#rumble is pretty chill about his new siblings they not his first new sibling that were made out of a autobot

[skelanonymous]

Killermare - Little Moon

Very brief setup. Made in an AU where Dream defeats Nightmare and becomes god of both positivity and negativity, but Nightmare barely lives. He’s close to mortal (uncorrupted) and living alone in a random AU, but bad guys squad finds him and just chill a lot since they all realized that they might be the only friends they had. Established Killermare.

Words: 1.3k

---

“What’s up Nightlight?” Killer closed the door behind him. He’d re-picked up the habit pretty quickly when the rest of the guys started making themselves at home in the small house. Nightmare sat at the edge of the bed, leaning back on his arms. His face was flushed purple, very nervous and opposite of his body language. It was amazing how much the corruption had hid or eradicated in his boyfriend.

“I wanted to speak with you alone.” His voice was soft, not the piercing presence of a king, not the sharp but clear voice audible at every volume. This felt close, private. Nightmare’s less aggressive side was new to all of them. 

“Well you got my attention. Not that you don’t have it all the time anyway.” Killer’s smile climbed into something sly. He cupped a purple cheek in his right hand, the curve of Night’s hip in his left. His thumb rubbed softly into the ecto he could feel underneath (he’d gotten a peek when Nightmare had leaned back, a thin line of purple barely visible under his clothes), wondering why he was summoned when this didn’t feel like that kind of night. “So what’s up Boss?” 

He laughed at Nightmare’s annoyed pout. He leaned in to kiss it happily. His hand tilted back Night’s head, mouth opening to deepen the little kiss, though he didn’t delve too deep. Killer wouldn’t be able to stop if he got too far.

“I told you not to call me that.” Nightmare’s eyes wouldn’t meet his. “I’m not the boss of any of you anymore. I have nothing but my life, and barely that.” His hands rested at the base of his hood, playing with the strings to tighten it. “I don’t want you to think of me as some lord you must obey. Especially not now.”

Killer pushed him back, hovering over his body. He pinned Night with just his stare.

“I obey you when I want to. Nothin’ more, nothin’ less. You just happen to be a little more...academic than me.” Not smart, never smart. He and Dust both had a long life full of planning and killing. Dust had him beat in pure power, but his head was screwed on a little tighter and that edge made a lot of difference. He could plan, but the long overarching consequences of actions were more Nightmare’s game.

Night still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I know I make you speechless, but this is unusual even for you.” Killer leaned down to kiss the curve of Nightmare’s neck. “It’s almost like you’re scared.” He whispered it along the bones, the tiny gasp flaring up the heat in Killer’s body.

“I am.”

That drew Killer up to look Nightmare in the face. He could see tears building in his eyes, the first one sliding over an ivory cheek.

The idea of Nightmare being terrified of anything besides one of their own being killed struck him as novel, interesting. Part of him wanted to tease him. The other part, the louder part that gathered Nightmare into his arms for comfort, knew that if it was this upsetting, it was worth him worrying over as well.

“Ain’t nothing taking you from me. And the guys won’t leave. We’ve all gotten used to each other’s weirdness. The rest is small potatoes. Nothing to worry about, no matter what you’re gunna say.”

Nightmare’s legs drew up, trying to curl into a ball in Killer’s arms, so he adjusted to a bridal carry to let him wind in on himself, but still solidly in his grasp. He laid his head against Killer’s arm, and Killer could hear the softest of sobs. He didn’t know if Night always cried this softly or if he was putting on a braver face even in this form. He wasn’t prepared for when his moon looked up at him.

Wide teary eyes, face streaked in lavender trails, brows drawn together in sorrow, and a pained frown, but still on the cutest face he’d ever seen. He’d stared so hard he almost didn’t absorb what Night said.

“I’m pregnant.”

His body reacted on a five second delay. What? His head tilted, eyes squinting in confusion. He was pregnant? I mean, okay, that’s odd, but...wait, how did he…? Had he cheated on him? No, his moon would never. But that meant…

“It’s mine?” His voice sounded a million miles away. Nightmare turned away, a little huff of anger.

“Who else’s would it be?” He curled up tighter in Killer’s grasp. “In even my worst case scenarios, I thought you’d at least know that.” Killer’s face still hadn’t changed from confusion. “Do you think I was SLEEPING AROU-” Nightmare squeaked when his legs were dropped, a hand sliding up from his pelvis.

Killer caught the hem of Nightmare’s shirt with his thumb, dragging it up along the smooth purple ecto. He pushed it as far as it would go before his vision refocused.

A very tiny souling floated in the center of him, a bit below Nightmare’s apple soul. It vibrated when Killer laid his hand over the tiny heart.

This was real. Nightmare was carrying his baby, a little soul made of just them.

“Holy shit.” That was all his brain could think to say. Killer laid Nightmare back on the bed, climbing over him again, stopping his face just above his stomach. He put his head down right over the souling. He could feel the little life pulsing under his skull, and his own eyes had already started to leak red laying there. Killer’s brain only came to under Nightmare’s hand cradling his skull. 

“Are you alright?” Killer’s hand laid over Night’s, turning himself over to gently kiss the back of Nightmare’s hand. He left a trail of kisses up his entire arm until he’d reached bright purple cheeks, and then he kissed all over his face. By the time he’d softly kissed his mouth, Nightmare was already crying and clinging to his hoodie. Killer’s tongue slowly tangled with Night’s. The dragging of one over the other sparked soft groans from both, Killer’s hands caught between cradling Nightmare’s face and his child. 

“Moon.” He couldn’t move away. His universe had its center, hopelessly trapped in his moon’s orbit until his dying breath. For just a moment, the world ceased to be, held in existence solely by the gravity of his devotion.

“Soul.” God, he’d trade his away with just a word from that smile. He’d been willing to die for just a glance from those violet eyes, the same ones that now never left his side. He kissed each eyelid.

“I love you.” They’d slipped out, straight from the depths of his heart. 

“I love you too, my darling Soul.” He felt a finger trace the edges, Nightmare’s fingers so wonderful over his heart. “I...I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. We’ve never talked about children.” Killer’s eyes slipped shut under the attention.

“I had a really bad time with the human one, but if it’s half you, then I’m already in love with ‘em.” He opened them again when Nightmare sniffled. His poor moon had started to cry again. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make ya cry.” He quickly clanked over each of Night’s falling tears until he heard a laugh under the sobs.

“They’re happy tears Soul. No need to apologize.” He captured Killer’s mouth in a kiss. When they could breathe again, Killer rolled them onto their sides, burying his face into Nightmare’s chest and pulling him close.

“Got any names thought up Nightlight?” He purred into Night’s sternum when the other massaged his skull.

“I hadn’t the time, I was too worried about what you’d say.” 

“Told ya, ain’t nothing taking ya from me. Mmmm, do you know of any little moons out there?” He could feel a chuckle rumble up from Night’s chest.

“Plenty come to mind. I hadn’t considered them…”Killer felt the hands on his head still. Nightmare breathed out softly.

“Deimos.”

---------

Deimos is a god of dread, but also Mars’ tiny moon. It also leaves Phobos as a sibling should Night have one.

#killermare #nightkiller #sanscest #sfw #story time

[meenah-chan]

Quintessence

A Lucifer x MC’s Over-protective! Sister fanfic

4.45k words

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warnings: mentions violence, self-inflictions; Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 1: click here

Chapter 3: click here

"Is this a some sort of punishment?"

"You're really lucky... I am quite jealous, if I may say."

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

With the noisy, yellow demon unconscious, the only sound on their way to House of Lamentation is MC's periodic yawns from the lack of night's sleep and the rumbling wheels of their suitcase on an empty road.

"We're here! Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone. They should be in the dining room right now." Starting to feel the exhaustion she's been holding back since meeting the other-worldly creatures, Alexandria let her sister half-drag her off to somewhere.

"I'm home!" Pulling her to a room, the first thing she saw is a large dining table filled with food and... Five more demons. Five male demons.

"MC, we're leaving." She tugged on the female's hand, still attached on her own, but in turn resisted her slight force.

"What? No, we won't." The teen raised an eyebrow from her sudden demeanor.

"MC!! I MISS YOU!!" A brown-haired guy came rushing towards their direction with open arms. Yet, before he could even latch his arms around the girl, Alexandria pulled her away, causing the male to hug nothing but air.

"MC! Why did you avoid— Huh?"

"MC, w–who is she?" A purple-haired tensely asked, anxious of the stranger in their home.

"She's my sister—"

"Ahhh!!" Alexandria and MC flinched from the sudden outburst of the man who came running at them moments ago, which caught her off-guard.

Suddenly, her hand was yanked away from her little sister's grasp and was held a few centimeters to the demon's eyes.

"Wha... such a..." He then stretched the said arm out and tenderly stroke it up her shoulder, "What a flawless, plump, porcelain skin..." then let go and cupped her cheeks with both hands.

"Such a refined beauty. But wait..." The male narrowed his eyes for a second, "Are you not sleeping well? Your face is a tee~ny bit dry and a bit of bag under your eyes." The demon gave her a sad pout.

"I usually appreciate such flattery. However, right now, I can only sense it as an assault from a stranger I just met. So will you please refrain from your harassment?" Regaining her composure, she snapped at him.

"Asmodeus, stop harassing our guest unless you wanted punishment." Asmodeus instantly raised both his hands up from the domineering voice on the doorway. Lucifer appeared with a beat Mammon.

"Whoopsy! My bad. What a rude way to greet a wonderful guest such as yourself." Asmodeus sends her a wink before returning to his seat.

"MC, will you introduce her to everyone."

"Hmm! Everyone, meet my sister, Alexa! Due to certain circumstances, she'll be staying here with us all throughout my stay here."

"Pleased to meet all of you. I'm Alexandria Evergreen, MC's older sister. I'm here to watch over her. I hope to have a conflict-free relationship with everyone."

"No, the pleasure is ours." A blonde-haired man replied, "I'm Satan, the fourth eldest. I maybe the Avatar of Wrath but I assure you, I'm the nicest and most logical person here." But her instinct says otherwise as she felt an odd atmosphere around the green-eyed man.

"Bush e'shi, shoo shais shoo hamp 'o shibi." Her eyes travelled to the oranged-haired man who seemed to be emptying the table stuffing himself.

"Beel, you shouldn't talk while chewing." A drowsy, navy blue-haired guy yawns beside him. "MC, he means you said you have no siblings." He rubbed his eyes before turning his attention to the older sister. "Hello, I'm Belphegor, Beelzebub's twin and the youngest. I'm also the Avatar of Sloth. This guy beside me is Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony and the sixth oldest." The scarfing guy nods and she returned the gesture.

"Oh that? Yes, I don't have one back then, but our parents got married a few weeks ago. We're originally childhood friends."

"WoOAAAHH~!! That's just like the anime 'My Dearest Childhood Friend became my Sister after our Parents got Married but now the Aliens Invaded the Earth so We Became Heroes and Stop the End of the World!!' and that is really LIT!!" The demon, whom she thought was timid a while ago, squealed in one breathe, and it certainly caught her by surprise.

"That noisy one is Levi." MC sweatdropped.

"I'm Leviathan, the third oldest and the Avatar of Envy."

"And don't forget about the sweet and charming Asmodeus here~~ I'm the fifth eldest and the Avatar of Lust. You can call me Asmo-chan~~" he winked for the second time.

Yet contrary to his positive attitude, Alexandria cocked an eyebrow. "So you mean..." Her gaze followed Mammon wobbling to the table. "That crook right there is the second oldest?"

His head snapped at her. "Oi! Gotta problem if I'm the second oldest?"

"Yeah, in more ways than one." She curtly replied. "So, if you're the Avatar of Greed, you being a crook does make sense."

"Oi! You don't have to say it twice!"

Ignoring Mammon, she faced the oldest. "And you're the Avatar of Pride, I suppose?"

"Yes, and let me properly introduce myself to you." He placed a palm above his chest. "I'm Lucifer, the oldest of the seven brothers and the Avatar of Pride. I'm the one who leads this household and tend to all of these problem children." Satan, Mammon and Belphegor glared daggers towards him.

"Ha! More importantly, I have a juicy piece of news to you guys." Mammon grinned which alerted Lucifer.

"Not a word Mammon."

"'Ya see, that's no normal human right there. A few hours ago, she just made THE Lucifer on his knees and tied him in a pact with her."

The five brothers' eyes popped out of their skulls and jaws dropped. Even Beel almost choked.

"Pact... you say?" 5 pairs of eyes darted between a grinning Mammon, a displeased Lucifer and the new female.

"You're right. She's not an ordinary human but let me clear two things." The menacing red-eyed demon crossed his arms and raised his chin. "The only one on his knees, or rather, on his back is none other than you Mammon. You're the one knocked out after just three blows from her. You're also the one who caused this series of unfortunate events... Don't ever think I'm done with your punishment yet."

"Eek!" Making shrieked and cowered in fear.

"Wait– She what? I know Mammon is weak but, she really knock him out with three blows??" Asmodeus exclaimed.

"Are you really sure she's a human?" Satan added.

Although Beelzebub is also shocked, his brows twitched in realization, glancing at the two female. "MC, Miss Alexandria, you probably haven't eaten anything yet. You should eat."

"I think I'll pass. I'll get some shut-eye first." MC awkwardly laughed. Beel is pretty amazing in his own way...

"I thank you for the offer, but I also needed some rest." She slightly smiled.

Lucifer stepped closer beside her. "If that's the case, then you should stay in MC's room for now. Mammon will clean the room beside MC's for your use later."

Glancing at the oldest, she shook her head. "Providing a room for me is more than enough. I can tend to it just fine. And I can't impose to you anymore than I already did."

"But you're a guest. It's only natural for us to ensure you'll have a great time staying here."

"But I insist. And I'm not a guest. I'm the one who made my way here so it's only natural for me to help here in exchange for my stay." She paused as she crossed her arms. "Unless, freeloading is a thing here. That'll be bad, for encouraging irresponsibility and decadence."

"..." Lucifer speechlessly furrowed his brows.

Seven pairs of eyes were both shocked and amazed to see someone actually have the guts to run their mouth against one of the strongest demon in their realm without breaking a sweat.

"She really is not a human. There's no way a human can stand her ground against Lucifer." Asmodeus gaped.

"Or maybe she's just clueless of Lucifer's true power... Though I could use her help to mess with him." Belphegor and Satan snickers at the same time as if having the very same thought.

"To not even have the natural instinct to flee from danger is just dumb." Alexandria ominously glance towards Belphegor, Satan and Leviathan, causing a chill run down their spine.

"Then please excuse us. MC shall be my guide." Drawing back, she bowed towards Lucifer and the others before pulling MC and their luggage out of the dining room.

"MC... I must say, our time here will be anything but harmonious..." The older sister sighed.

"But I'm sure you'll have fun. There's no boring times here" MC just laughed awkwardly.

"Oh well, all I want is a peaceful time you. Even an hour or two a day would be nice."

-----

Forget their peaceful time, getting along with most of the brothers is hard, except Beel who is too nice to her to be considered a bother. All the other brothers do was try to steal MC away.

Well, Asmodeus is an exception. He's not trying to take MC away. He's trying take both of them away for his beauty and night out shenanigans.

A few days have passed, and she was also made into a student to be with MC as much as possible.

"Hey Alexa-chan, I'm just wondering... Is there anything you can't do? At this rate you'll end up stealing MC's heart faster than any of us. You're too dreamy, you might as well take her as your bride." Asmodeus pouts as he lazily pokes through his steak Alexandria prepared for dinner.

"O–Oi! The hell are you saying, Asmo?" A flustered Mammon yelled, sitting beside MC.

The older female sighed and glance at Asmodeus, sitting beside her. "Just eat Asmodeus, you're just hungry. And I told you to not call me Alexa."

"But aren't I right? You're so in love with her enough to follow her here. And you're not really her sister by blood, so it's possible."

"If I told you, you and Mammon look good together, you should marry each other, what would you feel?"

"Eww! That's the grossest thing I ever heard." He stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"She really hates you, lololol." Levi snickers at Mammon, sitting across him.

Mammon narrowed his eyes at him, tapping his knife on his plate.

"I never saw this child that way. I'm more like a mother to her more than anything." She points to the 'child' next to her, too busy stuffing her face with the food to notice she is the topic on the table. "Saying that, I didn't protect that child just to fall for any demon."

"Aww... And I thought it'll also be interesting if there's that kind of plot twist." Asmodeus look down, only to find his plate empty. "Hey! Beel, give me back my steak!" His eyes darts across him, towards the orange demon chewing happily.

"I thought you don't want it anymore so I ate it." He smiled innocently as Belphegor and Satan laughed in amusement, witnessing the whole theft.

Alexandria glance around the room, searching for a certain person she haven't seen since yesterday night. "By the way, where's Lucifer?"

"He's probably still in his study, it's the time of the month he have tons of work to do." Satan replied.

"He'll probably coop himself until tomorrow or the day after." Belphegor added, finishing his meal.

She gave a second glance in the table, void of any trace of any food left, sweeping to the also empty plate of her sister.

"Hmm... MC did you eat well?"

"Yes! I really missed your steak!" The teen beamed at her, having a drop of sauce on her lips.

"What am I gonna do with you." She giggled as she wipe the stain off. "Come on, you should rest for the night."

After sending her to her room, Alexandria strolls towards the kitchen and left with a tray on hand, walking towards the library.

She passed by the tall shelfs with several missing books of all sorts of fields. Going further in, she knocked on the door inside the library.

"It's Alexandria, I brought you something." Hearing no response, she let herself in.

The first thing that attract her eyes is the tall pile of paper wall on the table and the male who is almost hidden by it, black circles around his eyes.

"Are you still alive?" Lucifer's flipped towards her, finally noticing her presence.

"Ohh, it's you. What do you want?"

"You probably haven't eaten anything since this morning. I brought you some sandwiches and fruit shake." She set the tray down the small table in the middle of the room and took the plate of sandwiches and the large cup of fruit shake, moving towards Lucifer's study table.

"Here, taking a breather won't hurt." Red orbs darted between the plate, the cup and her face before reluctantly taking it after a sigh and setting it down the free space is the table.

"This is a nice study. It's cozier than mine back in human world."

"What's your deal?"

"Well, I like the fireplace. I can't have one in my apartment."

"If you need nothing, then leave. I don't have time to waste."

"Yeah, I need to do something." She took a few leaves of paper from the desk and scan through it. "Hmm... I see... As expected..."

"What is it you need to do?" Lucifer raised his eyebrow.

"I'll help you with this papers. With us two, we can finish it by morning."

"Hmmp! There's no way I'll let a human mess with the financial statements of the Devildom."

"If it's about the difference of terms and flow of currency, then I have already studied about it."

"...Huh? How..." The demon suddenly remembered the several books missing from the library's shelf. "Ahh... But then, how did you learn how to read our language?" His brows furrowed.

"There's no way I could have extensive knowledge about pacts and such if I can't read the original texts about it."

The lady in front of him never failed to impress him. And yet, "The answer is still a no." Stoic expression returned his face.

"Then let me rephrase it. My master is having a hard time," Lucifer almost slip out of his chair from her words. "...and I can do something about it, so I want help however I can."

"Did you just say 'Master'?"

"Yeah, based on our contract, you're technically my master. Though you can't take advantage of me, which is a good thing..."

Lucifer wouldn't admit it. He can't admit it. But being called master by this capable human who always amaze him has stroked his ego more than he could ever felt from anyone, he can't even stop himself from grinning.

"You really know your way with words. But don't get me wrong. I only allowed you because you've went so far just to do what you want." A smile was also plastered on her face.

"Yes Master Lucifer, if you say so." She chuckled a bit before taking the papers Lucifer choose for her to do.

Sharing a few conversation while working, they really did finish by morning as she predicted.

------

"Alexa, why aren't you in your room? Did you woke up early?"

"Yeah, something like that." With a bit of sleepiness clouding her head, Alexandria chose to eat light breakfast before taking a rest. Good thing it's weekend.

MC moved her attention at the demon on the end of the table. "Lucifer, it's really unusual. You've finished quite early."

"I just discovered a breather had been rather helpful." He stealthly stole a quick glance towards the lady busy eating her food.

The only sound on the table after that is a few yawns— from the usual sleepy Belphegor; and Leviathan and Mammon, probably from overnight gaming marathon they could never finish tonight as Lucifer is out of his confinement.

Everyone has their own world when Alexandria breaks the silence.

"MC, you told me you're hanging out with Mammon and Asmodeus today, right?" She place down her utensils as the girl glance at her.

"Yeah, we're going to shop some clothes on Majolish. Why? You're coming anyways, aren't you?"

"No. I have some business today, but I'll leave you to Beel. Is it alright with you Beel?" She scan the face of the food-loving demon whom just finished his food.

"I don't mind." He smiled softly.

"Thank you. Please do bring her safe and I'll treat you to Madam Scream's of anything you want."

"Madam Scream's...? Really? With anything I want?" Beel's eyes sparkles as drool pools down his empty plate.

She gave him a broad smile. "Yes, anything."

"Alexa, you probably don't know what you're saying. Beel will definitely bust your pocket in no time." Belphegor yawns as he took a bite on his toast.

"But I'm aware of Beel's appetite. Let's just say I'm loaded enough to feed 10 Beels for at least 1 month." She swiped a black card in air with her middle and index finger.

"Hey... Is that..." Satan raised an eyebrow.

"WOAHH!! The legendary black card! Imagine how many Ruri-chan collectibles and games I could buy with that." Sleepiness flushes out of Leviathan's system as he stared at the black card.

"Can feed... 10 Beels..." The sixth-born's drool intensifies.

"Hmm? When did you get one? You should've just asked me to process it for you." A surprised but rather unfazed Lucifer asked.

"I told you I don't want to be a bother. Though I admit getting one is not an easy task."

"Hey Alexa-chan. Are you sure you don't wanna join us shopping?" The fourth-born playfully twist her bangs around his fingers. "And while we're at it, let's have a full body Super Beauty Mud Course~"

She touched her chin in thought. "I'll think about the mud course, but not today."

But then, a demon, who should be hyper at the sight of a premium item, was rather silent.

"Hey Alexa-sama... Can I touch it?" The second-born teleports beside her, orbs sparkles gold and fingers twitching on air in a perverse way. "Please. It'll be a dream come true to hold it in my arms for even just a second."

"I refuse." She slid it back her wallet as fast as she swiped it out. "Show me first that I could trust you." She pinched the tan nose facing her, grinning.

Cherry red orbs observes the sight of the lively table, a curve tenderly forms across his face.

"O-Oi! Let go–" *Ring ring*

The sound of a phone rung through the spirited atmosphere, which wiped the smile off Alexandria's face.

Picking up the cup of tea with her free hand, she gulp it down before letting go of Mammon.

"Take care while shopping later, MC." She ruffled her sister's hair, "Thank you for the meal. Now, if you'll excuse me." ...before leaving the room.

"Then, I'll also retire for today and take a rest. Don't make a mess while I do so." Feeling tired of his restless shift, Lucifer decided to leave and retire to his room.

On his way, he heard the familiar voice of the lady behind her door, seemingly distressed.

As unethical as it seems, the oldest's curiosity of the enigmatic female wins him over and decided to stood his ground.

"I told you Father, I can't right now, that's why I'm telling you to just let me quit...... If I tell you, you'll definitely try to take me back there....... No...... Not telling......."

He could hear the series of loud sighs and frustration beyond the door.

