man said. Jerome looked up at him with a snarl. “Uh what? Can’t you see that I am busy here?” I looked up at the voice. He was a young thug wearing a grey beeny his nervous brown eyes darting back and forth. “Here’s all the info on Bruce Wayne can I go?” Jerome looked down at me smiling. “I’m sorry my dear this is embarrassing.” he stood up ripping the paper out of the man’s hand. The guy jumped back nervously being met by Jerome’s glare. “Now scram” The guy nodded frantically taking off down the trashed streets of Gotham “How charming are you?” I said standing up feeling little shivers run up and down my spine it had been raining for the past three days, an unusual weather pattern for the city. Jerome smiled skipping happily to my side. “Very. Shall we go?” he stuck out his hands motioning to my apartment. I intertwined our fingers glad to have him back. I looked at him as we walked, even though his face was hanging on by a thread… well a few staples and his smile was a little tight around his mouth he looked great, maybe even a little better than before he looked more- “Stop staring at me creep” I heard him say. 

Embarrassed I looked away focusing on getting to the door before him. “I mean don’t get me wrong I’m flattered” He quickened his pace in attempt to keep up with me tripping on the curb on the sidewalk, falling nicely into a puddle of dirty rain water. I smiled fishing my keys out of my back pocket. “What were you saying hot-shot?” I yelled back at him. Behind me I could hear the squish of his water filled shoes. Laughing I unlocked the three deadbolts on the door pushing it open. “Yeah yeah yeah. Laugh it up” he growled. stepping into my darkened studio. Curiously he wandered around leaving little puddles of water on the wood floor, flicking the various cactus I had placed around.  I had gotten it a little after Jerome had… died? In an attempt at a normal life, even going as far as to painting the walls a nice blue along with buying all new furniture and decorations.. It had been a very sad year. 

The lonely feeling I had before crept back into my mind and I was plagued with memories of crying myself to sleep at night and staring blankly at the wall in the shower the alarm on my phone wailing. I shook my head setting my keys on the kitchen counter. Jerome had wandered into the bathroom and was toying with my night light. Slowly I walked into the bathroom afraid he wouldn’t be there. “Why the long face doll??” I smiled relieved to see his face. “Nothing” I smiled “I’m going to shower.. Do you want to join?”  He looked at me his green eyes blinking blankly. “Oh yeah I forgot” I said my cheeks turning red. I opened the orange shower curtain starting up the water. “You forgot what?” He said oddly. I furrowed my eyebrows looking at him confused sticking my hand under the beam of water. “Your face Jerome” Everything went quiet for a second like he was in deep thought. “My face?” he looked into the mirror jumping back suddenly. “Oh my god my face!” Startled by his reaction my mind began to race trying to comprehend how he hadn’t noticed the staples sticking into his head. “You didn’t know?!?” I blurted out “How could you not have noticed?” He dropped his head into his hands making a low whining noise like he was… sobbing? I stroked his back gently a little weirded out that he was crying. “I’m sorry Jerome I didn’t know” 

He looked up at me suddenly a shit- eating grin a crossed his face. “I’m just kidding doll” He chuckled. I stared at him in disbelief “Wha-” he shushed me putting his hands over my lips. “So about that shower?” he said walking around me to test the water with his hand. Pleased he looked back at me. “Hey why are your clothes still on?” I laughed taking my shirt off and undoing my bra knowing I should be used to his tricks. His eyes widened with his smile . I made a disgusted face at him taking off my pants and shoving them in his face. “What are you looking at creep” echoing his own words back to him. Smoothly I dropped my panties at his feet, he took my pants off of his head and looked down at the lacey pink fabric then to me. I winked at him getting into the shower. “God it’s good to be alive.” he said before mauling me with kisses.

Thanks for reading :) More to come Same-Bat-Time Same Bat-Channel. Also just a reminder if you have a problem with things not being cannon, in my fanfictions as well as others shut your mouth and deal with it. It’s a fanfiction the author has the freedom to write whatever they want in their stories also a majority of the stories aren’t technically cannon to begin with. It’s really annoying to me as well as other writers to have their work criticized (Criticism is good when it’s CONSTRUCTIVE)  by some know-it-all who is only doing it to be hurtful. We work hard on our pieces so bring your negativity elsewhere. 

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#jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska #gotham fanfiction #gotham #joker x reader #jerome fanfic #jerome valeska fanfiction