"No, I don't want it. Brother deserves the company more than I do. So please think it over again.... Yes....... Yes, I will. Then, bye." He then heard a beep ending the call.

On the verge of stepping away as to not get caught, the next thing he heard render him motionless in place.

"I'm not even a your real child to begin with. If I continue there, I'll actually end up killing myself..." Unconsciously, he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Alexandria jolts in surprise as her door opened out of nowhere.

"Wha..." Surprise was imminent on her face yet, realizing it is the first-born, her brows scrunches. "Don't you know knocking is a common courtesy?"

"What do you mean by you not being your father's real child? And what do you mean about killing yourself?" He ignores the annoyed expression of the woman. There's no way he could let this information pass under his nose. Not with this girl who made him concede more than he expected, and certainly not because of that grim words.

"What do you want?" She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

"Killing yourself is something I could not ignore. And, I want to know more about the human who have the audacity to force a pact with me." He returned the same gaze with crossed arms above his chest. They stared at each other for a few seconds before the lady yield for the first time.

"Alright. I guess as a demon who have a pact with me, you have the right to know. We are, after all, connected by soul in spite of everything... Let's go to your office or something. I don't want anyone to hear this like you did."

"Right now, Satan is probably cooped in the library. He'll certainly asked why we're together. Let's go to my room instead. It's quite spacious for someone to eavesdrop."

She followed behind the oldest brother, careful not to be seen by anyone. Entering the room without meeting anyone down the hallway gave her a sense of relief.

"Even your room is nice." She casually strolls in the room, brushing her fingertips on the bones in the pillar, the candelabra, the gramophone, and scanning a few picture frames above the fireplace.

"You may want to start your story this instant or I'll pull the words out of you by force." Growing impatient, Lucifer took a sit at an angle on the corner of his bed, arms drapes his chest again.

With another sigh, she sat on the length of the bed partially behind the man, placing both her palms on the bed as she face the furnace.

"Too eager, aren't we?"

"Unlike you, I want to take a rest." Alexandria chuckled of his remark.

"It's true I'm not a real child of the current family I'm in. I am adopted after all." Her Aquamarine eyes glows a hue of orange as she stare at the dancing fire in the furnace. "It's no secret to MC. I did met her in an orphanage after all.."

"She's a volunteer that time when we're still young. Is that good enough? Am I off the hook already?"

"No. That doesn't answer my second question. You're still hiding... something." The strained smile he witnessed on her face almost made him regret continuing his statement.

"Is this a some sort of punishment?" A self-reproachful laughter rings the room, "You're good with picking your card if it is."

"You can say that. But I'm also curious of you."

"Yeah, yeah... But it'll be a long story. Is it alright with you?"

"I have the whole day available. And you?"

"I also have nothing to do. I just gave MC a sister-free day or she'll get tired of me."

"Then, continue your story." He moves facing the same fireplace.

"Ahh, right... If I remember correctly, the Great Celestial War... It's a conflict within your family, right?"

Lucir flinched from the sudden question. "...Why did you ask?"

"I just thought we may have the same sentiment... or maybe not."

"..."

"Anyways, MC knew nothing about what I'm going to tell you, so it's our secret, okay?" She waited for his reply before continuing.

"You see, I also have a big family. I'm the oldest with my six, adorable siblings. They're 3 set of twins. Amazing, right?" She smiled at him, softly.

"We're living a normal, happy life. I'm really satisfied with our big family I feel it to last forever... Or so I thought." The softness in her face disappeared into a grimace. Colors in her eyes disappeared as she travel back to time.

"I was 9 at that time when that night happened. It was freezing I couldn't feel my fingertips. Snow was falling hard when I witness everything."

"Unlike that fire, the place was rather cold and dark. My struggling brother's neck in his bare hands, my limp and beaten mother trying to pry him away from my brother, the bloody corpses of my 3 sisters, my 2 other brothers writhing in pain... and that sickening smile on my father's face." She spat, grabbing Lucifer's comforter with her fist. Lucifer watched the scorching flame reflected in her eyes as if it's her own.

"There's no way I could ever forgive him for what he have done..." She rid of her shoes and hugged her legs, facing Lucifer as she lay her cheeks on her knees. "Like how I could never forgive myself for what happened."

"Forgive yourself? That's a foolish way to put it. You didn't do anything wrong."

Bluish orbs draw itself towards his own as she gave him a bitter smile. "You can say that because you don't know everything."

"Then tell me what I don't know."

"Let's just say that a drive to protect MC and a drive to live are two different things. And I've been searching for the latter to no avail."

"You're really lucky to still have your brothers. I am quite jealous if I may say." She wore her shoes again and amble her way to the entryway. "It seems like this is as far as I could tell you right now. Maybe I'll continue it next time. If you'll excuse me." She bowed before closing the door.

In contrast, Lucifer couldn't utter another word. Perhaps it's because of the pact above his chest which connects them, but he felt his heart ache slowly since she started telling her story.

And right now, he feels an unbearable pain. An unbearable pain as if he's reliving his own scars.

He stared at the same scorching fire, and as though imitating her, he tried imagining the grief he have felt of losing someone dear.

"...lucky, huh... I guess I really am..." Clutching the fabric above his chest, he felt a pang of guilt from his curiosity.

If anyone asks if I hate Mammon for bullying him here too much— the answer's no. In fact, he's my # 2 (sometimes # 1 coz Luci). I really love him and his dorkiness! But he's just so adorable when he's flustered that I end up picking on him a bit too much (maybe that's also the reason why I love Luci and he's my first if not because of my occasional Mammon hype).

Anyways, it's a good thing I posted it now. I've been proofreading it for the umpteenth time cause I don't have any friends to ask nor share sentiments with the Obey Me Fandom (sad life of an otaku). I have many revisions but I'm quite satisfied with how it turns out again. UwU

And I didn't even noticed it's already 3 a.m. so I'm gonna peace out now~~

Chapter 3

MASTERLIST

#don't get me wrong #I love Mammon and his dorkiness #obey me lucifer imagine #obey me lucifer x oc #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me luci x reader #obey me luci #obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #om! luci #swd luci #swd lucifer #lucifer angst #lucifer swd #lucifer x reader #om! lucifer x oc #om! lucifer x reader #om! lucifer x mc #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer fic #swd #obey me #obey me shall we date #om! #obey me swd #obey me masters #meenah-chan~~

[chuchiotaku]

[Preview] TBA Chapter 15: Erised Straeh Ruoy

The trial is finally over, but Ron’s first year is only halfway done and the holidays are not yet over.  What other surprises are in store for our little time traveller?  Certainly more than Ron expected!   Because somebody forgot about a certain mirror...

[Target release date: Early January]

"You're doing it again."

"Huh?" Ron blinked when Ginny called out to him with a frown.

"Like you've seen another gnome coming in from the fence. But...angrier. A lot angrier."

The time traveller sighed lowly. He hadn't meant for anyone to notice it. How long had his sister been watching him? "Sorry, Ginny. Didn't mean to worry you."

"Of course I'm worried, Ron. We all are," said Ginny. "You've been out of sorts since you came back from the trial. Even Dad and Bill looked pissed! I never thought I’d see them THAT angry!”

It was a huge shock to Percy, Fred, George and Ginny to see their parents, Bill, Charlie and Ron looking far from happy at their victory over the trial. Molly, pale and shaking, had kept such a strong grip on Ron’s shoulders that the boy was worried his arms would fall off at any given moment. Charlie, on the other hand, had a deep scowl etched on his face, his ears bright red and his tightly clenched fists near bone white. Arthur and Bill may have looked all right to an outsider, but any Weasley could tell by their rigid postures, their strained gestures and the frigid storms rumbling in their eyes that they too were as enraged as Charlie obviously had been.

The remaining Weasley children were naturally quick to ask for more information, being already antsy over the fact that they weren’t allowed to attend the trial because they were minors.  Molly had given them a very watered-down version of the trial’s events: the Professors and Ron telling their accounts, the Court asking follow-up questions, the obvious guilty verdict and Sirius’ name being cleared.  

Which was fine and good, but didn’t really explain what provoked such rage from most of the Weasleys who attended the trial, much to Ron’s other siblings’ chagrin. But even Arthur had put his foot down that that was that, and Bill and Charlie weren’t forthcoming either.  

I’m actually surprised it took Ginny this long to ask me about it.  Ron thought. I’m even more surprised that she’s the first to do it. I was expecting Percy to crack earlier since he was more involved.

Then again, the way Bill and Charlie had all but monopolized Ron’s time yesterday could be another reason. Bloody hell, he had expected a bit of coddling from Bill (who had always been a bit of a mother hen, to be honest), but Charlie? Seriously, the way his second oldest brother behaved yesterday, one would have thought Pettigrew would shoot out of a rat hole any second to take Ron away with him to Azkaban.

The only reason he hadn’t displayed his exasperation outright was that he was more afraid of Charlie’s legendary temper blowing up on him.  And between that and a Hungarian Horntail guarding its egg, he’d choose the latter in a heartbeat.

But back to the matter at hand: what should he tell Ginny? And, by extension, the twins and Percy? He honestly didn’t know why his parents and oldest brothers didn’t tell them of Pettigrew’s meltdown at the trial. Ron honestly found it to be unnecessary drama, the last ditch effort to be considered a threat by a doomed coward. But he really didn’t see the point of lying to his other siblings about it either.

Why not a half-truth?

“It was because of Pettigrew.” Ron finally answered. “The trial went pretty well, even though some of the Lords were being ar—err, difficult.  But then, after the verdict, the rat suddenly had this epic breakdown. Downright horrible sight, Ginny. Would have made anyone pissed, really.”

Ginny’s nose wrinkled.  “Because he was scared he was going to Azkaban?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“But that still doesn’t explain why it made Mum, Dad, Bill and Charlie so—”  Suddenly, Ginny’s expression turned hard.  “He didn’t threaten you, did he?”

Shite. On second thought, maybe this was why he shouldn’t have said anything, after all.

SNAP!

Ron nearly jumped off his bed when his curtains were quickly parted, revealing his white-faced but smiling best mate.

“Harry?” Ron began groggily. “What’s going—? OI!”

With a whispered “no time to explain, you have to see this,” over his shoulder, Harry dragged Ron from the bed so quickly that the redhead barely had time to grab his outer robe.

“Harry! Wait, Harry!” Ron squawked in confusion when the other boy draped a cloak over both of them. The invisibility cloak?! “Harry, mind explaining why we’re rushing around, under the invisibility cloak far past curfew?!”

“Sorry, Ron, but I just...I had to get you to see.” Harry said breathlessly while looking frantically around in his hurry. “I thought that maybe I could get to show you tomorrow, but we’re meeting Mr. Black, and I already met your family…”

“What’s that got to do with—?”

“Keep it down! We’re almost there.”

Almost where? Ron asked in his head but he didn’t dare voice it out loud. Not when Harry was gripping his arm so tight it was starting to hurt. Not when the look in Harry’s eyes was a worrying mix of excitement, disbelief and desperation. 

It was...he had seen that look on his best mate before. Where had he seen it? When?

It felt like hours since they got down from the Gryffindor Tower, and since Ron didn’t have time to put on his slippers, his feet were freezing against the stone-cold floors of the castle. But again, Ron didn’t voice a complaint, because he was trying to remember just what Harry’s strange behaviour was all about.

Judging by how Harry’s looking around like he’s searching and watching out for Filch, it’s obvious he doesn’t really remember the way to...wherever he wanted to go. And if it’s something that he had to wake me up for--not that I was asleep to begin with--must be something really important. But what could it be? Come on, Ron, think. The time traveller’s brows furrowed. Christmas. What else important happened back then during the first life? We found out that Flamel was involved with the stone, but didn’t know who he was. Hermione went home for Christmas. Harry got the cloak. We still didn’t find out anything about Flamel after the holidays. What else am I missing? Why can’t I remember? Come on, stupid brain. Help me remember. My best friend is acting weird and it’s your job to —

A familiar warmth came from his pocket, next to his wand, and for the first time, Ron welcomed the vision.

“You could have woken me up!”

“You can go tonight. I’m going back. Want to show you…”

“Are you all right? You look...odd.”

FLASH!

The cold stone was hurting his feet. “—and I’m freezing, Harry! Let’s just forget it and go back before—”

“NO! We can’t. It’s here. I know it’s here somewhere!”

FLASH!

A huge golden mirror, lined with runes and a single sentence in English lettering.

“Look! Look at all of them! There are loads!”

“...No, I’m alone, but I’m different! I look older and—and I’m Head Boy!”

FLASH!

The sight of a despondent Harry sending a chill through his chest.

“I know what you’re thinking, Harry. Don’t go back tonight. That mirror is bad news. ”

“...All right, all right. You’re really starting to sound like Hermione.”

“I’m serious, Harry! Don’t go.”

“We’re here!”

Ron was startled out of his vision just in time to see it: the tall gold leafed mirror, its entire frame and glass faded by age, but the words etched on the old gold.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

The Mirror of Erised. The same chill that entered Ron’s chest in his vision returned with a vengeance. Shite. We shouldn’t be anywhere near this thing. I need to get Harry out of here!

“Harry, we’re not supposed to—”

“I know, I know. But look, Ron, there! See?” Harry tugged at Ron’s sleeve, eagerly pointing. “Right over there! There’s my family! My mum and dad! My grandparents, even! And..and..!”

“I don’t see anything.” Ron snapped, taking Harry by the arm. “Come on, Harry. Filch will skin us alive if he finds us!”

“You’re just not standing close enough!” The next thing Ron knew, Harry had pushed him forward, bracing him so he was dead center at the mirror. 

The Ron in the past had seen himself, alone, with a Head Boy badge and the Quidditch Cup, the best among his siblings, only because that Ron had been a selfish and shallow-minded boy who didn’t know any better.

But the Ron now, what he saw drove him to his knees.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #ron weasley defense squad #ron weasley fanfiction

[mikkomacko]

Christmas Magic 2

The smack delivered to her arm stings against her bare skin, y/n flinching immediately. "He's a dad?" Emma exclaims loudly, dropping her candy cane striped hat to the floor. "You're going out with someone's father?"

"Would you chill, it's not like he's forty!" Y/n hisses, rubbing at her bicep that Emma had slapped in reaction to y/n telling her about Harry. She pulls down the skirt of her Mrs. Claus dress, smoothing out the white fuzz at the edging.

"But he's like had a child," Emma says as if y/n's missing something obvious. "you'd be like a mom but not a mom."

She can't help but roll her eyes at her friend and co-worker's words. "Dad's deserve rights too, you know? Especially hot dads."

Emma laughs at that, swatting at her arm again. Thankfully it's playful this time. "Ok but how hot is he?"

"A cross of Mick Jagger and Bill Skarsgard."

"Holy fuck he's your wet dream!"

"I know," she squeals, clenching her fists as she does a little dance of excitement in her spot. "and his daughter is so sweet. Like I know I love kids, but I really fucking love this kid."

Y/n has always loved kids. She grew up with lots of cousins and friends that had little siblings so being around children was second nature. Not to mention all the time she volunteered at nurseries and elementary schools and children's hospitals.

Emma tells her something but she's not listening enough to answer, and they finish getting ready for their set in silence because y/n is too deep into her thoughts to answer. And even as she's onstage, looking around just in case Harry and Ophelia happen to be back, she can't help but wonder if Harry loves all kids the way she does or if he's just soft for his daughter.

~

"A date?" Gemma gasps, and Harry can picturing her clutching her non-existent pearls. "With a woman?"

"Yes Gem," Harry exasperates, "a woman has agreed to go on a date with me this weekend."

She giggles through the phone, either happy that he's got his first real date in four years or proud of her own joke. "So the nipper needs a babysitter huh?"

Harry cradles his phone between his ear and shoulder, grabbing the check in form on the reception desk. "Yes she does and she's very excited to see her aunt Gemma." He winces through the lie, remembering how much Ophelia had wailed when he informed her that she wouldn't be attending dinner with him and y/n.

"Does she know your going on a date or does she think you're working late again?"

"Umm," Harry pauses, hearing Gemma's words but too caught up reading over all the names that have signed in. After a moment, one in which Gemma knows he's multitasking ( or trying to), Harry finally answers. "she knows it's a date. Wouldn't lie to her."

"How'd she take the news?"

"Well, I um, I asked the girl out when Ophelia was with me." Harry admits and as he thinks about it, he's lucky Ophelia didn't burst into a tantrum in that cafe when he'd asked. She's always had issues with sharing Harry, even going as far as yelling at his old boss when he'd had to come in on a weekend, leaving her with Uncle Niall.

"So she knows you're a dad then?"

Harry scoffs, "Of course, wouldn't ask someone out without telling them about the little miss."

Gemma makes a sound as if to say "that's why you've never gotten any dates" and he's tempted to tell her that he's in fact never wanted to date anyone until he met y/n. He thinks it was how starry eyed she had Ophelia. Or maybe it's how sweet her smile is.

Harry's interrupted by a terrible, screeching cry from down the hall. "Sorry Gem, gotta go. I've got a crier. I'll text ya the time." He's hanging up his phone, dropping it onto his desk quite ungracefully, and swiping up a patient chart as quickly as he can. Harry jogs down the hall to the room of Charles M. Brunt, putting on a smile as he enters the room.

"S'all this crying for me?" He greets, catching the attention of the wailing boy. He stops squirming in his mother's arms, staring up at Harry with big, teary eyes and a trembling bottom lip.

"D-do I really have to get a shot?"

Harry tries not to smile because he had a feeling all this wailing was due to a shot. Instead, he pouts sympathetically and nods. "I'm afraid so but don't you worry. I promise it won't hurt."

Charlie's face wobbles a bit as he sniffles sadly, looking to his mother for help. She wipes his tears, shrugging sadly at him. "We trust Mr. Harry don't we Charlie?" Charlie nods at her words. "Then we know this will be ok."

Harry offers him one last encouraging smile before gathering everything for Charlie's flu shot, picking out the Avengers band-aid because he knows Charlie loves that one. Harry gets Charlie's sleeve rolled up and latex gloves on, wiping his bicep with an alcohol wipe. Charlie attaches himself to his mother's arm, squeezing her hand for dear life like he always does.

"Hey Charlie," Harry distracts, subtly pulling the cap off the needle. "what'd ya ask Santa for for Christmas?"

Charlie seems to forget what's going on, relaxing as he falls victim to the excitement of Christmas. He starts listing off different types of Legos he asked for, only pausing when Harry picks him with the needle. He's quick to inject the fluid before Charlie tenses to much, pulling the needle out and covering it with the band-aid.

"We did it Mr. Harry!" Charlie laughs, straining his neck to look at his band-aid. "And you put Thor on me! I love Thor!"

Harry chuckles. "Well he is the best." He responds even though he couldn't care less about the best superhero. He's pretty sure he told Ophelia last week that Captain America is the best Avenger because he's her favorite.

Harry sends Charlie off to the checkout desk with a fist-bump and a "merry Christmas," wondering which superhero y/n thinks is the best.

~

She's nervous. Really nervous as she paces back and forth in the living room of her little apartment, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. She's got her water proof boots on, her gloves tucked into the pocket of her winter coat, and tights on under her jeans, beyond prepared to brace the cold so she can enjoy her night with Harry.

Her date with Harry.

But he's late. Not so late that she'd think he'd stood her up, especially since he called her ten minutes ago, breathless and a bit grumpy, to tell her that he's running a tiny bit late. She doesn't know how far he lives or if he's driving or taking the train or maybe a taxi, so she can't really time how long it'll take him to get to her complex.

Y/n is in the middle of re-tying her boots when her phone rings, Harry’s name popping up on the screen as well as a picture of Mick Jagger back when he was around her age. She’s quick to answer, breathless with nerves as she softly says “hello?”

"M'outside," Harry says, sounding a lot happier than he did earlier, before quickly adding, "well I think I'm outside." He chuckles a rumble-y little titter that crackles in the phone's speaker while y/n tugs on her coat and rushes outside, locking the door behind her. She peers down from the second story landing, spotting the black car she'd seen him load Ophelia into after the carnival.

"There you are," she assures him, practically hopping down the stairs. "M'coming now."

"Ya know I can see ya, right?" Harry laughs teasingly but cutely, and she can't recall a time she's ever referred to someone's father as cute.

"Well I didn't know if you could see in the dark or not!" Y/n defends, laughing because there's just something about Harry that makes her overflow with giggles.

"Old enough to be a father, love but m'not old enough to be blind."

She laughs even more at that, blushing over the fact that Harry's so hilarious. She's never met a guy that's been genuinely silly and funny like Harry is.

"Blindness comes in all ages sir." She responds sassily, giggling when Harry chuckles deeply. His only line of defense is a response of "hurry up and get in the bloody car," but she's already reaching for the handle of the passenger side door. She hops in, the heating blasting against her cold cheeks and the seat warm under her body.

"You're being awful bossy," y/n says, phone still pressed to her ear despite the fact that Harry has set his in his lap and looking at her with bright eyes, that twinkle blue and she can't help but swoon over the fact that sometimes his eyes are blue and sometimes they're green. She wonders if Ophelia's eyes do that too.

Harry simpers, a little shyly, and shrugs. "M'a dad. Bossy comes with the title."

Y/n rolls her eyes, finally hanging up her phone and tucking it into the pocket of her coat. Harry looks at her expectantly, hand resting on the gear shift and she quickly buckles up to appease him.

"Speaking of being a dad," y/n murmurs, unable to stop herself. "how's Ophelia?"

The smile that takes over his face is breathtaking, crinkling by his eyes and indenting dimples into his cheek. He only glances at her for a second before returning his eyes to the road and y/n realizes she doesn't know where they're going. Then she catches the glimmer in his eyes and decides she doesn't care.

"She's good. Spent the day making gingerbread houses with her before my sister came to babysit for the night." Y/n practically coos at the longing in Harry’s voice, as if he’d do anything to always have her with him.

"Wait," she frowns, turning in her seat to look at him. "was she upset that you were leaving tonight?"

Harry looks at her curiously for a very brief second, shrugging as he struggles to come up with an answer. Y/n already knows the answer that's going to come out of his mouth. "She was a little hurt that she wasn't tagging along," he finally replies, sugar coating the fact that Ophelia had a tantrum when Harry went to leave without her.

"She was?" Y/n grimaces, slumping into the seat. The car comes to a red light, Harry finally looking at her once they've stopped.

"S'why I was late," he says apologetically. "she was hurt that I got to come see you and she didn't."

And that wasn't what she was expecting to hear. She thought he'd gently tell her that Ophelia was hurt that someone was stealing her daddy for the night. That Ophelia hated y/n and didn't want Harry with her. She saw how much Ophelia loves Harry, how anxious she is without him. She can't really imagine Ophelia being sad that she wasn't spending time with y/n instead of being sad that she wasn't spending time with her father.

"Really?"

Harry must hear the surprise in her voice because he chuckles softly, nodding as he takes the green arrow to head left. They're going to the outskirts of the city where there's mostly just big luxurious houses and small business. She listens with a tiny smile and blushing cheeks as Harry tells her all about Ophelia's love for her. He gushes that Ophelia keeps begging to go back to the carnival and if he didn't have work he probably would have taken her because she's just so sulky every time Harry tells her they can't go visit y/n. And when he tells her that Ophelia typically hates strangers, but not her, she thinks her heart's going to beat right out of her chest.

~

The restaurant Harry chose is small but cozy, dim-lighted with dark wood floors and oak tables and booths. Garland and white lights line every single window, mistletoe hung from every light fixture, and a thin but tall tree placed by the entrance next to the hostess. Judging by the pictures on the wall, it's family owned and operated since 1985 when a man named Carl Knox opened it for his wife, Lucilia. She can't help but think how cute it is that the restaurant is called Lucy's.

Harry seems to be a regular here, comfortably hanging his coat on the hooks by their booth and helping y/n out of hers. Always nervous in new places, she fiddles a bit when she first slides into the booth and is handed a menu by a teenager named Justin who greets Harry with a "nice to see you again Mr. Styles. No little one tonight?"

He chuckles, glancing at y/n with that same shy look he had when he'd reminded her in the car that he's a father, and she wonders if he's worried about the fact that he has a child.

"Not tonight, no," He murmurs, rubbing his knuckle against the tip of his nose. "and ya know not to call me Mr. Styles, come on."

Justin laughs, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I know, I just like to see ya get all uncomfortable when I say it." Harry rolls his eyes, again looking at y/n shyly as he rubs his knuckle against his nose once more. Y/n catches a peek of yellow that has her heart jumping. "Alright, back to business. I'll be back in a minute to take your orders."

Justin moves to another table and y/n finally drops the menu she was pretending to read, only to find Harry already looking at her. He blinks nervously when they're eyes meet and she can't stop herself from asking, "can I see your nails?"

Harry looks down at his lap when his hands sit, bobbing his head in a tiny nod. She sees his Adams's apple bob as he swallows, bringing his hands up to the table top. He splays them out, skin pale against the dark wood and his sweater sleeve rises a bit to show off a glimpse of dark ink. He's got tattoos, she realizes as she spots the cross by his thumb. She doesn't think much of it as she reaches out to run her pointer finger over the cross, smiling proudly when she sees his nails. She knew it.

"They match Ophelia's." She muses, looking over his yellow nails that are topped with the same smiley faces Ophelia had on hers. She looks up at Harry through her eyelashes, blushing at the look of awe on his face.

"Y-yeah," he breathes. "she loves having them painted but m'awful at it. Took her to this place by m'home but she was nervous so I got mine done too. She was so happy and I like the colors, so we kinda made it a tradition."

Her bones feel like jelly with how warm her veins have gotten. She knew from the minute she saw Harry that he's handsome. He's so handsome she'd even go as far as calling him hot, and she hates calling people hot, but he makes her feel hot. And she knew he's a good dad, could tell when she read the identification card Ophelia had handed her. But she's never met any man that would willing get his nails done with his daughter and enjoy it enough to keep doing it. She's overwhelmed with how cute and handsome and sweet and sexy he is.

"That's," she pauses, trying to catch her breath. Her finger continues to dance over the soft skin of his hand. "that's the most adorable thing I've ever heard." Harry chuckles bashfully, shrugging and somehow that makes him even more attractive.

"S'nothing. I mean, she's my daughter, ya know?"

"It's not nothing," y/n insists. "it's really sweet and progressive of you. I mean, my dad would never do that."

Harry's eyes flicker between hers, dazzling blue and warm. He shrugs again, looking as if he's about to say something but is interrupted by Justin returning with glasses of water. They're pulled out of their moment, Harry ordering an iced tea and a chicken salad sandwich. Y/n sticks to her water but orders a salmon salad.

Once Justin's left with their orders, Harry looks at her with a purse of lips that looks as if he's trying to keep from saying something. Y/n chuckles, wrapping her fingers around her glass of water. "What?"

"You gotta tell me how ya got the job of singing and dancing in a costume." He chuckles, leaning forward on his elbows. Y/n, familiar with this question, tells him that she works at the radio station that puts on this carnival, and she'd done a segment years ago in which she sang a duet with a bunch of guests artists. Apparently everyone enjoyed it so they begged her to sing for the carnival and she's just kept doing it ever since.

They fall into easy conversation, not even pausing when their food is delivered. Between bites of the best salad she's ever eaten and sips of water, she finds out that Harry is a nurse at the pediatrics ward of the hospital and his favorite part of the job is the fact that it made raising Ophelia easier. They gave him lots of time off when she was born because he's been her sole parent since birth, and he's got a flexible schedule so he can always pick her up for school and spend weekends with her. He also didn't have to worry about little colds or teething when she was younger because he's learned all about it.

Harry doesn't talk about Ophelia's mom and she doesn't ask. Even when he mentions that Ophelia's nothing like her mother, and he looks almost scared that he's mentioned it, y/n plays it off with a little comment about how she's nothing like her father, but she's really glad Ophelia's like hers.

Y/n can't believe how comfortable she is around Harry. They'd talked that day at the cafe and got on well but there was no pressure to impress there. Here, however, is the pressure of a first date that usually makes her awkward and nervous. With Harry, it's not the case. They laugh and joke around, and nudge their feet together under the table. They argue over the bill a bit, Harry finally paying it to make up for the hot coco she bought him and Ophelia, but he promises next time they can split it.

The car ride home is filled with Christmas music that Harry insists she sing along to since she's "a proper performer." But she can't even hold a good note because Harry's constantly glancing at her with a big smile that has her breathless and laughing. She's still giggling at him when they pull up to her apartment, this time Harry shutting down the engine and unbuckling.

Y/n doesn't really question him when he gets out, rushing around the front of the car with a little hop in the headlights that has her snorting. He opens her door for her, helping her down and adjusting the collar of her coat in the same way she saw him fix Ophelia's at the carnival. She can't help but be endeared by the little mannerism.

"Second floor?" Harry asks, offering his elbow to her. She nods, slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow and they head towards the stairs. Their breath fogs out around them, puffing out when they reach the top and Harry let's out a dramatically harsh pant.

"Sorry, the dad bod's getting to me."

She giggles, breathing a little difficult too but she thinks it's from Harry, not the cold or her body shape. Y/n leads him to her front door, pausing with the key in the lock.

"Do you want to come in?"

Harry looks sorry as he shakes his head, pursing his pink lips to the side. "Would really love too but I gotta get home to the little miss. Never been out this late before and m'afraid she'll be a little rattled."

"Oh my God," y/n gasps, slipping her arm out of his. "what are you doing up here then? Get home!"

Harry chuckles, that same rumble-y laugh she'd heard over the phone. It's prettier in person, even with how masculine it is. "Forgot to do something at the restaurant," he explains, bringing his hands up to her shoulders. He's hesitant, eyes flickering between hers as he reaches up with one hand to push hair out of her face.

"Oh," she breathes, able to smell his husky cologne. He cups her cheek, gloves soft on her skin, and waits to see if she's going to shake him off. When she doesn't, he takes a little step forward. Y/n does the same, bringing her hands up to his chest.

Harry smiles cutely, leaning down to put a small kiss to her lips. His lips are cold but somehow still soft, his breath warm on her cheeks. She pecks his lips back, eyes closing just briefly to feel how soft his lips are on hers, even if it only lasts a couple seconds.

"S'no mistletoe here," Harry murmurs, stroking his thumb over her cheek "but I couldn't not kiss ya." His touch is electrifying, eyes sparkling like Christmas lights and y/n definitely thinks there's something magic about him.

#christmas magic #Christmas Magic 2 #single dad harry #dad harry #dad harry styles #fluff #Harry and Ophelia #nurse Harry #one direction #fanfiction #fanfic #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic

[owillofthewisps]

a lantern’s lament - prologue

notes: i am a monster ahaha have another wip, one that’s been stirring for a bit.  this is my last one though, i swear, because i can’t keep doing this to myself. also this will likely...stray a good deal from canon or at least introduce some things that are decidedly not there in the show.  so it goes.  give me a world with magic and mayhem and i’ll make my own. also yes i know i am really into the geralt and stone thing i can't help it. stone is tough but you can chip at it and erode at it and it has life in it, too. 

rating: teen for now.

pairing: geralt of rivia/female reader

word count: 1k

there are rumors of fires that burn like starlight on the remote edge of the cindarian coast.  that they burn white-blue, ocean and foam in the same licks of flame, bright enough to be seen even in skellige.  the islanders won’t speak of them.  if the rumors are true, the islanders say, then you should let the fires guide ships without interference.

geralt of rivia comes to the coast.

the fires burn brighter.

They say there’s someone new in town.

Ygritte says it’s a man built from stone, human skin stretched tight over the rocky expanse of him; she says that he moves like a mountain, something monumental and wild. He has eyes like a vein of gold ore, she says, glinting yellow in the sun and the moon alike.

Is he dangerous, you ask, and she shrugs one slim shoulder.  Her freckles are like stars, scattered across the expanse of her skin.

Dangerously pretty, she says.  She laughs at your glare, and she has always had a laugh like the tide, something eroding and beautiful, something that pulls you under, makes you drown in her joy.

Is he dangerous, you repeat.  The town is a remote one, tucked into the wind-swept cliffs of the shore.  Visitors are rare.  The Islanders, sometimes, searching for a spouse, besotted by the sea salt that clings to the skin of the townspeople, by the whale song in their voices.  What does he want, you ask.

Ygritte’s mischief melts away.  We don’t know, she says, not yet.  

You tap your fingers against the pitted wood of the table.  We will soon, you say, mouth drawn into something grim.  No one comes this far without a purpose.

The sun rises bleak behind fog the next morning, and you rise with it.  You pack a small bag for the trip to town.  The town is remote, but your cottage is more remote still, at the very edge of the Continent, where the sea breeze sings and strums its fingers across the seashells hung at your door until they chime like the waves.  

The gulls are crying as you enter town, circling high above, their calls sharp and piercing.  The fog has burned off beneath the sun’s heated touch.  People shout greetings to you, and you shout back heartily.  The smile sweeps across your lips like a wave.  

You find the stone man by accident, hear the rumble of his voice before you spot his broad, broad frame.  He is speaking to his horse. It is hard to keep your gaze from him, from the white of his hair, the color of the foam left behind on the shore, from his thick arms and his large hand, so gentle on his mare’s flank. He is good at seeming preoccupied, you think, for though his hand never stops moving, you can see his eyes roving. You watch as his keen gaze flickers about.  He finds your siblings without err, picks all of them out in the bustle of the square, Kida, Yakob, even Gal, still small and tethered by her mother’s hand.  

You step back into the shadows, let them consume you and shield you, before he can see you.    His hand pauses.  Those broad shoulders tense, the muscles bunching beneath his shirt.  You already know that those torchlight eyes will turn to you.

You slink further back into the shadows before you pivot.  If he sees you, the stone man doesn’t follow.  

It is easy enough to avoid him as you wander town, tucking supplies into your bag and pressing the salt you’ve collected into open palms.  His height betrays him, makes it easy to spot the snowfall of his hair any time he draws near.  

Ygritte, you think, will ply him with her honeyed words, will draw his purpose out of him like nectar from a flower.  That will have to be enough.

You leave town early, knowing that the sun sets quicker and quicker as true winter approaches.  The nights have begun to cool, the salty air growing icy.  Your cottage is a warm blanket in comparison, the banked fire spreading tendrils of heat throughout the room.

You put away your supplies, tidy your cottage, and think of the stone man’s eyes, like molten gold.  You think you could spend hours trying to decipher his honed attention. But the sun is sinking on the horizon steadily.

The door to your cottage creaks as you close it, the sound almost swallowed by the crash of the waves and the sea breeze’s moan.  The breeze pulls at your hair with teasing fingers, whips the strands against your face.  You pay it little mind.

The path to the shore is well-trodden despite the ever-shifting sand.  As you descend, the sounds of the ocean grow louder, sweeping through you and settling against you like bathwater, cocooning you in song.  

You leave your shift on the shore, shrug out of it with ease, the simple garment coming undone with one pull at the ties.  The night air bites at you, licks a path of chilled air across your nude form.  It is of little consequence to you.  The pillar rock has drawn your gaze, the slab of it obsidian dark in the setting sun.  

The sand gives way to rock beneath your feet, slippery with algae and sharp-edged.  Barnacles prick at you, their hard shells threatening to slice through your skin.  You ignore the nip of them.

Climbing the pillar rock is second nature, now, feels as easy as breathing.  It is cold and wet against your skin, smells of the salt tang of the sea and the vegetal whisper of the algae.  You climb, and climb, and the first burst of light piercing the still darkening sky catches your eye just as you reach the flattened top of the stone.  The light comes from the south, barely visible beyond the bend in the coast, and you think to yourself, Kida.  Always early.

You pull yourself up onto the flat damp of the stone. The salt water sprays high as the ocean throws itself against the glistening black of the pillar stone, breaking open upon the spear of it.  The shoreline is a toothy maw, all hungry mouth.  

You gaze out into the vast expanse of the sea, time your breath with the rhythm of the waves, and wait.

True night begins to fall.  The sun sinks below the horizon, all warm gold, and you think again of the stone man’s eyes.  You wonder why he is here.

The last of the sun melts away, is consumed by the velvet of night.  You push the stone man from your head and breathe the salt air deep.  To the north, light blazes to life, white-blue and bright.  

You push the breath from your lungs and heed your sibling’s call, let the tingle at the base of your spine weave through your bones.

The glow starts soft, shimmering just beneath your skin, before it flares like a wildfire, pours from you like torchlight, casting thick and bright over the shore’s treacherous mouth.

You close your eyes against the incandescence and settle in for the night.

The shine, you think, will not ensnare the stone man’s shrewd attention, not all the way from town.

You are wrong.

taglist: @fairytale07​ @1950schick​ @nonamejustshame​ @sageandberries-png​ @stretchkingblog97​ @alwayshave-faith​

(if i missed you in a tag let me know, my organization system got a little screwy)

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt imagine #the witcher x reader #the witcher imagine #story: a lantern's lament

[spn-safeandsound]

08. Julia Ruth

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x12; Faith

Word Count: 11,431

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore, injury, a steamy scene that doesn’t get very far, protective Dean

Author’s Note: Hi there! Sorry for the weeks since I last updated but I’m here again. This chapter is when things start to change for Dean as far as his feelings toward Julia. Hope you enjoy! Don’t forget to reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

The car was dead quiet. There was no music playing, there was no talking; the only sound that anyone could hear was the roar of the engine as Dean sped down the road to the abandoned house they had tracked the rawhead to.

Dean was the reason for the tense silence that filled the air. Well, really it was Dean and Julia but Dean was the only one still angry. Sam honestly thought his brother was overreacting but this was Baby they were talking about.

Their day started out normal. It was Julia's turn to pay for the motel, so they got connected rooms. They had breakfast, they questioned some witnesses about the disappearance of two young siblings, and then they went back to the motel to do some research. That's when things went downhill.

Dean had eaten the last of the chocolate chip cookies that Julia kept stashed away in her bag. Julia had thrown a fit when she found the empty box—it was then that Sam realized that he knew her way too well because he figured it was around the time of the month she started PMS-ing—and started an argument with Dean. Dean was never one to pass up a challenge, so he matched her tone and volume yell-for-yell.

And then Dean mentioned in passing that he saw her undergarments while looking for the cookies and it made it much worse. Sam had seen the embarrassed glint in Julia's eyes before Dean could and within the next moment, she burst into tears.

Dean had been absolutely horrified and started to apologize but Julia wasn't hurt—she was angry. She quickly went into her room and slammed the door that connected their rooms shut. When Dean had gone to the bathroom ten minutes later, she walked back into the room and stole the keys to the Impala.

Sam hadn't stopped her but he should have. He knew about the mood swings she'd get the week before her time of the month and he usually stayed out of her way but Dean was much more terrifying when it came to his precious Baby. He knew now that he'd much rather have a small ball of fury glaring at him with tears in her eyes than deal with his annoying brother when he was angry.

When Dean came out of the bathroom and saw that his keys were gone, he was livid. He waited for Julia in her room and when she got back from the gas station she drove to, with two packages of chocolate chip cookies and a tube of Pringles, the yelling started back up again—and the crying.

Sam honestly wondered how they hadn't gotten a noise complaint.

It had been hours since then and Julia had calmed down considerably. In fact, Sam would guess that she wasn't mad at all anymore, especially when she got her chocolate chip cookie fix. Dean, however, was a different story. He was still furious and was not talking to Julia whatsoever, leaving Sam to mediate. Now he knew how Julia felt whenever he and Dean argued.

Dean pulled into the driveway of the abandoned house and parked, turning off the engine. The three of them gathered at the trunk, watching as Dean dug through their arsenal to find the three tasers.

"How many volts are those turned to?" Julia asked Dean tentatively.

Dean pointedly ignored her.

Sam sighed heavily. "What do you got those amped up to?"

"A hundred thousand volts," Dean answered Sam. Julia's gaze hardened but she didn't say anything as he handed Sam the two tasers; Sam passed one of them onto her.

"Damn."

"Yeah, I want this rawhead extra-fucking-crispy," Dean grumbled as he shut the trunk. "Remember, you only get one shot with these things, so make it count."

They walked into the house and carefully searched the whole main floor before heading into the basement. They turned on their flashlights and slowly walked down the stairs, making sure to keep an eye out for the rawhead. There heard a thump come from their left and saw that it had come from a closed wardrobe.

"On three," Dean whispered to Sam as the two of them walked toward the wardrobe. "One. Two. Three."

He hurriedly opened the wardrobe, hearing a shrill squeak of fear. Julia turned around from where she was searching for the rawhead and saw that the brothers had found the little kids that had disappeared.

"Is it still here?" Sam asked them quietly; both kids nodded.

"Okay, grab your sister's hand," Dean grabbed the boy and gently pulled him to his feet. "Come on, we gotta get you out of here."

The kids scurried up the stairs with Sam on their heels and Dean and Julia watched their backs if the rawhead decided to attack them. Sam tripped as his ankle was grabbed through the staircase, causing the little girl to scream.

Sam watched as Dean whipped around the stairs and shot his taser. It surged out but hit nothing.

"Sam, get them upstairs!" Dean called to him. "Get outta here!"

"Here, take this," Sam tossed him his own taser before turning to scrambled up the rest of the stairs. He grabbed both of the kids' hands and led them out of the house. "Come on, come on."

They were safely outside when Sam heard Dean scream, "Julia!"

The desperation in his brother's voice chilled Sam's blood. He briefly told the kids to stay outside before sprinting back into the house and down the stairs to the basement. At the foot of the stairs, in a puddle of water, Dean knelt over Julia's body, desperately shaking her to wake her up.

Sam's breath left him.

"Julia!" he grunted, checking her pulse. "Come on, Jules, don't do this."

"Dean, what—?"

"Call an ambulance, Sam!"

He felt like his life was slowed down and then sped up in a second. He didn't remember calling for an ambulance, the paramedics doing CPR on Julia, or the ride to the hospital. It was like he blinked and he was suddenly in the middle of a silent waiting room, waiting for news on his best friend.

Sam hadn't been allowed to go back with Julia since he wasn't family but Dean had lied to the paramedics and told them he was her husband. While Dean stayed with Julia as the doctors ran tests on her, Sam called her family and took care of the paperwork that needed to be done while the police waited to ask him questions.

"Sir, I'm so sorry to ask," the nurse at the desk smiled sadly at him. "but your brother said you would give us Mrs. Petersen's insurance."

"Right," Sam shook his head blankly, pulling the insurance card that he took from Julia's wallet. He handed it to the nurse, along with her driver's license. "Here you go."

"Thank you, Mr. Petersen," the nurse assumed that his last name was the same as Julia's since they were told that she was married to his brother.

Sam nodded at her and turned to the police officers while she typed in Julia's information.

"Look, we can finish this up later," one of the officers suggested.

"No, no, it's okay," Sam shook his head; he wanted to get this done now. "We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. The windows were rolled down, we heard some screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped and ran in."

"And you found the kids in the basement?" the officer asked.

"Yeah."

"Well, thank God you did," the officer's partner commented

Sam looked back down the hallway when he heard the door to Julia's room open and close. A doctor walked out, holding a clipboard, and nodded at him so he could share Julia's results.

"Excuse me," he muttered to the officers.

"Sure," the officer nodded. "Thanks for your help."

Sam gave him a polite smile and turned away, walking over to the doctor. "Is she...?"

"She's resting," the doctor assured him.

"And?"

"The electrocution triggered a heart attack," the man informed him. "A pretty massive one, I'm afraid. Her heart is damaged."

Sam stiffened. "How damaged?"

"We've done all we can," he said sympathetically. "We can try and keep her comfortable at this point but I'd give her a couple of weeks. A month, at most."

"No," Sam shook his head in denial, his heart starting to race. "There's—there's gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment."

They could put her on the transplant list, they could give her a pacemaker...they had to do something, at least. Julia could not die. His sister could not die. He would do anything in his power to make sure she stayed alive. She was the one who was supposed to plan his funeral. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

The doctor gave him a sad smile. "We can't work miracles," he mumbled. "I really am sorry."

Sam pressed his lips together and stormed away from the man. What kind of doctor wouldn't even put his patient on a heart transplant list? Didn't Julia qualify for that kind of thing? It's not like she smoked or did anything that would prevent her from being on the list.

The door to Julia's room was opened slightly and Sam could hear the low rumble of his brother's voice talking to someone. At first he thought that he was talking to Julia but then he realized that Dean was actually on the phone.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do, Beth," Dean spoke to Julia's oldest sister as Sam slipped into the room. Dean nodded at him and started again, reacting to whatever Beth told him, "No, a few weeks...he didn't say anything about a list, no... I can't exactly move her, Beth. She wouldn't make a drive back home, it's fourteen hours."

As Dean continued speaking with Beth, Sam observed his best friend. Julia was still asleep and the hospital bed made her look so damn small. Her brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun at the top of her head, an oxygen mask placed over her mouth and nose, and dark circles stood out against her pale face under her eyes. There was a burn on her left cheek and at the top of her left arm, there was a bandage; Sam remembered that she had a few burns from where the volts left her body. He had never seen her look so sick.

"We're in Cheyanne, Wyoming," Dean told Beth.

Dean sounded as tired as Julia looked. His voice was dull and thick, as if he had a frog in his throat. The tip of his nose was red and so were the rims of his eyes. Sam had realized that Dean had been crying and it made his own throat tighten with emotion.

When he saw that Dean's, fingers were wrapped firmly around Julia's right hand where it rested on the hospital bed, tears came to his eyes.

God, he thought to himself, this couldn't be happening.

"Okay, I'll keep you updated," Dean confirmed into the phone. "Talk to you later, Beth."

He snapped the phone shut and stayed silent as he set it down and picked up the TV remote. He unmuted the volume and flipped through the channels, all the while keeping his hand around Julia's and his eyes on the TV.

"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV?" he asked Sam.

Sam sighed heavily. "I talked to J's doctor..."

"That fabric softener teddy bear," Dean narrowed his eyes at the commercial before flipping to a different channel as he avoided the conversation Sam was trying to have with him. "Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."

"Dean."

Dean pressed the power button on the remote, shutting the TV off before looking at Sam. "Abby's on her way here," he informed him. "She's gonna stay with Julia while we head off."

"What are you talking about?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "We're not leaving without Julia, Dean."

"I don't want to leave her, either, Sammy, but..." Dean trailed off and pressed his lips together to hide the emotion that Sam saw brewing in his eyes. "...there's nothing we can do for her."

"No, she's not gonna die, okay?" Sam quickly got defensive. "I'll—I'll find a way to save her. I'll look into every option."

"Sam, the doctors—"

"The doctors don't know the things we do, Dean!" he interrupted his brother.

"And what if you can't find anything, huh?" Dean's voice raised in frustration, his fingers tightening around Julia's hand.

"Then I'm staying with her until the end," Sam's firm statement made Dean pause and lower his eyes.

Dean's vision blurred as he stared at the periwinkle polish on Julia's fingernails. She had been so damn excited to find that color that she blabbed about it for almost an hour before Dean tuned her out by turning up the volume of his music. He wished he hadn't done that. He'd listen to her talk about periwinkle nail polish for days if it meant that she'd be okay.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "We'll stay with her, then," he said quietly, his wet eyes flickering up to meet's Sam's equally sad ones. "and we'll try to find something."

Sam nodded, glad that his brother agreed with him. He sat down on Julia's other side and took her hand, careful not to dislodge her IV. An hour later, when the nurse told them that visiting hours were over, he pretended he didn't see Dean kiss Julia on the forehead before they left.

-

The field was full of four kinds of flowers this time. Different ones than before; yellow ones on her left, pink ones in front of her, yellow Tulips on her right, and blue behind her. It was the different meanings of the flowers that struck Julia as odd, rather than the amount

Goldenrods for encouragement. Blue salvia for thinking of someone. Yellow tulips for sunshine. Peonies for healing.

Three of them were flowers that you'd find in a hospital giftshop. Ones you'd pick up on your way to visit a loved on in the hospital. When Naomi was in the hospital, Julia would always bring her yellow tulips instead of the bouquets in the gift shop because her mom's smile lit up the room like sunshine.

It was comforting to see the tulips even when she knew something was wrong.

"Julia Ruth."

Julia looked away from the yellow tulips and saw the beam of sun in front of her. Even with the sun hitting the grass a few feet in front of her, the sky around it was dark and stormy. She could see flashes of lightning here and there and rumbles of thunder in the distance.

"What's happening?" she whispered shakily.

She was scared. The last dream of her angel she had like this was the night after her mom died. At that time, she was surrounded only by yellow tulips and an almost black sky. She had taken a look at the flowers around her and started to bawl. Her angel was there to comfort her.

"What's wrong?"

Was it Sam or Dean? Levi, Beth, or Abby? Her dad? Lydia or Taylor? Who was hurt? Who was dying?

"You're in the hospital," the angel told her.

Julia paled in realization. The peonies, the healing. She was relieved, though, that it was her instead of one of her loved ones.

"You were injured on a hunt. You had a heart attack from the electricity that flowed through your body."

She remembered a little. She had shot the taser at the rawhead as it lunged at Dean. The rawhead lit up like a firework and she heard Dean scream her name but that was all she could recall.

A heart attack at twenty years old. Who would have thought? She always knew that hunting was dangerous and she was mostly likely to die at a young age due to her new lifestyle but it was too soon. She'd only been hunting for seven months.

She sure did draw the short straw, huh?

Julia looked back at the dark gray sky. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

She didn't feel as sad as she thought she would. She knew that Heaven awaited her once she passed and she'd be in paradise. It was her loved ones she felt sad for. Beth, Abby, and Levi would lose their little sister only four years after their mother. Her dad would lose his baby girl, her niece an aunt. And Sam and Dean...with their dad gone, all they had left was each other and her.

Maybe that's why most people were afraid of dying, she mused to herself. Because they know that their death really only affects the people they leave behind.

"You're not dying," her angel proclaimed. "Not today, not from this."

As he finished speaking, Julia's hand went to her forehead where there was a sudden pressure and a jolt of energy that came out of nowhere. She waited to feel it again but the sensation was long gone.

"Julia Ruth."

She hadn't realized that she had zoned out, thinking of the strange sensation on her skin.

She focused back on the sun beam. "Are you here to take me to Heaven?"

"No," her angel said simply. "You are Chosen for a reason."

"What?" Julia wrinkled her nose, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"When you wake, there will be a solution," her angel declared. "We will meet again soon."

-

On the numbered oak door in front of him was a large light-blue sign shaped like a dinosaur skull, a familiar name cut out in the bottom. JONAH. Dean stared at it, perplexed, before looking around at the unfamiliar hallway he was standing in.

The floors were made of white linoleum tiles and the walls were painted a light gray with subway tiles covering the bottom half of them. There were industrial sconces in between the numerous doors that lined the hall. He had no idea where he was. He had never been there before.

Dean turned back to the dinosaur door and cautiously opened it. He slowly stepped into the room, looking around in shock.

It was a nursery. Two of the walls were painted light green, one was the same blue as the sign on the door, and one was covered in a wallpaper with dark blue dinosaurs. The white tiles were covered in a light green area rug with the same blue dinosaurs as the wallpaper. Toys were neatly organized in a toy box in the far-left corner with a rocking chair and a bookshelf next to it. Against the dinosaur wall was a white crib with JONAH painted above it in dark green. On the wall across from the crib was a white changing table that doubled as a dresser.

Why the hell was he in a nursery? What was this place?

A soft cooing noise came from Jonah's crib, startling Dean. He cautiously walked over to it, his eyes widening when he saw that there was an actual baby laying inside of it. Wearing a onesie with a black car on the front, the baby smiled up at him, making a happy noise.

Dean had to admit that Jonah was a cute baby. He had a head full of dark brown hair. His eyes were hazel and his dimples...they were the Winchester dimples. The ones that his dad and Sam shared. A shocked noise came from the back of Dean's throat as the baby wiggled around in the crib, kicking his feet excitedly. Was Jonah his son? Who the hell would he have a son with?

Jonah's face fell when Dean continued to stare down at him in shock. He opened his mouth—his nose wrinkling with a familiarity that Dean couldn't recall—but Dean moved before he could let out a cry.

"Shh..." he cooed to the baby. "It's okay, Daddy's here."

Where the fuck did that come from?

"You gotta be a man about sleeping in your crib, all right?" Dean apparently had no control over his mouth. "You're getting too big to sleep with me and your momma."

Jonah's face smoothed out, happy with the attention his dad was giving him. "Da."

Dean didn't know why but his heart soared with happiness. "Yeah, bud," he smiled down at his son. "I'm your dad."

Jonah fidgeted, one of his curled fists resting against his dimpled cheek. He smiled again and, this time, Dean saw a couple of new teeth popping out of his pink gums.

"If you sleep through the whole night, I'll give you five bucks," Dean dared him. "Can you do that for me and Momma?"

Jonah hummed and Dean grinned. "Good," he answered, satisfied. "Love you, Jonah. Goodnight."

He reached up and turned the mobile over the crib on. Jonah was instantly enraptured by the rotating stuffed dinosaurs, his green eyes lighting up. Dean began to leave the room, switching on the lamp on the changing table, and turning off the overhead light. He took one more look at the nursery before closing the door.

Across from Jonah's door was another room. On the door of number fifteen, there was a sign just like Jonah and Levi's, except it was a red truck with another familiar name carved out in the bottom.

PETER

Maybe this kid was Sam's. Dean opened the door and peeked into the room. It wasn't a nursery like Jonah's room but it still was a kid's room. The light was on already, showcasing the construction theme. The little twin bed was covered in sheets and a comforter with tractors, dump trucks, and cranes all red, yellow, or blue. The walls were a light blue.

On one wall, PETER was spelt out in large red letters. A toy chest was underneath it, along with a dresser and a bookshelf. On the wall across from that was a desk. And on the floor in the middle of an area rug that was designed like a highway, was a freckled blonde toddler wearing pajama pants with lions on them. He wore no shirt and he was playing with Lego set.

"Pete, where's your shirt?" again, Dean didn't know why he was saying anything.

Peter looked up with wide green eyes, identical to Dean's. "Hi, Daddy," he looked very guilty and Dean was instantly suspicious. "Whatcha doing?"

"You're supposed to be bed, buddy," Dean walked over to him and bent down, easily swinging him up into his arms. "Where'd you put your shirt?"

"Momma said I didn't have to wear one," Peter declared innocently before placing a hand on Dean's left cheek. "Are you okay, Daddy?"

"Course I am," Dean assured him; Peter smiled widely, showing off a dimple in his left cheek.

The famous Petersen dimple.

If Dean had any control over his body whatsoever, he might have dropped Peter in realization. He knew three women with those Petersen dimples and one of them was already married with a kid.

So, who did he knock up? Julia or Abby?

As if the universe was answering him, Julia stepped into the room—looking pale, exhausted, and older than her twenty-year-old self—and gave both boys a stern look.

"Peter Samuel, you're supposed to be in bed," she scolded him, placing her hands against her t-shirt clad hips.

And, God, if Dean didn't find that sexy. He'd seen Julia's mom-mode several times before but never had it made him hard like it did now. Was this what happened when you had kids? You get turned on by good parenting?

"Did you say he could sleep without a shirt?" Dean found himself asking her, ignoring the start of his erection in his sweatpants.

Julia rolled her eyes playfully and walked over to them. "Yes," she tickled Peter's bare stomach, making the toddler squeal in delight. "He takes them off anyway. Don't you, sunshine?"

Peter laughed, pushing her manicured hands away from his stomach. "Momma, no!"

Dean's heart soared again and suddenly he was wishing this was real. That he and Julia were together and raising two sons. Two beautiful sons that seemed like great kids. Sons that he already loved with all of his heart.

If this was a dream, Dean didn't want to wake up.

Julia stopped tickling Peter and kissed the boy on the forehead. "You gotta go to sleep or we're not having blueberry pancakes tomorrow."

"No!" Peter whined. "I want them."

"Go to sleep then," Julia dared him with a raised eyebrow. "You know, I heard your dad tell Jonah that he's giving away money to sleep through the night."

"What?"

"Mmhm," Dean hummed. "I guess your brother is gonna have more money in his piggy bank than you..."

"No!" Peter wiggled his legs against Dean's chest, struggling to get down. Dean set him on the floor and he sprinted to his bed. "Okay, I'm sleeping now."

Dean laughed and grabbed Julia's hand, intertwining their fingers. "All right, hotshot. Goodnight."

"Night," Peter chirped, pulling his comforter up to his chin and giving his parents a dimpled smile. "Love you."

"Love you, too, Pete."

"Love you, Peter," Julia promised. "Don't forget that the angels are watching over you."

"Yes, they are!"

Dean and Julia left the room, after turning out the light, and walked down the hallway. Despite the casual way he walked by Julia's side, he was in turmoil. His mom had told him that all the time when he was a kid. The fact that Julia used that same phrase for their son made love swell within his stomach.

God, he wished this was real.

Dean and Julia stopped at room eleven and entered. There were records displayed on one wall, family pictures on the other, and above the king-sized bed was a picture of Dean and Julia of what looked to be their wedding day.

Holy fuck, he married Julia. Since when was he a marriage guy?

"Did you talk to Sam before he went to bed?" Julia asked him, shimmying off the pajama shorts she had been wearing.

"Yeah," Dean answered as he pulled off his shirt.

"And?"

"And he's still feeling a little off," Dean shrugged and then stepped out of his sweatpants. "How are you feeling?"

She sighed tiredly and Dean felt a wave of worry falling over him. "I'm tired and my bones ache a little."

Dean raised his eyebrow. "That's it? I heard you coughing earlier."

"I'll get better, Dean," she assured him, walking over to him and lovingly placing a hand on his cheek. "I was made for this."

Dean grabbed her hand, intertwined their fingers, and bowed his head, his nose grazing against her dimpled cheek. "You were made for me."

What the hell were they even talking about? What was he talking about?

"Yeah, I was," Julia smiled softly and pulled away, looking at him with bloodshot hazel eyes. "Now, are we going to keep talking or are you gonna put me to bed because you look very sexy right now."

Dean chuckled, feeling his cock start to grow once again. "It's because I'm wearing sweatpants, isn't it?"

"It's the sweatpants," she confirmed jokingly.

"Well," Dean kissed her forehead, then her nose, her chin, and then back up to her lips. "Whatever my baby needs," he pressed his hips into her stomach. "What are you thinking tonight?"

Julia sighed against his cheek, her lips trailing across his jaw. "Whatever you want. I just want you."

Dean moaned and reached down to grab her ass, roughly pulling her closer to him. Jesus Christ, he wanted her so bad. He was so hard that he had to remind himself that this was definitely a dream and this was not really him and Julia at all.

Julia's face was overcome with desire and, with a soft moan, she pushed Dean back onto the bed. Dean grinned as she climbed on top of him, straddling his lap and...

"Dean, would you wake up?"

Dean jumped up at Sam's voice, his eyes shooting open.

No, no, no, he thought frantically, seeing that he was back in the motel room in Wyoming. There was no bedroom, there was no Julia, and there were no Peter and Jonah.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes to stop them from filling with tears. That dream...it was a future he wanted to have. An apple-pie life with a couple of kids and his brother at his side. And Julia...she was his wife. His chest filled with grief and longing when he thought about her and those boys.

Julia was dying. She'd never get that life, either.

Sam gave him a weird look. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and rolled out of bed; it was seven in the morning and Sam was already at his laptop, doing intense research to find something to heal Julia. "Find anything yet?"

He remembered doing his own research before he went to bed. He found nothing that would be able to help Julia. It frustrated the hell out of him and scared him, too. Maybe that's why he had that dream...He wanted Julia healthy and to live a long life and his head manifested a little family for them.

Yeah, that's what it was.

"I'm looking into something right now," Sam informed him; Dean raised a curious eyebrow. "Abby called and said something about a specialist in Nebraska."

"Like a heart specialist?" Dean wondered; Sam nodded slowly. "Hmm. Well, is Abby almost here yet?"

"I talked to her an hour ago. She said she was only a hundred or so miles away," Sam said. "She's coming from Bobby's place."

Bobby. Dean hadn't seen Bobby Singer in years. Bobby was a family friend that he and Sam stayed with some over the years but when he and John had a falling out, Dean hadn't seen him since. He missed the hell out of that cranky bastard. He was wicked smart and the father figure he should have had in his life.

"Hey," Sam got his attention when his thoughts trailed off. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Dean shook his head to focus. "I'm just, um, I'm worried about Jules."

Sam sighed and stood up, grabbing a white box off the table and bringing it over to Dean. "Me too," he smiled sympathetically before going back to his seat at the table. "Hey...I was thinking that maybe you should call Dad and Luke."

"Why?" Dean scoffed as he opened the box, smiling slightly when he saw the chocolate glazed doughnuts inside. "Neither of them are gonna answer. In her last call, Beth very angrily told me that her dad wasn't answering any of their calls."

"That's what Abby said, too," Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. "But I think you should try them, anyway. For Julia."

Well, when he put it like that, Dean couldn't refuse. He'd do anything for that stubborn little shortcake.

He called Luke first and wasn't surprised to get his voicemail. "This is Luke Alexander and I am currently unavailable. If this is an emergency, call my daughter, Abby. 630-754-9296. She can help."

Dean scoffed as he ended the call, not bothering to leave a message. His voicemail recording was nearly identical to John's, who didn't pick up, either.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help."

"Hey, Dad, it's Dean," he couldn't help but leave a message for his dad. "I know you probably won't get this but me and Sam need help. It's Julia, Dad. She's really sick and the doctors are saying she's not gonna make it," he sniffed and turned away from Sam, who was watching him carefully. "We're gonna save her, though. Sam, Abby, and I are gonna find something. So, if Luke's with you, you should tell him that she's gonna be okay...All right, just wanted you to know."

As Dean snapped his phone shut and tossed it on his bed, there was a knock on the door. Sam and Dean gave it hesitant looks for a few seconds and there was another knock before Sam got up to open the door.

Abby Petersen's beautiful smile greeted them, her family's signature dimple popping out. It made Dean's heart ache as he remembered Peter's smile.

God, I'm heartbroken over a couple of kids who don't even exist, Dean grumbled mentally.

"Long time no see, Sam. Aren't you all grown up," Abby commented, her eyes sliding up and down Sam's body. Dean grinned at Sam as his cheeks flushed at the down-to-fuck eyes Abby was flashing him.

"God, Abby, it's raining and I'm cold so if you could stop flirting, that'd be great," to Dean and Sam's surprise, Julia appeared behind her older and much taller sister, a disgruntled look on her face.

"Yeah, yeah," Abby rolled her eyes and wrapped her arm around her sister, helping her into the room. Sam took over for her and practically took all of Julia's weight without a problem as Abby shut the door behind them.

"You're supposed to be in the hospital," Dean couldn't help but scold her as he helped Sam sit her down in an empty chair by the table. "What are you doing here?"

"What, are you talking to me now?" Julia grunted in pain as she settled, pulling the hood from her head. She looked worse than the day before; her eyes were darker and there was a large red mark on the left side of her face.

Dean pressed his lips together at her remark, his lips turning down guiltily. He felt so horrible about the way he treated her before and even during the hunt. He felt responsible for what happened; she saved him from the rawhead and he repaid her by not watching her carefully enough. He always hated feeling guilty—it made his stomach hurt. That was the reason why he apologized so quickly when he yelled at Sam or Julia in particular.

"Julia."

Julia grumbled at the warning Abby gave her and answered Dean's original question. "Hospitals freak me out."

Dean's face softened; he grabbed the blanket from his bed and laid it over her lap. It was so strange to see her all bundled up. Usually she ran hot and more often than not, was pushing a blanket away from her. It was kind of lucky, though, since Sam was a cover-hog—so was Dean for that matter.

"Thanks," Julia whispered with a small smile before looking back and forth at the brothers. "Have you guys even slept? You look worse than me."

Dean avoided her eyes as he went to sit on the foot of his bed. Abby joined him, grabbing one of the doughnuts from the box he had forgotten about. As he grabbed the other one, he mumbled, "Had a bad dream."

The only thing bad about that dream was the fact he wasn't in it right now.

"I've been scouring the internet the last twelve hours," Sam informed her, sitting back down in his seat at the table. "And we called every contact in our dad's journal."

Julia gave him a tired yet curious look. "For what?"

"For a way to help you," Abby spoke up before looking over at Sam. "Did you look up that fa—"

"The specialist?" Sam cut her off suspiciously. "Yeah, I did. He's in Gering, Nebraska. Only an hour or two away from here. We should get going, actually..."

"Woah, woah, woah," Julia shook her head weakly. "I don't want to do tests and I don't want to be poked and prodded. Can't a girl die in peace?"

"You're not dying," Dean said gruffly; all eyes turned at him in shock but he stood up and started repacking his bag. "Come on. We're on the road in ten."

-

Dean glared at the tent that he and Sam had driven up to. A large sign was declaring that the preacher, Roy LeGrange, was a faith healer...not a heart specialist like Sam led him to believe. It was bullshit—there were no such thing as a faith healer or miracles like the sign was promising.

"Man, you are a lying bastard," Dean glared at Sam as Abby's Jeep Liberty pulled up in the mud beside the Impala. "You said we were going to see a doctor."

"I said specialist, Dean," Sam corrected him. "It's not my fault you assumed it was a doctor."

Dean rolled his eyes in disbelief.

"Besides," Sam added. "I think Julia would be more comfortable here. She's doesn't like hospitals, especially since—"

"Since Naomi, I know," Dean grumbled, ignoring the thoughtful smile on Sam's face.

He got out of the car and went straight to Julia's side of Abby's Jeep, opening the door for her. To his surprise, and Sam's immense shock, Julia didn't look happy to be here, either.

Sam's face fell. "You don't like faith healers, either?"

"Oh, God, don't," Abby warned them as she came around the Jeep, walking carefully in the thick mud. "She started complaining as soon as she saw that sign."

"Faith healers aren't real!" Julia exclaimed as strongly as she could. "The only person who could heal by faith was Jesus and I doubt that he would go by the name of Roy if he came back already."

Dean snickered as he wrapped an arm around her waist, helping her get down from her seat. He continued to hold onto her when her feet were planting on the ground, knowing that she would need some help to the tent. She was kind of clumsy already but if mud was in the picture, she was done for.

"And I just cleaned these," Julia pouted down at her white converse.

"I'll get you new ones," Sam promised as the four of them started walking toward the tent. "Look, J, this guy is supposed to be the real deal."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Julia muttered bitterly.

An old lady heard her comment. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man," she said indignantly.

"Yeah, keep walking, lady," Dean snapped at her as he helped Julia past a protester, who was complaining about the reverend cheating people out of money, and the cop who was dealing with him. "I take it he's not part of the flock."

"When people see something they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam shrugged.

"Come on, Sam, a faith healer?" even Julia didn't want to do this. It was just something that she thought wasn't real. People took advantage of religious phrases sometimes and faith healers were one of those. They used the faith of naïve people to fatten their wallets.

"Jules, Elijah and Paul healed people in the Bible," Abby pointed out.

Julia shook her head. "Those instances were metaphorical," she disagreed. "They didn't physically heal anyone. They healed them spiritually."

"I don't understand," Sam shook his head at her as they got nearer to the tent. "You believe in God and you're a practicing Christian. Why don't you have faith?"

"I do have faith," she snapped at him; it was like Sam wasn't listening to her. "I have faith in God. The fact that I'm actually alive is an example of God's grace, okay? Just because I don't believe in faith healers, doesn't mean that I—"

"Maybe God works through the faith healers," a blonde girl interrupted Julia, giving the four of them a sweet smile. "Fills them with the Holy Spirit like he did with Jesus."

"Interesting thought," Julia humored her. If that's what the girl wanted to believe, fine. She was an absolute stranger and Julia wasn't the type of person to rag on beliefs that were different than hers. The only reason she was having trouble with Sam was because he was only hoping that this guy would magically heal her.

Quite honestly, she thought that Abby and Sam were in denial about the fact that she was going to die. The only reason she got out of the car was because she didn't want to upset them. She wanted to make the transition of her death easier on them, so she'd go along for now.

"I'm Julia," she introduced herself to the girl and then gestured to the others. "This is my sister, Abby, and that's Sam and Dean."

"Layla," she replied kindly. "and I think you'll be surprised by Reverend LeGrange. God works in mysterious ways, you know."

"True," Julia conceded.

"I better get in there," Layla nodded toward the tent as an older lady walked up to her side. "It's starting soon."

As Layla and the older woman walked into the tent together, Dean muttered, "I bet she works in mysterious ways...Ouch, what the fuck, Abby?"

Julia winced at the dirty looks some people in line were giving them. She turned to Dean and Abby, who had whacked him in the back of his head at his nasty comment, and glared.

"We're at a place of worship," she reminded him through gritted teeth.

Dean had the courtesy to look sheepish. "Sorry."

Julia, Dean, Sam, and Abby entered the tent, the latter two looking for seats in the front so Julia would have a better chance of getting picked by the reverend. Dean's eyes wandered around the tent, scoffing when he saw the camera set up in the corner.

"Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over," he muttered bitterly.

Sam ignored him, as did Julia and Abby, and gestured toward the front of the tent. "Come on."

He grabbed Julia away from Dean's grasp and helped her walk up the aisle to the second row. There just happened to be only three empty seats, so Dean was forced to sit his skeptical ass down in a row toward the back. He and Abby made Julia sit in the aisle seat right behind Layla and her mother.

An old man was led onto the stage, dressed in a nice suit and dark glasses. He was blind but it didn't mean he was helpless. As his wife took a seat at the piano and started to play a welcoming tune, Reverend LeGrange faced the crowd with a kind smile.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news," Roy started his sermon. "Never seems good, does it?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd.

"Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act," Roy continued as Julia eyed the strange crosses on the table behind him. There was one in particular that she didn't like the look of—it didn't look like anything she had seen before.

"But I say to you, God is watching!"

"Yes, he is," someone murmured from the row behind them.

"God rewards the good and he punishes the corrupt," the crowd hummed again and Roy went on, "It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Amen, amen!"

"And today, the Lord is guiding me to one heart in particular," Roy announced. "the young lady in the second row, here."

Julia looked away from the strange cross she was trying to place and over to Reverend LeGrange. Abby was nudging her arm excitedly and Sam looked ecstatic that the reverend picked her.

"What's your name, young lady?" Roy asked as Sue Ann stood from the piano.

Julia cleared her throat. "Julia."

"Julia Ruth," Roy stated and her eyes widened in absolute shock. How he would know her middle name was beyond her. Maybe she was wrong about faith healers after all. Maybe Layla had been right. "Julia, I want you to come up here with me."

The congregation started cheering at the reverend's announcement. Julia hesitated. What made her so special that she would be healed before the others in this tent? It didn't feel right.

"I, uh—"

"You came here to be healed, didn't you?" Roy asked expectantly as Sue Ann moved to the middle of the stage to usher Julia to him.

As Abby nudged her harshly, she said, "Yes."

The crowd cheered again, clapping enthusiastically.

"The Lord has chosen you, Julia Ruth," Roy told her.

Chosen. Hadn't she heard that recently?

Sam leaned around Abby to hiss at her, "Get up there."

Julia slowly got up from her chair and walked up to the stage. She didn't know what was going to happen or if she was actually going to be healed but she had to try, at least. She owed it to her loved ones to try.

Sue Ann grabbed her hand as she got to the steps and helped her onto the stage. She made sure she was right where Roy could reach her.

"You ready?" Roy asked her quietly.

"I-I'm nervous," she hesitated, stammering slightly.

"There's no need to be, Julia Ruth," Roy assured her before turning back to the congregation. "Pray with me, friends."

Julia bowered her head to pray as Roy placed his hand on her shoulder. The energy she was reading off of him was nice and pure-intentioned but there was something around the tent that didn't feel right.

She silently prayed to God and her guardian angel, apologizing for not having faith in her bad times like her mother always told her to. She then pleaded for this to work because she couldn't stand to see the sad faces that Sam, Abby, and Dean would give her if it didn't.

"All right, now," Roy whispered. "All right, now."

The hand on her shoulder slid up to the side of her face, right over the bruise on her cheek. Almost immediately, her heart started to race and her knees weakened. Her body broke out into a cold sweat and her vision blurred as she fell to her knees on the stage.

She could hear murmurs from the crowd but she couldn't really focus on them. A weird feeling came over her the more Roy prayed to heal her. It felt cold; it felt like death.

Her vision went black and it was only a minutes later that she woke up. She had passed out on stage, causing Sam, Dean, and Abby to rush up to her to make sure she was all right.

Dean and Abby were asking her something but she couldn't hear what it was. There was buzzing in her ears and her blurry eyes focused above their shoulders where a man stood. As her vision cleared, she saw that he wasn't really a man. He looked more like a spirit—and he was the one giving off the cold energy.

And then the man disappeared.

-

"Abby, I don't feel right," Julia confessed to her sister as they waited for the doctor to come in with her results.

"What?" Abby gave her an alarmed look as she walked over to the bed she was sitting on. "I thought you said you feel okay?"

"I feel fine, that's the problem," Julia sighed.

Something wasn't right about that man that she saw. And, according to Dean, who she asked when they went to get dinner for everyone the previous night, he didn't see a man behind Roy at all. Everything just seemed suspicious to her. It didn't feel right.

"What do you mean?"

"I—"

Before Julia could tell Abby what was wrong, the doctor walked into the exam room. She held a file in her hands, flipping through the results of the tests she had taken to make sure everything was all right with her heart.

"Well, according to all your tests, there's nothing wrong with your heart," the woman told her with a smile. "No sign there ever was—not that a woman your age should be having heart trouble..." her smile fell slightly. "but I've seen heart issues in patients your age before. It's strange..."

"What is?" Abby asked, furrowed her eyebrows.

"Just yesterday, a young guy in his twenties and athletic had a heart attack," the doctor informed them. "Out of nowhere. No previous issues."

Julia was silent for almost the whole way back to the motel, ignoring Abby's tries for conversation. The only reason she spoke was to call Beth and then Levi to inform them that her heart was better. When they got back, Julia went straight to the room she was sharing with her sister, allowing Abby to share the news with Sam and Dean.

She curled up on her bed, facing the bathroom and pulling her blanket up over her head. She felt horrible, absolutely horrible—and it wasn't physically. She honestly did not think it was a coincidence that the same day her heart condition was healed, someone dropped dead in town with the same thing. That didn't occur naturally.

Something was off about this whole faith healing thing and she was pretty sure that it started with the man she had seen behind Roy after he healed her.

"Julia," Sam entered the room; Julia didn't take the blanket off her bed. "How are you feeling?"

She grunted in response, making him sigh.

"Maybe it was a coincidence about the guy, J," he offered. "I mean, people's hearts give out all the time."

"No, they don't, Sam," Julia grumbled.

"I don't understand why we have to look this one in the mouth," Sam grew frustrated. "Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?"

Julia rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Just go away, Sam!"

Sam sighed dramatically and she heard him say something to Abby and Dean that he couldn't through to her. She wondered who would come in next—Abby or Dean? She assumed it would be Abby because even though she didn't like the sappy or touchy-feely thing, she was better at it than Dean.

It wasn't Abby who came in and ripped the blanket off of her.

"Dean!" she huffed when she looked up and saw him standing above her, slipped into the small amount of space between the bed and the outside of the bathroom. "Stop."

"I don't think so, shortcake."

Julia angrily pursed her lips and flipped over, stubbornly facing the other direction. Dean scoffed—whether it was from amusement or frustration, she didn't know—and literally climbed over her onto the side she was facing. He rearranged himself so he was on his side, facing her.

She could see every freckle on his stupid attractive face. She hated to admit it because she wanted to be angry that this had happened but just the sight of him calmed her down. It wasn't fair.

"Tell me what's going on with you, Junior."

"That feeling I had..."

"The one you told me about last night?" Dean recalled. "The cold energy or whatever behind Roy."

Julia nodded, kinda touched that he listened to her ramble on and on. "Dean, it can't be a coincidence about that guy."

"Sam said he didn't see anything."

"Well, he doesn't have the same abilities I do, does he?" she got defensive.

"Hey," Dean gave her a stern look that had her quieting down. "I'm on your side, shortcake. If you saw something, I believe you."

Julia smiled and reached out, poking the cleft of his chin; Dean's eyes widened in response and but he didn't look uncomfortable. "Thanks, D."

"So, what do you want to do?" Dean asked her. "You wanna go visit the reverend?"

"Do you think it would help?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah and I can get Sammy and Abby to look into the guy's death, okay?"

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna go with you, of course."

-

"So, how are you feeling, Julia Ruth?" Roy asked Julia as she and Dean sat in the seats that Sue Ann offered them in his office.

She wished she knew how he knew that name. The only other person who called her by her first and middle name—other than her parents or siblings when she did something bad—was her guardian angel.

"I'm better," Julia gave Sue Ann a grateful smile as she passed her a glass of sweet tea. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you could answer some questions I have."

"She has this thing where she'll do anything to learn what she can't understand," Dean added as he was passed a glass of sweet tea, too. "She wants to make sense of what happened."

"A miracle is what happened," Sue Ann smiled as she sat in the chair next to Roy. "Miracles come so often around Roy."

Julia smiled, feeling awkward as Roy continued to face her like he was studying her in some way. She knew he was blind but if he knew her middle name, what else could he know about her. "Looks like it."

"When did they start?" Dean asked Roy. "The miracles."

"Woke up one morning, stone blind," Roy shared. "Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh..." he paused. "we prayed for a miracle. I was weak but I told Sue Ann, you just keep on praying."

"My mom used to say that you had to faith in the bad times to see the good times," Julia commented with a fond smile.

Roy grinned. "First Peter, chapter four, verse thirteen: But rejoice in as much you participate in the sufferings of Christ so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed."

Julia nodded. "Or Romans, chapter five, verse three: Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings because we know that suffering produces perseverance."

"You know your stuff, Julia Ruth," Roy said, impressed. Sue Ann beamed at her as he continued the story about the beginnings of his miracles. "So, anyway, I went into a coma and the doctors said I wouldn't wake up. But I did and the cancer was gone. If it wasn't for these eyes—" he took off his glasses to showcase his dazed eyes. "—no one would believe I ever had it."

"And suddenly you could heal people?" Dean spoke up.

"I discovered it afterward, yes," Roy confirmed as he put his glasses back on. "God's blessed me in many ways."

"His flock just swelled overnight," Sue Ann seemed more concern with Roy's popularity than the so-called miracles. "and this is just the beginning."

Dean nodded slowly, giving Sue Ann a suspicious look.

"Can I ask you a couple more questions?"

"Of course you can," Roy said pleasantly.

"Why did you pick me?" Julia wondered quietly. "Out of all the other sick people, why save me?"

Roy was quiet for a few seconds as he gathered his thoughts. "I knew that you were coming this morning, Julia Ruth," he finally said. "I just woke up and knew that you were gonna be in my tent today and the Lord wanted me to use my power to heal you."

Julia blanched, her eyes widening in shock.

"And when the Lord guided me to look into your heart, I could see why," Roy continued. "You have an important purpose in this life—a job to do that isn't finished. I see the same thing in you, too, Dean."

Dean wasn't expecting that. "You do?"

"Of course, I do," Roy confirmed. "Now, what was your other question, sweetheart?"

"I was wondering how you knew my middle name was Ruth."

"Well, like before I just knew," Roy answered. "God works in mysterious ways."

"Yes, he does," Julia nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you so much for your time."

Sue Ann escorted them out of the house, asking about her biblical knowledge as they went. Julia was just explaining that she was graduating with a double major of religion and linguistics when stepped out onto the porch and Layla and her mother happened be walking up the steps at the same time.

"Dean, Julia, hey," Layla greeted them kindly. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel better," Julia forced a smile, still feeling very conflicted about the whole thing.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked the blonde curiously.

Layla hesitated. "You know, my mom," she explained as her mother stepped past Julia and Dean to talk to Sue Ann. "She wanted to talk to the reverend."

"Layla!" Sue Ann called for the younger blonde.

"Yes," Layla joined her mother on the higher steps. "I'm here again."

"Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting," Sue Ann said apologetically. "He won't be seeing anyone else right now."

"Sue Ann, please," Layla's mother begged. "This is our sixth time, he's got to see us."

"Roy is well aware of Layla's situation," Sue Ann began patiently. "and he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke."

Sue Ann gave her one last smile and placed a supporting hand on Layla's shoulder because walking back into her house. Mrs. Rourke turned around to walk back down the steps, looking very disgruntled.

"Why are you still even here?" Mrs. Rourke asked, glaring at Julia. "You got what you wanted."

"Hey," Dean warned her at the same time as Layla sighed, "Mom, stop."

"No, Layla, this is too much," Mrs. Rourke snapped at her daughter. "We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers—" she glared at Julia. "—over you... I just can't pray any harder."

Julia frowned, looking over at Layla in concern. "Layla, what's wrong?"

Layla inhaled sharply. "I have this thing..."

"It's a brain tumor," Mrs. Rourke elaborated when she paused. "It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say—"

Layla cut her mother off, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Layla assured her.

"No, it isn't," Mrs. Rourke denied, turning back to Julia. "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?"

Julia couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

-

"You're not thinking about what Layla's mom said, right?"

Julia didn't reply to Dean right away, keeping her forehead pressed against the passenger window. How could she not think about what Mrs. Rourke said? It was a valid question, especially since her daughter was only supposed to live for six more months. Julia's life wasn't any more important than Layla's.

"You are, aren't you?" Dean's eyes left the road to look at her; she avoided his gaze. "Julia..."

"Well, she was right," she turned to him; he had looked back at the road but Julia was glad because she didn't want to get into a car accident or look back at her with those green eyes that would get her to spill her guts more than she already had.

She didn't like sharing her negative thoughts. And he was going to bother her about it, she was going to call him a hypocrite—he certainly didn't share what was going on in that head of his.

He didn't bother her about it, though. "You have your iPod?" when she nodded, held out an expectant hand. "Give it."

Julia gave him a strange look but dug it out of her purse, handing it over. He placed it on his thigh and, with one hand, dug into the cubby under the radio where Sam kept their iPod jack. He plugged everything in and kept his eyes on the road as he scrolled through her music.

She couldn't help but smile at the familiar piano intro. And then, when Dean opened his mouth to sing, she giggled.

"Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band..." he sung off tune with but he didn't care; he was doing this to cheer her up. He pointed at her as he continued, "Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man."

There was a stinging in Julia's eyes as she watched him sing loudly for her. She was so touched that he was doing this. Dean always sang along to his music but it was never this kind of music. And this song, her mom's favorite song...

"But, oh, how it feels so real, lying here with no one near, only you—sing along, Jules!" Dean's voice got louder as the music built up. "and you can hear me and I say softly, slowly...all together, now!"

"Hold me closer, tiny dancer!" Julia loudly joined in with him, her smile so large it hurt her mouth. "Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today..."

Her mood dropped when they got back to the motel and Abby and Sam told them what they found out about the guy who had the heart attack the day before.

"Marshall Hall died at four-seventeen," Abby said somberly.

Julia sighed and plopped down at the foot of Sam's bed. "The exact same time I was healed."

"Yeah."

"I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed—six people over the past year—and I cross-checked them with the local obits," Sam spoke up from behind his laptop. "Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptoms LeGrange was healing at the time."

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone dies of cancer?" Dean assumed.

Sam nodded. "Somehow, LeGrange is trading a life for another."

Julia wrinkled her nose, pressure building behind her eyes. Her stomach twisted nauseously. Marshall Hall died to save her. An innocent man was dead because of her. It was like she took a knife and stabbed him in the heart herself.

"You shouldn't have brought me here," she whispered thickly, wiping at her eyes before any tears could fall.

"We didn't know, Jules," Abby moved to sit by her, taking one of her hands. "We were just trying to save your life."

"An innocent man is dead because of me."

"Julia, the guy probably would've died anyway and someone else would have been healed," Sam tried to make her feel better; he didn't. "What I don't understand is how Roy is doing it. How is he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh, he's not doing it," Dean's voice was low in anger. "Something else is doing it for him."

Sam gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

"Remember the old man you saw on stage, Jules?" when Dean looked at her, she nodded. "When you told me about it, I didn't want to believe it but deep down I knew."

"You knew what?" Abby wondered. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Think about it, Abby," Dean prompted her. "There's only one thing that can give and take life like that."

Abby inhaled sharply. "A reaper."

Dean nodded. "Exactly."

"You really think it's the Grim Reaper?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

"No, not the reaper, a reaper," Dean corrected him. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on Earth. They go by a hundred different names. It's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But J said she saw a dude in a suit," Sam reminded him.

"What, you think he should have been working the whole black-robe thing?"

"Sam, the clock stopped," Abby stated. "Reapers stop time and you can only see them when they're coming at you, which is why Julia could see it but not any of us."

"Maybe," Sam still wasn't convinced. He looked to Julia for help but she was staring down at her lap; he could tell by the faraway look in her hazel eyes that she wasn't listening.

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam," Dean said harshly as Julia focused back in. "The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

"What about that cross?" Julia suggested.

"The one with a circle around the top?" Sam asked; she nodded.

Dean gave them a confused look. "What?"

"There was a weird cross at the church," Sam explained as he pulled a pack of cards off the table, rifling through them. "I knew I had seen it before. Here."

He handed Dean a specific card. Dean looked it over and snorted. "A Tarot?"

"Let me see," Abby left her spot next to Julia to grab the card Dean was looking at. "Yeah, it makes sense. A Tarot dates back to the early Christian era when some priests were still using magic. A few of them veered into dark stuff—Necromancy, how to push death away, how to cause it..."

"So, Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper."

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind," Sam took the card back from Abby. "It's like putting a dog leash on a Great White."

"Honestly, I don't think Roy's doing it," Julia spoke up, earning her three shocked looks.

Abby raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"When Dean and I went to talk to him, I could sense that he was telling the truth," Julia explained. "I think he truly believes that he's the one actually healing people."

"Okay," Sam knew to trust Julia when she spoke up about her abilities. "so, who's doing it?"

Julia looked over at Dean. "The one who seemed more worried about Roy's so-called flock."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Sue Ann."

"The wife?" Abby asked skeptically.

"Even when Roy and Julia were comparing bibles verses, she said only one thing," Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "and it was about Roy's popularity."

"She's got a self-important vibe," Julia added. "What if it's because she's picking people she thinks aren't moral?"

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Could be."

"Okay, so we stop Sue Ann," Dean declared.

"How?"

"You know how," Dean answered Sam.

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about, Dean?" Sam said incredulously. "We can't kill Roy."

"I agree with Dean," Abby added her two cents. "She's playing God, deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."

"We're not going to kill a human being!" Sam protested. "We do that and we're no better than she it."

"Okay, so we can't kill Sue Ann, we can't kill death," Dean sighed, pursing his lips in displeasure. "Any bright ideas, college boy?"

Sam gave Dean a dirty look but rose to the challenge. "Okay, if Sue Ann's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta figure out what it is and how to break it."

-

In the end, they stopped Sue Ann. The reaper was released from her hold and turned the tables back on her, killing her. The only downside of the whole thing was that Layla was just about to be healed and now she wouldn't at all. Finishing the case was bittersweet but in the end, they did the right thing. Sue Ann was playing God and she had needed to be stopped.

Now that everything was done, Abby was taking her leave from Julia and the Winchesters.

"Be careful," Julia pulled her sister into a hug as all four of them stood in the motel parking lot.

"You too," Abby kissed her forehead. "Don't let those boys get you into any more trouble."

"Hey, she does that all by herself," Dean spoke up, sending the sisters an innocent look. "She's a troublemaker."

"True."

"What? I am not!"

"Mmhm," Abby rolled her eyes and nudged Julia's shoulder. "See you in a few weeks?"

"Yeah," Julia confirmed. "Hey, what are you getting Levi? I haven't come up with anything."

"You know how he is," Abby rolled her eyes; their big brother was as serious as they come. He was quiet and he kept to himself, not having many other interests other than work or the gym. "but I'm paying for a year of his gym membership."

"Oh, that's good," Julia pouted, wishing that she would have come up with that. "Well, I'm sure I'll figure it out."

Abby nodded and then turned to Sam and Dean. "Sam, Dean, pleasure to see you two, as always. Take care of my baby sister."

"We will," Sam promised her with a smile. "Bye, Abby."

Abby winked at him, making Dean smirk at his brother, and then smiled at Julia one more time. "Love you, sis."

"Love you, too."

An hour later, in the backseat of the Impala, Julia fell into a deep sleep.

The four types flowers that had filled the field were gone. It was just a grassy field on a sunny day with her sitting in the middle. Julia looked up expectantly, waiting for her angel to make an appearance.

And he did.

"I told you, Julia Ruth. You are Chosen."

(Gif is not mine)

#supernatural rewrite #dean winchester x oc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x original character

[robotsandzombiesarebi]

Looking at the same sky

HSS (CA)

MC (Bailey Westlake)

MC x Skye

Notes: This is my first attempt at a choices fanfic so I hope I can do some justice. This is going to be a few instalments long so bear with it. Hope you enjoy.

————————

Bailey wiped the sweat from her brow as she rushed from table to table, trying to clear with one hand and jot down orders with the other. The Golden Griddle was swarmed with people as it usually was on a Friday evening. Cedar Cove was a nice town, but there wasn’t much of a dating scene which left young couples with the choice of the arcade, the beach or the Golden Griddle. While balancing a small stack of dishes on her bent elbow, Bailey held the note pad and pen, turning to the next table without taking her concentration off of the precariously balanced stack. 

“Welcome to the Golden Griddle” She said, breathlessly. “What can I get you?”

“A black coffee…. and a kiss.” Said the soft voice that Bailey could only just notice.

“OK, that’ll be out for you in just a sec.” With that, she rushed to the window that joined the kitchen to the dining room. “Hey Casey. We need 3 Apple pie slices for table six, franks and eggs for table two and a black coffee and a kiss for table five. I’ll get the coffee if you pass out the rest.”

She ran the tap that poured out piping hot water, quickly nudging a cup in to the stream. After stirring in the coffee and setting it on a dish with a few small sugar packets she called back to Casey. “How are those orders coming?”

“Here’s table two and six.” Casey chuckled as he passed the plates through the opening.

“What about table five?”

“Bailey, read the order.”

“I did! Black coffee, which I’ve done, and a…” She stopped short, looking slowly up at the table across the diner where she saw the familiar shine of deep red waves spilling over the matching stripes of a tight top.

There sat Skye Crandall, trying her best not to burst with laughter at Bailey’s obliviousness. Bailey turned and scowled at Casey for not correcting her sooner. She quickly tore open the sugar packets, emptying six into the dark drink before rushing it over to the table where her girlfriend sat.

“Hi…” Bailey said with a tired smile.

“Hey yourself. Sorry about the order, I just know how you get in to work and couldn’t resist messing with you a little.” Skye smirked.

“It’s fine. I should have recognised your voice.” Bailey laughed, setting the coffee in front of Skye. “I already poured your ridiculous amount of sugar. Why do you have so much anyway?”

“The coffee here is really bitter. My mom always buys this almond infused stuff so I don’t have as much at home. What time do you finish?”

“Maybe another hour or so. Why? Are you going to whisk me away?”

“Um, no? But I wondered if you wanted to walk me home. But only if you want to. No obligation or anything.” Skye stammered.

“I’d love to, as long as you don’t mind waiting. Where have you been?”

“Nowhere, just thought I’d come see you at work. Is that weird?”

“Wait. You came all this way to see me for a hot minute at work and you’re worried I’ll say no to walking you home?”

“Urgh, I knew this weird. I’ll just leave.”

“NO!… I mean, no, stay. I’ll finish up as quickly as I can, then I’m all yours.”

Skye laughed. The faint embarrassed blush creeping away from her cheeks. “All mine?”

“All yours.” Bailey said with a salute as she walked backwards to get back to work. As she turned, she collided with a large frame, knocking herself to the floor while the person she bumped into stood firm.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry.” She squeaked as she scrambled to her feet. Looking up she saw the person she had crashed into was Jordan Daniels (JD). The most popular girl in school, captain of the football team and victim of the leg breaking incident of Bailey’s first day at Berry. “Oh, JD. Sorry!”

“You said that already” She laughed, straightening her clothes. “Its fine, no harm done. Are you OK?”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good. Just overworked.”

“Yeah…” JD said as she glanced around the diner. “Its usually pretty quiet in here. Serves me right for craving your dad’s chilli-cheese dogs on a Friday, huh.”

“Yep. It’s like…”

“BAILEY!” A stern voice interrupted. “Come on, there’s people waiting.” Came her dad’s voice from the kitchen.

“Sorry! Can you start a chilli-cheese dog please?”

“Oh, and a double strawberry shake and fries?” JD called out to Bailey’s dad, doing her best Bailey impression; laughing when he failed to notice, also buried under his workload. “We’ll be in the corner booth, Bailey.” She smiled, making her way over to the beautiful blonde sitting across the diner.

Bailey continued her work, clearing table after table and waving goodbye to customers as the diner slowly started to clear out. When just a few patrons remained, she caught her dad’s eye and gave him a pleading look, motioning towards Skye. He gave a stiff nod, and barely hid the sorrowful look on his face as he turned back to finish clearing down the kitchen. 

“Time to go” Bailey said with a grin as she put out a hand for Skye to take. “Sorry you had to wait. I hate Friday shifts.” 

“its OK, really. i wasn’t expecting you to just drop your work for me.”

“But, you know i definitely would if i could. I’d give anything for more time with you.” at that, Skye looked taken aback.

“You really mean that don’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“I do.” Bailey laced her fingers through Skye’s as they walked together. “And i always will.” The two of them walked closely through the town in time to see the lights of the stores and other restaurants shutting off. The night was quiet aside from the occasional rumble of a motorcycle passing somewhere close by. They walked in silence for most of their journey. This was a usual thing. Skye wasn’t much of a talker at the best of times and Bailey was glad to enjoy the peace after the rush of the diner. Another usual thing that occurred was, the closer they got to Skye’s family home, the more she would start striking up things to talk about. Bailey could easily recognise what was happening. Skye would try to keep her talking for as long as possible to buy herself valuable minutes before re-entering the house and switching her attention from the one person who brought her serenity to those who gave her nothing but stress and anxiety. 

Midway through Skye talking about a new movie they should go and see, (not even one she would usually be interested in, but that was irrelevant right now), Bailey cut her off.

“Hey, so tell me if this is too forward, but…” She blushed furiously, earning herself a half smirk from the darkened lips of the beautiful girl before her. “…Did you want me to ask my parents if you can stay over tonight?”

Now it was Skye’s turn to blush. Her face heated at the mild implication and her breath caught in her throat. “Um, yeah… Yeah, that sounds, nice.”

Without wasting another second, Bailey called her mom and had to focus to stop herself from bouncing on the spot with nervous energy.

“Hello?” Her Mom answered.

“Mom…..” Bailey dragged the word out, tryng to soften the blow of what she was about to ask. “Skye and i were wondering….”

“Are you about to ask me if she can stay over for the night?” Her voice had a slight teasing tone which sounded positive to Bailey.

“Yes. But!… I’ll keep my door open a crack and we’ll just be watching movies and its not like she never stayed over before, but this time there’s no one else to worry about. Also, i’ll walk Biscuit every day for the next month, even the days that Casey owes me and you definitely let Erin stay over super late for Casey and i am technically the older sibling…”

“Bailey!” her mom’s voice rang through so loud that the phone was almost unnecessary. “Thank you for being mature enough to ask me, and you do make a very convincing argument. But i’m afraid tonight just wont do sweetie”

“oh… OK. but, why not?” She asked, sounding as though the breath had been pulled from her body along with every ounce of her excitement.

“Your Dad and I need to talk to you and your brother. Don’t worry, the discussion is not off the table. We’ll talk about it very soon OK?”

“Yeah, OK Mom. i’ll head home now.” They said their “I love you”s and hung up. Bailey turned back to Skye who had a look of grim acceptance on her face, her eyes flicking repeatedly over to the lit-up window of the living room of her house. More-so, the shadows that kept passing it. “I’m sorry Skye” 

“It’s OK. At least i always know i have you near, and if i need you, you’ll come rescue me, right?” 

“Always” Bailey smiled 

“Then there’s nothing for me to worry about, right?”

“Right!” Bailey pulled Skye by their still linked hands in to a tight embrace. it was never going to be long until they saw each other again, but the moments in between haunted Bailey. Knowing what the Crandalls were like was bad enough, but what truly haunted her were the things she was sure Skye didn’t tell her. 

“Get home safe, OK?” Skye whispered against the tender skin of Bailey’s neck.

“You be safe too.” She said concernedly 

“Duh, i live right there…” Skye smirked, pointing to the house a few feet from them. Bailey smiled back but was sure that Skye knew what she meant and was just covering up her own worry. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow” She waved as she walked out of the yard and on to the streets. “I love you.”

At that they both stopped, still getting used to the three words passing beautifully between them. 

“I love you too.” Skye smiled earnestly before opening the front door and disappearing inside.

The walk home wasn’t far from Skye’s house and though it wasn’t cold out, Bailey could feel the chill on her hand and up her arm, in all the places that Skye had been making contact on their walk together. Seeing her house come in to view, her mind began to wander. Thoughts of how different things could have been tonight, if Skye had been allowed to stay with her. First came exhilaration of the possibilities of having her first serious girlfriend to herself all night, and the things that they had talked about up until now, maybe, finally happening for real instead of just fantasies. Exhilaration gave way to worry when she thought of where the girl she loved was instead. In a pit of vipers that hiss as venomously as they bite, and her alone to face them.

Forcing herself to push the negative thoughts aside, promising silently that she would text Skye as soon as she was in her room to check in, she opened the door to her home. What she saw inside was curious. Both of her parents looking extremely guilty, and Casey just looking confused.

“Whats going on?” she asked, looking from one member of her family to another.

“Bailey, come and sit down. You need to hear this.” Her mom said calmly. Bailey made her way to the dining table where they were sat, trying to figure out the unfamiliar look on her twins face. “The thing is honey…”

Before she had a chance to finish her thought, Casey stood abruptly up, knocking his chair over with the force. “They’re making us move, Bailey! Regardless of our friends, our relationships, our school!”

She was sure she could still faintly hear Casey yelling, but her ears rushed and her head span. Fighting past the feeling of sawdust in her mouth, Bailey only managed two words before the tears pricking at her eyes threatened to spill.

“But…No….

To be continued.

#high school story #hss #hssca #high school story class act #skye #skye crandall #pixelberry fanfiction #pixelberry #angst #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices #skyexmc #skye x mc #mc x skye #mcxskye

[gay4eraser]

Okay okay for Konnyboy, 1-10, 12, 13, 18, 21, 26, 30, 31, 36, 42, 45, aaaaand uhhh 49

babe p l s lol 

A LOT about fighty boi (in bnha universe) under readmore! 

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything? 

Konstantin Ezekial Blovasky! He was named primarily because his father was a Russian immigrant and his mom wanted to embrace his father’s culture along with hers. There’s not much sentimental thought put into Kon’s name, and tbh I can’t actually remember much about my thought process behind naming him 

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them? 

Uhhhhhhhh h h hh h hhh hh h h He technically should have a few military ranks and he was honorably discharged, but see, the thing is I have enough military knowledge to fake it to someone who knows nothing about the military. Idk enough to actually say what ranks or whatever he has. 

He was, however, a Warden... though if you call him that you’d better be prepared to run 

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? 

Kon had a terrible childhood, partially because he grew up believing he was quirkless. He also grew up the son of an immigrant and a rather helpless, chubby child - Kon as a kid was always getting into fights and learned very quickly how to fight back. 

His mom is absolutely the majority of his fondest memories - Mama B taught him how to use a gun, how to treat a lady, she raised a proper gentleman through and through and she was a redneck badass alllllllll the way. 

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? 

Kon never knew his dad Stephen, because his father’s citizenship in the US was dependent on him completing several tours in the United States military. This is actually a pretty normal way to get a US citizenship and Kon’s father was pretty glad to do it. He met Theresa and they got married right before he left - technically he could’ve gotten citizenship through the marriage, but the marriage itself was last minute. 

Unfortunately Stephen was killed in a training accident when Kon was a baby and it lead to Kon’s extreme dislike of people mishandling or joking around with guns. One of Kon’s worse memories is his mother crying as she sobbed out how his father died when she considered him old enough. 

One of Kon’s BEST memories is his mother watching proudly as he left on his first tour. His absolute worst memory is coming home to nobody. 

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults? 

Nope! Kon’s a single child, Theresa was too heartbroken to have another husband. 

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Kon didn’t enjoy school because despite his straight to the point nature he’s really not a school type person. He got rather middling grades that bordered on nearly failing when he had some particularly rough years. He was a very angsty, angry teen. He ended up leaving high school and heading into the military right away once he graduated. 

Though he usually enjoyed history and government classes, rules and systems work great for him. He HATED any classes that had philosophy in them because high school teachers are never looking for proper philosophical answers they’re looking for a Specific Answer lol 

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? 

Kon had a few people he hung out with - and like, two girlfriends - but no, not anyone he kept contact with. Nobody was particularly surprised when he left and never came back. 

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? 

Kon had a pet goldfish as a child and then his mom proceeded to get him a brand new one every time it died. This led Kon to believe he had one goldfish most of his childhood when in fact, neither of them were good at taking care of aquatic animals. The goldfish was named Mike and Kon didn’t learn the Truth until he graduated high school and was rather Horrified 

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? 

He likes them well enough. They’re a responsibility and he doesn’t see much reason to have them. He’s perfectly content to interact with other people’s animals and never have his own. Most animals are ambivalent towards him. 

10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect? 

Kon is both a GREAT and a TERRIBLE influence on children. He won’t lie, he doesn’t blunt the hard truth, and he cusses like a motherfucking sailor. This means that when babysitting, kids LOVE him, but their parents certainly do not. He’s the PERFECT caretaker for traumatized, cynical children whomst hate society 

He ends up adopting the two lovely genderless duo Andi and Rosey and Kon is officially a Dad. He’s so weak. He didn’t expect to be overcome with so much emotion. The kids fall asleep on him one night and he carries them to bed and he actually stops and cries because. Oh my god. He has children. They’re so precious. 

12. What is their favourite food? 

He doesn’t much care about food but he likes corn nuts. Unfortunately he can’t really eat them after the Desert Incident because his jaw is weak on the left side and corn nuts are HARD AF. He’ll still suck on the barbecue ones. 

13. What is their least favourite food?

Again, he’s not really into food stuff. He can’t stand anything Hot after the Uncident though and he hates liquids because they tend to spil out of his mouth easily. 

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Kon loves mystery novels, watching and bitching good naturedly about shitty reality TV/soap operas/B-Movies, and every time he calls the plot like ten minutes in. The kids are so mad. 

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

Kon is odd, certain things will trigger his temper very easily, and he’s VERY easily irritable, but in certain situations he can be surprisingly patient, like with kids. He gets very pissy very fast with grown ass adults who should know better. Kon cusses a lot as a general rule but he can get downright vicious with the cursing and insults when somebody pisses him off. And while he doesn’t resort to violence without due reason, he really, really is not above whooping someone’s ass just because they pissed him off. 

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Kon is usually oddly quiet when he’s happy. Sometimes he may smile idly or just sit and stare off, chilling. If he’s around people he doesn’t like he ups the cheerful factor just to fuck with them, because he’s a known Grouchy Asshole. But in private he’ll possibly hum and rumble, talking to himself. He has a very nice gravelly/raspy voice. He also may seek out casual physical affection when relaxed and happy. Just holding hands or a hand on someone’s arms or bumping shoulders. 

30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out? 

Kon is probably letting himself go at “this” current point and he doesn’t work out as often as he should. When he gets really, really angry he goes to a gym and beats up people/punching bags until he’s black and blue. But otherwise he’s mostly just older muscle hidden under some chub. 

After all, exercising means you get sweaty and very, very hot. 

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

Kon never drinks. If he does get drunk, he’s a giggly dissociate drunk who stares off into the distance and chuckles ominously. 

36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing?

Kon’s good at managing and following orders. He’s also good at breaking orders when he needs to. He... doesn’t really have hobbies? Having a pseudo-personality take over your entire mental state and leaving you with several years of blurry, blank memories kind of fucks up your concept of self. He’s honestly trying to figure out what he even likes at this point. Reading and being a Dad seems to be a good thing that he likes. 

He in fact can sing, but not very traditionally well. He’s a bit tone deaf as well but his voice is really nice to listen to regardless. He’s pretty deep! 

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

See, Kon has no idea at this point. 

After the Incident and the People, he barely even knows his own mind anymore. He’s trying to rediscover himself and what he even cares about. His whole life is going through a crisis. 

However, he does seem to enjoy the kids, and he damn well will drop everything and anything to take care of them and protect them. He’s quickly learning that caring about himself might be hard but he damn well can care about others. 

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

People who don’t know him personally see him as a rough, grouchy, constantly scowling asshole. And... he is. 

But people who know him better know that he’s just a rather private person who’s been through a lot and they can tell when he’s in good moods or not. He sees himself as an honest, serious man who isn’t very social or very good at the social game. He’s very well aware of the type of person he puts himself out to be though. It helps keep people away generally. 

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Kon used to have a picture of him and his mom that he used to carry around with him. Somewhere around a certain timeframe, he lost it... he feels really shitty about it. Otherwise he’s not too sentimental. 

#ask #konstantin blovasky #bnha oc #bnha #ask meme #bloopsalot

[searchforthescars]

Litany - 2/?

Hey it’s me, back at it again. 

Shoutout to @bombshellsandbluebells for everything. Y’all already know she’s a rockstar.

Also, so you know, I do read all your tags on my fics when you reblog them and I turn into the human ‘!!!!!’ at them. So thank you <3

So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalog of non-definitive acts, something other than the desperation. Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party. Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

Then

The con was perfect.

She revels in it as she leaves the club. She’s good at faking, good at weaving clever lies and pretend tears. She can bend anyone to her will, and it feels so damn good.

“Em!” her brother waves to her, weaving through the crowd. He’s been drinking; the color is high in his cheeks, and his eyes are just unfocused enough to make him sway on his feet. “How’d it go?”

She grins, high on success, cocky in her satisfaction. “Perfectly.” Then, with a satisfied grin, “You’re welcome.”

His eyes smile at her, catch on something over her shoulder, and his face falls. “Shit, Em, we have to go.”

She turns on her heel, looking behind her, trying to catch sight of the thing terrifying enough to horrify her brother. “Why?”

When she looks back, Otan is gone.

Emori is a horrible person.

She already knows this, but she reminds herself as she looks in the mirror, the glass still foggy from her shower.

When she had heard John screaming through the walls last night, her first instinct was to yell “shut up!” and go back to sleep. But she wasn’t in prison anymore, and John was shouting like someone was coming for his blood. Still, she hesitated to get up and save him from the horrors in his head.

So yes. A horrible person. [Read more on Ao3]

She wonders what came over her - why she followed him outside last night. Then she wonders why he was screaming, what is following him so closely that he never has any peace. It’s not any of her business, it really isn’t, but the broken thing inside him is clawing its way out, and she’s always been a lover of broken things.

She has three classes today, back-to-back, starting at noon. She waited to get up until she heard Raven, Lexa, Octavia and the boys leave. It’s just her and John now.

The thought should terrify her. Instead, she feels only a flutter of anxiety, one she doesn’t plan on examining the cause of just yet.

She dries off, gets dressed and goes downstairs, her wet hair slapping against her leather jacket, which is basically the nicest thing she owns aside from her knife set.

“Coffee?” John asks without turning around, sliding her a mug. She takes it in her good hand, feels the warmth of the ceramic, sips at it, and grimaces at the taste.

“It’s black.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Cures exhaustion.”

She downs it in mere minutes. Her stomach rumbles but she doesn’t dare go through the fridge. She hasn’t gone grocery shopping yet, and nothing in there is hers. She hasn’t even opened up a bank account, and the $50 sewn into the lining of her backpack is going to disappear faster than she would like.

She doesn’t need to eat - at least, not yet. She needs a job. She needs some sleep. She needs to pretend the last five years were nothing. Not necessarily in that order.

“Do you think I should get my tattoo removed?” she asks John suddenly, breaking the stillness of the kitchen. Anyone else and she’d be shrinking in her seat right now, but he’s different. She senses something in him, a small thing, like a brief flame - something that shivers and aches to be wanted even as he pushes all hope of that away.

They’re one and the same, she supposes - both alike in their hatred and want of the world.

“Which one? The one on your face?” A grimace of guilt shivers over his expression. She wonders why.

“Yeah.” She taps her left hand against her knee. The fingers twitch, sweat in her wrap. She doesn’t take it off. “It’ll keep me from getting a job, right?”

John shrugs, an easy thing. The slim lines of his shoulders are appealing. When he turns his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye, she sees his sharp cheekbones and dry lips. I’d like to bite those lips, she thinks, and then wants to thump her head against the counter in frustration.

“No,” he answers. “Screw them. Cover it up with makeup if you want to, but don’t take it off.”

He says it forcefully, as if he’s pushing words from his lungs with great effort - as if it costs himself something to give them up. She watches him, wary, but he says no more.

“All right then,” she says.

An endless silence stretches before them. His phone vibrates on the kitchen counter. He looks at it and gives a small sound of disgust. She peers at it just as it starts ringing.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” she asks.

“No.” He swears under his breath, then swipes the phone open. “Leave me alone,” he growls, then hangs up.

Emori slips from the stool, reaching for her backpack. She doesn’t look up, and she doesn’t look back.

Classes are blissfully mundane, a departure from crowded prison computer labs, every due date a fight to the finish. She might be “street trash,” as her old foster family reminded her, but she was - is - smart.

There’s a nontraditional student in her beginner’s public health class. Her name is Anya, and Emori likes her instantly. There’s something about her sharp tongue, her harsh tone and her no-nonsense approach to the system’s failings that appeals to Emori.

She rips the lining of her backpack to get to her money, then goes to the small grocery store near the school. She buys cereal, coffee, milk, bread and ham. It costs her fifteen dollars. She also pockets a Swiss Army knife and two chocolate bars. She doesn’t pay for those.

There’s a strange ache settling in her, a longing of sorts - a sadness rising up to choke her. She’s afraid, she thinks, and nervous. What is she doing here? What is she trying to prove? She’s stupid and small and, shit , what if she had been caught stealing. She would have been sent back for sure.

She feels herself shiver in the September heat. She can’t go back. Won’t. She grits her teeth, bares them, frightens a pigeon cooing at the street corner.

“Hey! Emori!” It’s Octavia, standing on that same street corner, books cradled in her arms, her brother at her side. She looks happy, content and safe. It makes Emori want to scream, but she bites her tonge and molds her lips into a smile. She seethes on the inside even as she, but on the inside, she’s seething. She’s a closed book, a ghost in a house of self-made pain. She is nothing if not a con artist. Her ability to fool others with her bravado, sharp smiles and  pretty tongue is nothing new.

She watches herself, as if from a distance, greet the younger girl and nod at her brother. She feels relief when he doesn’t nod back.

“How were classes?” Bellamy is asking both of them. Emori lets Octavia talk. She watches herself pay attention, kick a rock off the sidewalk. Octavia is talking about chemistry. Emori is thinking about the feeling of a swing set chain, cold against her forehead. She’s thinking about her naked hand, John’s fingers, his claim that it is “badass” to be deformed and unwanted.

“Mine were okay,” she answers on autopilot when the siblings turn to look at her. They’re so alike with their angular jaws, harsh noses and lips set automatically into fine lines. Their skin is nothing alike, nor is their hair, but if you saw them for half a second, you would know they belonged to each other.

She and Otan never shared that. They were asymmetrical in all the wrong ways.

Bellamy holds out a hand. “May I? I’m going to the house anyway.”

He wants to carry her bag of groceries. What a gentleman, she thinks wryly. She hands it over. The knife and chocolate in her pocket are heavy. The chocolate is probably melting. She takes it from her jacket and tucks it in with the milk to keep it cold.

“Why are you wearing a jacket?” Octavia asks bluntly. “It’s, like, a hundred degrees out.”

“It’s only 87,” Bellamy corrects mildly, but he’s wondering too.

Emori shrugs. “Thought the classrooms might be cold.” The lie is good.

She smiles to herself. Of course it’s good. It’s her. 

John has paper taped to his walls.

She didn’t see that last night. She only saw him, his flailing limbs, his contorted body and all the ways his face screamed for help. When she walks past, it flaps in the breeze from the open window. He’s smoking. A bottle of beer sits on the floor.

“Hey stranger.” She taps on the doorframe. “Care for a bite?”

He looks confused until she tosses him a chocolate bar. “Doesn’t chocolate go with wine?” he asks, bemused, tentative.

“Wine’s too bougie for us,” she replies, laughing slightly. “Can I come in?”

He blinks at her. His eyes are blue, rimmed with a dark edge. Beautiful. So beautiful. “Sure.”

She sits on the floor with him. She takes off her jacket, watches his eyes follow her arms, the jut of her collarbone under her v-neck. Chills run down her spine, but in a good way.

He bites into the chocolate, eyes on the wall ahead of them. The paper on the walls are pages from books. From here, she can read some of it, but not all. Lines jump out at her, lines he has underlined, highlighted, destroyed by circling with a harsh black pen.

I’m sorry I came to your party and seduced you and left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

Poor sad thing. Is that him? Someone else? Who hurt him? Why is she here, sitting on his floor, sitting beside this boy who locks his bedroom door at night, but leaves it open in the morning? Why is she here, in the dust, looking out at an endless sky, a college town, the endless possibilities that belong to everyone but her?

“You ever going to tell me what you were in for?”

It takes a moment for her to realize he’s talking about prison. “You’ll have to earn that,” she replies. A smirk, a grin, and he’s blushing, eyes cast down, beautiful lips spread in an almost-smile.

“How do I do that?”

She hums, reaches for his bottle. “Answer for answer.” She takes a swig, hands it back to him. “Who was calling you this morning.”

“Someone I wish I had never met.” A sip, a sidelong look. “Why were you arrested?”

“I was careless. I got caught.” A bite of chocolate, sugar sliding down her throat. Her leg itches. She unties her boots. “What did you dream about last night?”

His eyes darken. “Not being able to say no.” He stiffens, gets to his feet. She scrambles up, and his body shifts to accommodate her invasion into his space. They stand before one another, nearly head-to-chin, arms-to-hands. He takes her left one in his and runs his hand over the cloth. “Why do you hate this so much?”

She’s breathing hard. He is too. He licks his lips, and she feels a shock in her veins. “I- it’s-”

Fuck. The best lies hold truths. So where is her lie? Where is the only thing she has to fall back on?

She looks at his face, eyes searching hers, wide-set over a long nose. “It’s the worst thing about me.” Honest enough to hurt her.

Bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

He scoffs. “I doubt that.” He turns away. The game is over, and she is standing there, vulnerable, in the center of a room that isn’t hers, a house that isn’t hers, a life that isn’t hers.

“It’s a reminder,” she starts, and she’s whispering. Why is she whispering? “It’s a reminder-” she starts again, louder this time, “that I am nothing. That I will always be nothing. That I am erasable and alone.”

You poor sad thing.

John turns. “Emori.” His voice cracks on the second syllable. “You… fuck. ”

She flinches. On the inside, a knife is connecting with her cheek; the club’s music hammers in time with her heart; her brother is on the other side of bulletproof glass, but he is not himself.

“You are not nothing,” John whispers vehemently, desperately, surging forward to grab hold of her bad hand. “You’re not . Don’t ever say that.”

She looks at his hand on hers. Her eyes fill with tears. Her shoulders tremble once, twice, her hand twitches, and then he’s lurching backward as if she’s slapped him.

“I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry- I’ll-”

“Don’t be.” She reaches into her pocket, wraps her hand around the cold pocketknife. “I...I’ll go.”

He nods, turns away, reaches for the empty beer bottle. She closes the door behind her, hears a loud epithet and breaking glass. The bottle wasn’t meant for her, but the shards on the other side of the wall cut her all the same.

She goes outside after dinner, and sees Jasper lying in the grass.

“You okay?” she asks. He turns his head, and she sees tears on his cheeks. “Shit, what’s wrong?”

He laughs, ugly and broken. The cheerful boy she met last night is peeling off his mask. “Life fucking sucks, that’s what.”

“Care to elaborate?” It’s what one of her professors says. She likes it, likes the way she coaxes ideas out without making them obvious, without making a wrong answer shameful.

“Oh, right,” he laughs again. Someone so young shouldn’t sound so bitter. “You weren’t here.” He pats the grass beside his leg, and she sits. “I had this girlfriend, Maya. But it wasn’t some stupid high-school romance where you get one another off once in a while and kiss under the bleachers.” He sniffs. “It was real. She was real. Real and beautiful and funny. She liked art. Really depressing art, which was fucking hilarious because she was so happy and innocent.”

Emori sits, plucking at the glass with her bad hand, listening to Jasper as he spills his guts, purging himself of a story she understood, the bloody truth of an accident and a bad surgery and a young boy having to watch the girl he loved waste away to nothing.

Bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

“That sucks,” she says when he’s finished.

“Yeah.” He sits up, groans, rubs the back of his neck. “I’ve been a shitty friend to Monty. I was horrible to him; hell, I tried to kill myself last year, and I don’t think he’s gotten over it.”

“You two are like brothers,” she reasons quietly. “That kind of thing doesn’t go away overnight.”

“Am I ever going to be okay?” he asks, quietly vulnerable. A light on the front porch switches on. When she looks over her shoulder, John is leaning against the railing, another cigarette in hand, close enough to hear Jasper’s question and her answer.

“I think,” she starts slowly, “I think your ‘okay’ has to change. You’ll always want her. You’ll always miss her. But I-” I have to believe it stops hurting after a while. “I think you’ll feel better the longer you live.”

She hears John shift. She isn’t sure if what she said was a lie or the truth. She’s prepared to believe it’s both.

“Have you ever lost someone?” he asks.

The pain, a dull and rusty knife, plunges into her heart. “Yes,” she answers quickly, not thinking, not feeling. She had her time of mourning in a prison cell.

“How did you deal with it?”

She smirks, remembering. John lights a second cigarette. “I started a yard fight in prison.”

Jasper laughs, nods in appreciation or respect. “Did you win?”

She nods. “They said it was too close to tell. But I won.”

They sit in silence for a while, near the tree full of screaming crickets, the abandoned bird’s nest. John goes inside, up to his room. Raven is talking on the phone. A tall girl with long messy hair - Luna, she learns - sits on the railing of the back deck and looks up at the sky. Bellamy sits beside her and they talk. Monty brings Jasper inside. A car rolls past the house. Emori loses herself in the press and slide of the world turning, the rise and fall of her own chest. She slips away into a dazed numbness, a dark place where the world is allowed to happen to her.

“Come inside.” It’s John, back again. It’s dark now. When did it get so late? She hasn’t seen a car in hours. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

She’s about to say something when a car pulls in, tires crunching in the gravel driveway. She turns, squints into the headlights. Beside her, John freezes. He looks like a cornered animal, like a hunted man.

“John.” The windows roll down, but the headlights stay on. The engine turns off. A girl stands half in, half out of the driver’s side. Black hair, tight jacket, plump cheeks, mean eyes. Emori wants to sneer at her just on principle. “You’re ignoring my calls.”

John’s face is the picture of terror. Above their heads, Octavia’s light flickers on. Emori hears a window slam shut, Jasper and Monty’s shouting, Raven’s swearing.

“Get the hell off my property, Ontari,” Raven snarls, banging the screen door open. John flinches. He’s white-knuckling the porch railing.

John starts to move, striding off the porch in swift steps, pushing past Raven and shoving the girl against her car, his hand around her neck.

“Murphy!” Bellamy shouts. Emori scrambles to her feet.

“Not so fun when it’s you, huh?” John growls in Ontari’s ear. “Leave me the fuck alone. I’m done with you, I’m done with your bullshit, I’m done .” He shoves her again. Her head thumps against the car. “Get out and never come back.”

Emori finally moves. “Let go of her, John,” she says, tugging at his arm. “Let go, it’s not worth it. Let go.”

He does. He reaches for her, hands grasping, shaking, fisting in her shirt, closing around her wrapped hand. Ontari glares at Emori, and she feels her blood boil.

How dare you look at me? she wants to ask. How dare you hurt him?

“Is he your bitch now?” Ontari’s addressing her. Emori sees red.

“Fuck off,” Emori spits, turning away, and then Ontari’s hand is on her arm, twisting Emori back around and spitting in her face.

Emori stands there, saliva running down her cheek, hand clenched into a fist, breath coming sharp.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” John shouts, lunging for Ontari, prying her hand from Emori’s arm. “Get the fuck away from her, you sick-”

“Murphy!” It’s Bellamy, all deep voice and righteous anger. “Enough!” He jogs down the stairs and separates the two of them, all but shoving Ontari back into her car. “Don’t come here again,” he tells her, bodily hauling John up the porch steps.

Emori watches Ontari’s tires spin, scattering gravel and grass. Her spit is warm on her cheek. She wipes it away with the wrap on her hand.

“Are you calm?” Bellamy is asking John when she approaches the steps. John looks up at her, eyes unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” he says. His voice sounds broken.

You poor sad thing.

“What happened between you two?” she asks. Bellamy tenses. Raven moves aside so Emori can sit beside John. Octavia, Jasper and Monty are at the front window, peeking from around the curtains, eyes wide.

“You don’t have to say anything, Murphy,” Raven says. It’s a lawyer’s warning. You don’t have to incriminate yourself. You don’t have to lie. You don’t have to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but.

John shakes his head. “We dated until the middle of last year.” Bellamy bows his head, as if he’s resigned to the story. “It...it wasn’t good. Healthy. Whatever.”

He looks up, turns to Raven, then Bellamy. “You know the story already.”

It’s a hint to leave. They take it, walking backwards into the house, closing the door softly.

When they’re alone again, John sighs. “She cut me off from them. I thought she was just jealous. I didn’t mind. But then it got worse; she started-” he clears his throat. “I said no. But that didn’t matter.”

Emori knows what he’s alluding to. Her heart hurts.

“I figured, what’s the problem? My mom was shit, so this was fine. Nothing new. And at least I had someone.”

“Someone loving you their way is better than being alone,” she murmurs. She understands.

He looks at her. The tears in his eyes scare her. “Raven and Bellamy helped me get out. I started living here and it was okay. I’m still...I’m still dealing with it though.” He laughs. It’s ugly. “Which is to say, I’m not really dealing with it.”

He pulls down the collar of his shirt, shows her the ugly scars around his neck. She touches them softly, with cold fingers. He shivers.

Bruised and ruined. She feels sick. Bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.

“I’m sorry for what she did to you,” she whispers.

He sniffs. “It’s over now.”

“Is it?”

He laughs. “Shit. I forgot.” She doesn’t know what he means. His glassy eyes say that he doesn’t either. “No, it’s not, I guess.”

They sit there in silence. It might be her imagination, but the tension is bleeding from his shoulders. He leaves his shirt askew. Every time she sees the scars, she is angry.

“I hope it stops hurting,” she whispers.

“It does. Sometimes.” He reaches for her. She stays deathly still while he reaches out, touches her hair, her cheek that’s still sticky with spit. “I wish…” he shakes his head. “I felt guilty talking to you. As if she would be angry. As if she still matters.”

“Why me?” she asks. “You talk to Raven and Octavia all the time.”

“They-” he sighs, frustrated, out of words. “They’re not like you. They’re not… They don’t understand. You do.” He huffs out a laugh. “I don’t know how, but you do.”

It’s enough. More than enough, actually. She can feel herself smiling, glowing like the fireflies flashing in the tree branches above them.

“I’d like to take you out,” he says softly. She blinks in surprise, shifts when he turns, reaches for her hand. “I can’t promise I won’t be a shitty boyfriend. Hell, I’m not asking to be your boyfriend. I’m just asking for a date.”

It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “Okay.” She nods, smiles when he smiles.

“Okay?” He sounds shocked. She doesn’t blame him; she is too. She barely knows the guy. But she knows enough. She knows about his nightmares. She knows his laugh, his little smiles, his love of chocolate, his hatred of his own reflection.

She’s seen enough. Enough to say yes. Enough to pretend she has a conscience.

She takes his hand, leads him back to the house. “Okay.”

#litany fic #bombshellsandbluebells #dailymemori #memorifics #maskingtapepoetree #murphystartedthefire #lindseysfandoms #lord help me im back on my BS

[maychorian]

Weekly Voltron Fic Recs #48

Rules: You can find past weekly rec lists here, and non-list recs in my general fic rec tag. Also follow @maychorianrecs for individually tagged posts, the easier to search and reblog. This is stuff I like, and I have a huge bias toward Lance, hurt/comfort, and general fluff, in that order. Gen unless otherwise noted. Please comment on the fics if you read and enjoy them!

Why it sucks to be a snake in space by EboniObsydian for polarspaz Words: 31,825 (8/?) Author’s Summary: It had been a month since the transformations, since the ill trip through an electrical storm transformed the humans into creatures of myth - Shiro became a dragon, Hunk became a troll, Lance became a centaur, Keith became a naga, and Pidge became a gorgon - and there were still things and quirks to get used to. Even so, the castle floors were still cold and slick and Lance still slipped on them when he was unawares. Shiro still scared the heebeegeebeez out of everyone with smoke occasionally emitting from his nose and mouth and his icy touch, Pidge still didn’t dare remove her blindfold around anyone and Hunk still lurked indoors during light hours when planetside. Between him and Shiro though, no one knew whose hoard was bigger. Alternatively titled “Myths in a Space Castle" — Inspired by @polarspaz’s Snakes & Horses AU where Keith is a Naga and Lance is a Centaur. Not strictly adhereing to the AU since Shiro is a chuvash dragon instead of a vampire and Pidge uses female pronouns. Updates sporadically.now you can find me on tumblr! @bucketoffudgeinamuffin My Comments: This is such a FUN fic. It reminds me of a survival fic where characters have to deal with a new and crazy situation and learn how to survive and find food and build a fire and all that. The mythical creatures the paladins turn into are all very fun and interesting and fitting, and the way they have to adapt is so well thought-out and fascinating to read. I’m really enjoying this, and I’m really looking forward to more. This one sucked me in, for sure. The Keith and Lance friendship is especially good, but no one is neglected.

When You Are Alone by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 26,355 Author’s Summary: 5 times Shiro and Ryou disagreed. Updates every other day. My Comments: Part of an excellent, wonderful series in which “Kuron” is redeemed by Team Voltron and stays on as Shiro’s twin, Ryou. This entry is a great exploration of both characters learning to adapt to the changes and exploring their own personalities. Humor, angst, comfort, deep conversations, everything I like in fanfic is there. It’s so good.

humility by bobtheacorn Words: 1,446 Author’s Summary: “Before I turn this on,” Pidge begins, “I’d like to just go on the record and say that Hunk is hands down the best member of this team.” “Seconded,” Lance says without hesitation.Pidge continues, “And his tireless contributions to the emotional well being of his fellow paladins is commendable and beyond reproach. If I had a medal, I would give it to you, Hunk. As a matter of fact, I’m making you one first thing tomorrow.” “Stop, you guys,” Hunk says, and whether he’s feigning being emotional or it’s genuine is hard to say. He’s fanning a hand in front of his face, blinking at the ceiling. His voice is a little choked, “Man, I said I wouldn’t cry.” Keith is sitting beside him on the couch with his arms crossed, bewildered by the formalities. //Keith doesn’t know anything about video games. Outrage ensues. My Comments: This is so cute and funny and adorable. Love these kids hanging out and having fun.

CUPS by SerenePhenix Words: 4,385 Author’s Summary: Coran was willing to sacrifice far more than just his wellbeing for the sake of these young people in his care. Anything to ensure that they could win this war. Anything to ensure they did not have to worry about something like making an alliance. My Comments: When you find a good hurt!Coran fic, you gotta hold on to it, because it’s rare and precious like a jewel. This is great, though of course Coran is kind of an idiot for not just telling someone. But of course he has to be strong. For all the kids. Sigh.

Exploration by luoup (ravenic) Words: 1,573 Author’s Summary: Day 4 Prompt 2: Exploration Shiro & Lance&Hunk: going somewhere new and interesting and fun My Comments: What a great trio! It’s so nice to see them hanging out and chilling and enjoying a cool area. Fun, relaxing read.

in the places where it is soft and quiet by kingwise Words: 2,807 Author’s Summary: Pidge found this rose quartz room one day while exploring what would be her new home. She didn’t quite want to call it that though. Home was rumbling laughter, round glasses, and the smell of frozen peas heating in the microwave. And now, the only thing she had left were the glasses. (When she wore them, it felt like back when she played dress up with Matt. They were a burning memory she clung stubbornly to.) or, where pidge feels terribly sad and misses her family, and lance tries to help in the end (takes place pre-s4) My Comments: Love Lance being such a sweetheart with sad Pidge. Always good to have more of those two.

Sugar Cookies by Gootbuttheichou Words: 2,538 Author’s Summary: Lance is more than thrilled to be attending the Galaxy Garrison in order to become the world’s best pilot; however, he didn’t expect there would be so much studying to do. Luckily, his roommate Hunk is happy to study with him, and happy to bake treats when his friend is gloomy from studying. My Comments: Aw, sweet boys. Hunk is such a good friend. I want them to be roommates in canon so bad, but for now at least I have fics.

Fever Can Wait by oldmythologies Words: 2,138 Author’s Summary: Prompt fill: “Hey there! Can I request a sickfic where Shiro gets a fever so high he starts babbling and gets disoriented. Maybe he gets a cold bath before it gets worse? :O” from crazy-indigo-child on tumblr. My Comments: Really sweet sickfic with delirious Shiro and gentle Keith. Hits the spot.

Fireworks by AmnesiaticRoses Words: 7,397 Author’s Summary: Voltron is treated to a victory party – a planet-wide one. But not all of the locals are celebrating, and are instead looking to exploit the party as the paladins let their guards down. Written from prompts provided from Grimkohai, technically using the one for the third week of October – “Festival” – but if I don’t get this out of my hands I’m going to tweak it into a mess. My Comments: This is an EXCELLENT fic, and the fact that my comment is the only one is an absolute travesty. The action, characterization, and worldbuilding are all fantastic. It feels like an adventure in a place you’ve never been but would like to visit someday. The paladins are all smart and competent, but special spotlight on Lance for being smart and brave while concussed and captured. It’s so good, you guys. Read this fic. Comment. It deserves more love.

as the lion loves the lamb by Demenior Words: 3,986 Author’s Summary: The Lions are powerful, ancient machines that have existed for eons. To be chosen by them is an honor only few have, for they pick only the greatest of heroes to serve them. But to serve a Lion is a life sentence. And a Paladins life is always a short one. The Lions are hungry. My Comments: Seriously horrifying take on what the lions are and what they want. This creeped me out, and it’s pretty rare for words on a page to do that. Excellent stuff.

Cold As Ice (With No Sign Of Life) by PastelClark Words: 1,826 Author’s Summary: It is a dark, terrible thing that only crawls to the surface, like frost over metal, when she is alone. When she feels her paladin go with one of her siblings somewhere far away enough that her hold over the bond fuzzes and fades out, flat-lining into the barest of sensations, and she is left with only herself. And she must be broken, she decides, to feel this way—because she is a leg, meant to be stable and secure and strong, as she has known from the beginning of her creation. Legs do not get paranoid, or frightened, or…or lonely. But she does. When her paladin leaves, the cold sets in. And the cold, it is nothing but lonely. My Comments: Angsty little Blue POV on losing Lance. It hurts.

Chamomile Tea by SerenePhenix Words: 3,937 Author’s Summary: Deciding what’s best for oneself is never easy and just a long process of trial and error. OR: Pidge fucked up and Shiro’s there to help. My Comments: Part of a series, a modern AU where the paladins are roommates and take care of each other. So here’s Shiro taking care of Pidge. Lovely.

Light of the Galaxy by thekingoftrash Words: 5,308 Author’s Summary: Sometimes, it’s the aftermath of freeing a planet that gets you. OR Shiro’s hurt, Hunk’s helpful, and Lance and Keith argue over the proper grammar usage of quiznak. My Comments: Hurt Shiro, supportive team, what else can you ask for?

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This by tymedfire for mssstilinski Words: 3,172 Author’s Summary: Lance gets Earth music again. My Comments: Cute fic with the team appreciating dancer!Lance.

Nose Knows by sedna_mode Words: 1,861 Author’s Summary: Following a one-off comment from Hunk about how good his sense of smell is, the team devise a challenge to test him. The only thing is they… forgot to involve Hunk himself. Good thing he’s always up for a challenge, and Hunk is good.And he knows it. My Comments: Absolutely perfect fic based on a preview from one of the comics. I love this view of Hunk and the team.

Made of Stardust by itsthevoid Words: 3,819 Author’s Summary: Altea was destroyed long ago, and since then, Allura hasn’t had a planet to call her home, not even Earth. This doesn’t mean that she’s homeless. My Comments: Really lovely futurefic in which all of Team Voltron gets to go home, even if it isn’t what they expected. I loved the conclusion.

Spring Gifts by wingedflower Words: 3,535 Author’s Summary: Lance is always homesick, but some days are harder than others. Especially this day, when he would give anything in the universe to be back on Earth with his family. For the time being, his space family will have to do. But maybe it’s not so bad after all. My Comments: I adore the way everyone was so supportive of Lance once they realized he was having a rough time, emotionally. They treated his sadness like a wound, something that deserved to be acknowledged and cared for, and they were all willing to drop everything to do it. Just lovely.

Siren’s Curse by Internal_Screaming Words: 2,051 (½) Author’s Summary: Galra are slowly taking over the kingdom, only a few villages stand against the empire, and even those are disappearing quickly.Pidge remembers the day they took her family, and every day since, she had tried to find a way to get to them. Then her answer comes, as she finds Shiro during a storm. She believes this may be her chance to get on land and find her lost family.Galra are a specific race on earth, mermaids and sirens are different species and believed to be myths. Pirates roam the seas and are known to either give no shits about the war against the Galra or have chosen a side. Usually the side being that of the Galra. My Comments: Really cute fantasy AU with mermaids, sirens, humans, and pirates. Fun read, and I’m looking forward to more.

Survivor’s Guilt by Agapostemon Words: 8,281 Author’s Summary: “What were you doing at my house in pajamas this morning?” Shiro groans.“Oh, uh…” Matt stammers, “Y-your boss called me? You didn’t show up to work, and she was worried. And then I got worried, because… your texts last night were a little scary to begin with, but then you didn’t show up to work? Anyways, I drove over to check on you, and your door was unlocked, so…” he gestures vaguely. My Comments: Modern AU in which Matt supports Shiro through PTSD, depression, and a suicide attempt. It’s pretty dark, but with a hopeful ending. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

stillness by bobtheacorn Words: 3,088 Author’s Summary: “You’re all too young to really understand the nuances of Pac man,” Shiro says, trying to get a rise out of them, though it backfires.“Vintage is cool, Shiro.” “Yeah, old things are in! Why do you think we have so much respect for you?” “Oohoho! Pidge!!” //Coran finds something interesting on the scanners and takes everyone on a detour for some well-deserved rest and reflection. My Comments: It’s so nice to see the Voltron crew just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Fun, relaxing read.

Lost in Translation by EdgarAllenPoet Words: 22,178 Author’s Summary: “Keith shook his head, not knowing how to communicate that he didn’t understand him. Kolivan’s face turned to stone.” My Comments: Keith accidentally goes to an alternate universe and runs into a BoM where no one understands him, and when they do, they don’t believe him. It’s brutal, especially if you’ve read the other fics in this story where Kolivan and Antok are father figures to Keith. Very intense read, I couldn’t stop once I started.

Kiss From a Rose by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions) Words: 14,176 Author’s Summary: 5 times Shiro got kisses from the team, and one time he returned them My Comments: Absolutely adorable fic, notwithstanding some pain and suffering along the way. All of the platonic kisses were incredibly sweet and cute, and the ending was ridiculously satisfying.

Casting Shadows by BlackFriar Words: 74,777 Author’s Summary: An encounter with an ancient creature leaves Keith a child and Shiro reliving the past. While searching for a way to get their red paladin back, the team uncover a connection between a savage race of aliens and one of the universe’s oldest mysteries…and learn the past is never truly behind anyone. My Comments: This is an absolutely home run of a fic. Intense and horrific at times, but a thrill ride. It weaves together past and present in a great way. This is not a cute, fluffy deaged fic, though. Young Keith is terrified, for good reason, and that never really goes away, though the ending is perfectly satisfying. There’s also a lot about past child abuse that gets really awful at times, and the enemies in this fic are particularly disgusting (think the Reavers from Firefly/Serenity). Warnings aside, though, this is a fantastic fic. Plot, characterization, and worldbuilding are all spot-on. I really enjoyed it.

Muzzled by Emls479 Words: 5,181 Author’s Summary: The blade of Marmora aren’t the only ones with time altering technology. Days on the outside can be months within. Keith finds this out a little too late. My Comments: Holy crap, poor Keith. This was brutal, most especially because from his perspective, he was abandoned by his team, even while they were doing everything they could to rescue him. The comfort at the end was very good, but oh man, Keith goes through some awful stuff in this one.

If It Helps You Breathe by LynnLarsh Words: 5,632 Author’s Summary: A bad night with alien liquor puts Lance in a headspace he’s spent years trying to get out of. It’s a downward spiral that he eventually realizes he needs help dealing with.Trigger warning for self harm. The tags are important on this one. Please tread carefully. My Comments: Warning for self harm, so mind the tags. I really appreciate that Lance sought help on his own, eventually, because I know how hard that is. The hurt/comfort is good, and it’s realistic about how hard it is to deal with issues like this.

Grey by Skiewrites Words: 4,281 Author’s Summary: Grey is a secondary quintessence, made of Black and White quintessences. It represents the movement and manipulation of quintessence from one host to either another host or outside the host in an unnatural form. The most common use for Grey quintessence is during attacks in the form of lightning bolts. The physical representation of Grey quintessence is storm. Lance learns a lot from his family during his childhood, ranging from him being an alien and about the species that destroyed his home planet 10,000 years ago, to the legends of Voltron and the quintessence they use to protect the lion they’re currently hiding with.It’s a shame he never really said goodbye. My Comments: Really interesting twist on the concept of Altean Lance, with great worldbuilding and family interactions. I’d be interested to read more in this ‘verse.

Honest Work by juniperallura Words: 1,365 Author’s Summary: Based on my random HC that Shiro likes to garden because it’s peaceful and dear god someone give that man some rest My Comments: A relaxing little fic with Shiro getting some satisfaction from working with his hands.

cutthroat by buttered_onions Words: 1,363 Author’s Summary: Lance volunteers.(A Voltron/Hunger Games AU.) My Comments: Another amazing AU from buttered_onions, though Hunger Games scenarios always make me sick. There’s going to be more, but this is already brilliant.

Previously Recced Fics That Updated:

Shadows of Stars (33466 words) Coran's Guide to the Care and Keeping of Earthling Humans (37525 words)

#voltron legendary defender #fic rec #weekly voltron fic recs #vldgen

[guacameowle]

Jihyun Route: Another Story - Notes

Below the cut are the notes of opinions & thoughts I wrote down as I was playing Another Story. It’s below a cut because it’s very lengthy; I think it came out to over 8400 words. I certainly don’t expect anyone to read all of it, but I had a few people ask for me to do this, so here it is. Some of it is more in-depth analysis, most of it is probably nonsense, a lot of it is me thirsting. 

Everything written is what I was thinking at the time something happened in the moment of playing the game so you can see how my theories/emotions of the game progress day by day. I did not go back & change anything I wrote after finishing the route. I haven’t even gone back to proofread it yet, so my apologies for ridiculous errors or confusion. 

The notes are broken up by days & then by endings (I’ve only completed good & normal endings so far). Obviously, this text will be loaded with spoilers. I apologize if you’re on mobile & the cut doesn’t work & you have to scroll past this horrendously long post.

I’m sure some of what I’ve said here will be controversial, but I’m not here to argue with anyone or create discourse; this is just a means to express my opinions & lingering curiosities about some aspects of the route.

I by no means disliked this route. I very much enjoyed it for all it’s drama, twists, emotional upheaval, discoveries, & Jihyun’s sexy sexy voice. 

Prologue

Like hell am I answering any of these calls.

Whyyy are you so obsessed with me?!

Omg they give you a 'call the police option'?! Iconic. I’m doing it.

I AM CRYING LAUGHING. I BAD ENDED & MC GAVE NO FUCKS. Just went home to order some chicken wings. A legend. SHE COULD NOT BE BOTHERED TO GIVE A FUCK. Honestly, that is my true ending. Ultimate true end. This is how my story would have ended if this happened to me in real life. Except I would have gone home to a tub of ice cream. 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 Excellent start to this update. She honestly just disbanded a cult & got dinner afterwards like it was no big thing. Boss MC.

Ok I'll do the prologue & play naive now.

Oh. A blindfold. KINKY~.

MC better be prepared to die because she just willingly let herself be kidnapped. 🙄

DAY ONE

The new music is so so nice. That violin concerto - so beautiful. I need sheet music.

That bedroom at Mint Eye is essentially my DREAM room. Wowza. So much pink! Yeah yeah, Ray, I’ll play your game as long as I don’t have to leave that bed. Ever.

Fuck. Ray is wearing gloves. FUUUUUCK me right up. GLOVES!!!

CATCH MY ASS FLIRTING WITH JUMIN ALL DAY ER’DAY. I told Juju I wanted to hear his voice. I’m so thirsty.

Jumin released a quote book. It probably has great lines like, “Yaaaaaa” or “What is fried chicken?” … I’d buy it. Will probably turn out to be the best trilogy I ever spent money on.

“Mankind is born lonely.” (Call Ray after 00:00 chat). This game just got deep as fuck. I’m not ready for that kind of existential commentary at midnight on day one, ok? Let’s chill. I came here to talk to cute boys/girl, not mull over how mankind was doomed from the start.

Zen is already basically horny & ready to rumble if you tell him you called him in the middle of the night because you were thinking about him & honestly that already makes this a fantastic update.

I’m glad we got a little more context on how Yoosung had a random friend who joined a cult & tried to recruit him. Solid tie-in, Chertiz. Bravo.

JUMIN PREFERS FULL-BODIED WINE. FUCK ME RIGHT UP. THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY.

Yoosung, you’re breaking my heart. I want to comfort him so bad. Everything is still so fresh & he’s so frustrated. He’s going to be an emotional rollercoaster this entire route. I can feel it. Deep in my bones.

“You should be asleep." BINCH. Then why did you call me?!

Ok, day one is almost fucking over, where in the mint wig hell is V?! This is supposed to be his route, right? I’m fixing to start answering for Ray in a hot minute if Pastel Princey doesn’t show up pronto.

ZEN IS SUCH A NARCISSIST & I LOVE HIM FOR IT. “I wonder what I’d look like wet.” Me too, send a selfie quick. Please. I’ll beg.

I can’t stop flirting with everyone holy crap I’m probably going to bad end. I don’t even know who I have the most hearts for currently…

DAY TWO

Why are the longest chats in this game at 2 in the damn morning?! Cheritz, please…

Have I mentioned I really like V’s new sprite outfit? CAUSE I DO. It’s an excellent style. That coat with the pin on the lapel is perfect! Mmmhmm.

Also, V’s sprite’s body language seems pretty important to me. That arm wrapped over himself & holding his other arm feels very closed off. He’s the leader but he’s curling in on himself. Yes, by now we know he has secrets, but this almost feels like he’s unsure of himself for other reasons. Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

In a call V says the dark sky was taking over the moon but then in the next chat he says he couldn’t sleep because the moon was too bright. WELL, WHICH IS IT? I am betting that "bright moon" was probably just a lamp. Flip the switch, V. Turn it off & go to bed.

Aye, Jumin went to a foreign university. I want to know where. Have it ever been said how many other languages Jumin knows? I know he goes to New York & China for business a lot, so do we assume he takes translators with him or that he knows enough of the languages to get by? I’m so curious.

HOW V & JUMIN MET IS THE CUTEST SHIT I HAVE EVER READ IN MY LIFE OMGGGG. Jumin calling the insurance company about a toy car. Stop I can’t. I love him so much.

LITTLE JUMIN IN SUSPENDERS OMG I AM SCREAMING. That mini suit is probably bespoke Armani. Damnit.

V & Drunk!Jumin talking about their friendship is going to make me cry.

Jumin talks about almost being kidnapped on multiple occasions as if it were just a minor inconvenience of his day. “Ran out of pancakes, almost got kidnapped, crashed my toy car…”

Yeah yeah Ray. They're AIs. Sure. Uh huh. Totally believe you.

HOLY SHIT. Seven got a major equipment & set up upgrade. Someone tell me he posted to r/battlestations ?!?!?

Ray said he's going to try to tame me with food & honestly I am not opposed to this. He found my weakness so quickly. BRING ME ICE CREAM! STRAWBERRIES! CHAMPAGNE! Ask Jumin to make me some pancakes, I liked those.

Whoa dang. Zen's "sleepy but maybe gonna lose my voice" voice is 💦💦💦💦

V in that robe. 👀👀👀 ((Lynn, why are you like this?))

The first recommended party guest is a vampire (who could pass for Eros Katsuki Yuuri in a cape). I love this silly game. You think if I told Jumin that the 'Twilight' series was really a documentary he would believe me?

So Jumin confirmed he doesn't have siblings. That's actually one of the lingering questions I had about him. I’m glad he & V found one another at such young ages then. One could argue that they’re like brothers.

I am going to say it - I think Yoosung needs to meet with a licensed professional on a set schedule. He has no outlet for these emotions he's feeling & fears being badgered by RFA members when he does express himself. I feel so bad for him, especially knowing, as the player, that he was right all along to question V & the lack of evidence on Rika's supposed suicide. The RFA chatroom is not a safe space for him. Yet on the other hand, he’s being very selfish in wanting the others to grieve the same way he is. This is a very complex character bit about him.

Jaehee continues to be wary of me nonstop… but is 100% convinced that Seven is inviting the actual planet of Pluto to this party. ::looks directly into the camera::

Now Jumin wants to invite an actual bowl of udon. ::looks harder into the camera:: (If these were the guest recommendations Rika got, no wonder she left.)

JAEHEE CG. CRITICAL HIT. WOMAN DOWN. “You look tired.” JuMIN! No! “You look tired…” LyNN! NO!

I think I’m going to bad end if I don’t stop getting Jumin’s hearts… but I can’t help myself. I am a weak weak woman.

Why in the hell is this chat called “Party at Saturn” but then in the chat we talk about Jupiter instead. False advertising!

I could listen to V’s voice all day. That is S I L K Y ~

Ray is reaching obsessive level status. This boy just attaches to anyone that’s remotely nice to him, doesn’t he? I’ll admit, I went into this route but really liking Unknown. He irritated me. I knew he was tormented & abused, but he was not a good man. Ray though, seems really sweet. So are we to believe sometime between now & the two years into the future something happens to him that just causes him to snap & no longer want to be nice?

DAY THREE

Zen is saying “lmao” a lot.

“There’s a perfect medication for that. It’s called… BEER. LMAOOOO.” Zen is just me in college. Confirmed.

Ok so this route has some of the prettiest CGs I have seen in this game. I am loving them.

IT IS 4AM CHERITZ. I DON’T NEED THESE EMOTIONS FROM SAERAN TALKING ABOUT A POTTED PLANT WITH TWO STALKS & ONE OF THEM GROWING WEAKER. GODDAMNIT. I’M GOING TO CRY. OH SHIT HE BUSTED OUT THE CRYING EMOJI. BE STRONG, LYNN.

If this boy doesn’t get some sort of emotional help & redemption in this story I am going to be so so upset.

(Call 707 after “Paradox of the Survival of the ____ Chat) Did Seven just pull a “BITCH WHERE?” joke on me when I called him sexy?!

V's dad is a vampire. Look at that guy. Jumin, don’t look him in the eyes.

TEENAGE ANDROID ZEN!

Jaehee’s "jet pilot" convo had me dying. What kinda Space balls + Monty Python convo was that?!?!

This slow mellow piano melody (I guess V's theme) is very lovely. It makes me sleepy in a good way. That gentle crescendo in the middle with the chimes gives me chills.

CHOIR BOYS JUMIN & V!!!! HOW PRECIOUS!!!

I actually like that we get to see more of V's hesitation & examples of him still struggling with the grieving process.

Yoosung is really lashing out here. I understand his frustrations but he is very blind to his own selfishness.  

OMG THE START OF YOOSUNG'S LOLOL ADDICTION! 😨

New order of favorite voices: V, Jumin, Yoosung, Ray, Zen, Jaehee, Luciel. ((This is shocking to me because I tend to prefer high-pitched male voices. Why? I don’t even know. The first time I heard Yoosung’s voice I was like “THIS IS THE ONE. THIS IS IT! QUALITY! GOOD SHIT!” Then I heard Jumin talk & my panties were WRECKED. I couldn’t fight it. I didn’t want to fight it.))

Aye, not to RUSH anything but uhh… when do I get to start giving answers like “V come save me” cause homeboy is at Mint Eye. I’m at Mint Eye. We can fucking leave Mint Eye together. Just saying.

Me In-Game: “Yoosung, I think you need to seek professional help.” Yoosung: “I don’t think I need counseling. I’ll just vent my feelings into my new game!” Me Out-Of-Game: “BOY I HAVE SEEN YOUR FUTURE & WE NEED TO HAVE A TALK!”

DAY FOUR

“Say Yoosung for example … [he’s] set to mourn the death of his precious but is he really sad because of somebody’s death or is he sad because death still remains a mystery to him?” I swear I just looked off into the distance & said, “Holy fuck…” Ray is getting DEEP. He just made a damn good point honestly. My mind is blown. I need a minute. This explains so much about Yoosung, honestly.

Ray just broke all the characters down in like 5 words or less. I am seriously impressed. Chertiz. CHERTIZ, MY DUDES. Your game is fantastic. Your characters are so in depth. None of them are perfect & I love it.

“… plant a seed of happiness inside you.” You’re not planting any seeds inside of me. Nope. Thanks for playing. I don’t want your seed. I can buy seeds at Home Depot if I need them. Thanks.

I’m guessing day 4 bad ending is you basically just joining Mint Eye with Ray at this point… & getting all of his seed.

JUMIN CALLED ME WHILE HE’S LYING IN BED. I AM BLESSED & I AM ALSO LYING IN MY BED.

Ok… I was hoping this call would get sexy but now he’s just talking about mattresses. Look Juju, you’re welcome to come & help me test the firmness of my mattress & I’ll test the firmness of your-

Real talk, Jumin’s exaggerated sigh directly into my ear via headphones gave me chills. Bye. I’m ascending to another plane of existence.

…. I’m waiting for that moment V changes his profile picture. WHEN. WILL. IT. HAPPEN?

The Game of Kings CG. I’m fucking crying.

VANDERWOOOOD.

Zen looking like he did an autumn “back to school” photoshoot for Sears & I am LOVING IT. He’s so cute. Looks like a Sketchers advert.

Yoosung is too innocent for his own good. Just met someone one day prior & already accepting packages from them. STRANGER DANGER, MY DUDE.

WET ZEN SELFIE! MY PRAYERS WERE ANSWERED! BLESSED.

Yoosung, I want to be your ‘master’. Please & thank you.

Elixir of salvation. Ah, that wonderful combination of harsh chemicals & neurotoxins/hallucinogens. I wouldn’t put it past them to have added piss. Ray says he’s going to make it special for me though by adding flavor to it. This boy is probably going to add a dollop of ice cream in it & say “IT’S AN ELIXIR OF SALVATION FLOAT!” Hard pass.

V COME & SAVE ME ALREADY! But let’s keep the robe…. for reasons… (Hello, you have all been introduced to Meowle’s extensive clothing kink.)

“The secret has got out of my hands…” ::looks directly into the camera with both eyes unblinking:: Boy, I’ve been saying this since uh… 2 years… into your future….

If I’m forced to drink this shit despite choosing the answers of resisting I’m going scream. I DO NOT CONSENT.

SAVE YOURSELF V! RUN!

Ok really, I just want to pick Ray up, toss him over my shoulder, tell him to hush & trust me, & walk out of there while karate kicking everyone in the face. Come at me. (Congratulations Cheritz, you made me like a character I didn’t originally like. You sneaky skillful writers.)

Holy shit, excellent EXCELLENT voice acting by Saeran’s VA. That was absolutely phenomenal. Sujin Kang. Bravo!

DAY FIVE

THIS ROUTE HAS GOT ME EMOTIONALLY FUCKED UP & I AM ONLY ON THE START OF DAY 5?! How am I supposed to do this for 6 more days?

V panting in a phone call = my mind directly into the gutter. Whew.

Yes, because keeping MORE secrets has helped us in the past 4 days. Does nobody learn from their mistakes in this game?

((Explained the current plot of this route to my sister)) Sister: “Ok, if this took place here in Texas, you’d just bust in there with guns blazing to save those pink & mint boys.” Me: “I wouldn’t kill anyone!” Sister: “You could just like… aim for their legs so they can’t chase you out of there.”

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me” This almost feels like V’s emotions go beyond just self-sacrifice for those he cares about. This blatant disregard for his own safety feels very self-damaging. I’m wondering if they’ll tap into this idea further in the story. Does he not feel worthy of existing? Of love?

Whoa… whose voice is THIS? Whomever this lady voice is, she’s got protractors in her eyeballs too, like Juju.

“I’ve lost my violin, something I’ve played for my whole life.” GIRL, I FEEL YOU. My heart is shattering for her & I don’t even know who she is.

Ohhhh it’s V’s mom isn’t it?! Calling it now.

I'm laughing so hard. "IT IS TIME TO ACTIVATE THE INTELLIGENCE UNIT!" & it's not even established yet! Jumin please. Omg.

How adorable!! Teenage Jumin & V!!

Wow, V's philosophy on life sure did a massive 180 in 10 years. Hmm, methinks his mom is going to come in to play for that.

I swear, if anyone else pops in & tries to “cleanse me” I’d start throwing fists. Touch me, I dare you.

V is resisting every romantic approach. I feel bad for trying to flirt with him. I guess I’ll just flirt with Jumin then.

Zen giving Yoosung some major tough love. He didn't have to step up to care for Yoosung, but he did. Zen is a good man.

Yoosung's crying phone call is ripping me apart. Also this voice acting is phenomenal. So so good but so painful.

This is disgusting. Rika has some serious psychosis & V decided to suffer in it as some way to "prove his love". That's not love. This is blatant abuse. I'm appalled. V was blinded by 'love', literally & figuratively.

In the end, V was abused. He had his love for Rika twisted/manipulated & used against him. He was physically hurt by his lover. This makes me angry not just because it happened but because he gave consent. I’m just… so fucking baffled. You do not encourage someone who is mentally unstable (or even stable) to inflict pain on yourself or others as a means for them to try to maintain a grasp on their sanity or ‘happiness’ or because they want proof you ‘love them.’ V encouraged this, he allowed it, he consented & it fucking spiraled out of control. He took on so much pain. He thought by doing this he was somehow helping Rika, but it didn’t! It just made everything worse & Rika went on to hurt more people after this. Yes, I see that V is trying to redeem himself somehow, trying to keep everyone else out of the situation so they don’t suffer like he did & so they don’t get hurt but I can’t ignore the fact that V made mistakes in their relationship as well. Rika’s growing mental instability should have been handled with a lot more care (therapy ((if one doesn’t work try another)), hospitalization, medication). He knew from the beginning she was like this, no? He enabled these tendencies she had & it wasn’t good for either of them. I want to know his end goal. Was he just being selfish? Did he think only he could be a cure for her? What was he getting out of this since it didn’t read as if he was really being loved back. Did he do any of this out of malicious intent? No, I don’t think so - it reads as if he was doing what he thought was right but V made mistakes & I feel sorry for them both. V is a very tragic character indeed. He thought his love was some sort of cure-all for his lover but it wasn’t. This is actually very sad. In a way, I guess he did stop her from hurting others (for a time) or hurting herself, but that still doesn’t make this right.

I was heavily suspicious of V in the original routes (even though his voice was so goddamn sexy), particularly in Yoosung & Seven’s routes. I still think V is not entirely free from blame. I don’t think he’s by any means evil or manipulative, just misguided in what he thought was love but really was just self-sacrifice & pretty damn obsessive if you ask me. It also rings heavily of codependency. You don’t give up every part of yourself so your partner can find ‘happiness’, that’s not a healthy love. Love yourself a little more than that, Jihyun, please.

I don't like Rika. Yes, she did good things while ‘alive’ & at one point she might have been healthy & mentally stable but it spiraled out of her & anyone else's control into a very very dark place where she became toxic, manipulative, & delusional. She's done horrible acts that I refuse to look past regardless of her previous ‘good deeds’. Bad people can do good things for all the wrong reasons. She needs medical help, I can see that, but that doesn't mean I have to like her. Her words & actions against V are very selfish as well, demanding he prove his love by letting her physically hurt him? She targeted his need to please & exploited the hell out of that - backed him into a corner & kept badgering him about him proving his love (even though he seemed all too willing to do just that). This is wrong in every way. Mental illness isn’t a ‘free pass.’

This conversation between MC, Yoosung, & Jaehee felt very productive! Yoosung seemed to actually listen & take in another POV.

DAY SIX

Ok, I officially feel like I have no fucking idea what the actual shit Rika or V are talking about in any of their damn video novel conversations. Too many damn metaphors & nonsense. Yes yes, sunshine, flowers & dark skies. Let’s move along. I’d rather hear Yoosung crying.

Update: V officially changed his profile background picture again but still not his avatar picture.

I hope Elizabeth 3rd isn’t suffering at all through this dramatic period. Is she ok? Is she eating well? How are her jumps coming along? Has she been grooming properly? When was her last bowel movement? I hope my precious baby angel is doing well.

V’s mom is kicking me right in the emotions. Every word she’s saying is just devastating. To lose everything & be outcast, having your child ripped away, not being able to find solace in something you’d taken comfort in for decades… I can’t even begin to imagine.

What a sad sad parallel. V’s mom lost her hearing & therefore her art of music. V is losing his sight & therefore his art of photography. Wow.

Secrets secrets are no fun… BECAUSE IT’S FUCKING RUINING EVERYONE’S LIVES.

I don't want Ray to be abandoned again!

You make one comment about recognizing a 90s computer & Seven suddenly calls you "ma'am." Boy, I oughta...

Jaehee says that V drives a British make car that is silver in appearance. I am hoping it's a silver Aston Martin Vanquish (aka Meowle's absolute dream car - only I want it in black in black on black).

I am laughing so hard at the idea of Jaehee just turning toward Seven & asking, "Do you work out?” ((Another Story - Brought to you by Seven’s Hot Hot Body. He Works Out!))

Yeah girl, I hate to break it to you, but that mask is doing nothing to conceal your identity so…

Hahaaaaa Seven imitating Jaehee in this phone call is pretty damn hilarious.

Someone please tell me there some options to throw a punch or two cause I fucking will. I need a Mortal Kombat option.

Jumin's analogy about V, Yoosung, & the apple tree was really really good! That pep talk was amazing. Jumin hit a home run with that motivation speech.

What kinda photos did Seven find? Naughty photos? Photos of Rika hurting V? Are we going to get to see these later?

Ok ok this might be a stretch but it's almost like V's mom's love & desperation for her child, that concern to only want to shield from pain & no longer finding purpose in anything else in life, is heavily paralleled in V's need to protect his "art" (Rika). Is this why he was so determined to try to be the outlet for her pain? He really thought this was his way of protecting her? A set of photos in his series was called Obsession, right? Was this all about an obsession with Rika? Makes sense to me at least. V is in deep, I'm questioning his mental stabilities as well in these flashbacks, honestly.

This CG with Rika & MC makes me uncomfortable. Hands off, please & thank you.

God bless Jumin keeping me updated on Elizabeth 3rd because right now she's the only bright spot in this horrifically emotional route.

"Once they get used to love... I show them fear again. Just enough to get them scared. And when I save them again, they become happy." What kinda toxic manipulative evil callus twisted deceitful bullshit. Girl, if I get my hands on you I’ll show you something to be afraid of.

Shit is going down & Ray is texting me about sunflowers. "If you leave then I'll be the sunflower. I'm going to stand watching the direction you've gone to." 😢😢😢 Please, don’t hurt him anymore.

I am at the end of day 6 & honestly I don't know if I am about to bad end. Did I fuck up somewhere? Oh geez...

JUMIIIIN stepping in & delegating like a champ. I love you.

Rika just sort of confirmed my little theory about V & ‘noble self sacrifice’, thinking he was some sort of cure-all for her demons but didn't see that he was doing more harm than good. I don't want to agree with her here but I almost kinda have to. I mean, she did ask him to basically keep giving her unconditional love, so she’s also a hypocrite in saying it was entirely V’s fault. He wasn’t the cause of her “devil” but I think he certainly had an inadvertent hand in helping it flourish.

Cheritz, please let me fight someone in this game. PLEASE! I want a full on Mortal Kombat side mode. I will go full on Liu Kang up in here, complete with all the noises he made in Sega Genesis - HUUWAH!

Hell. No. I will not do anything for you ((at least not until I loop back around to intentionally bad end)). You can fuck right the fuck off. I ain't telling the RFA shit for you.

DAY SEVEN

Oh ho ho, defensive & in-denial Yoosung is out to play.

“We’re teenagers. This is the period where we express rebellion.” Cue Jumin tilting his tie clip 30* upward so it’s not perfectly perpendicular to his tie. REBELLION! Drink tap water instead of chilled glass-bottle mineral water. REBELLION! Pay with cash instead of card. REBELLLLLIIIOOOONNNN!

Real talk - Jumin, that was some outstanding advice. He’s telling this to his friend & they’re just children at this stage? That is some serious insight. I will never get over how Jumin, who is so emotionally closed off, is such a damn good friend to V. His delivery was impeccable as well, it wasn’t condescending or judgmental; it was sincere. It was very matter of fact but did have a hint of genuine concern for his friend. Their friendship makes me very happy & I am glad they have one another. This isn’t just a “little” chat. This conversation goes on to very likely change V’s entire life… & Jumin had a massive hand in that. I’m so amazed, y’all.

Ohhhh, I offered Jumin a hug & got shot down. I’m hurt. I’ll never recover. I need to redo his route so I can feel his love again.

“Super-ego” Oooook…. BOTH of y’all need to reevaluate some shit.  

Rika had a bullied fucked up childhood & she needs some serious professional help. I feel like a broken record. She’s gone by the wayside, hell she’s lost the map entirely.

All these metaphors & analogies they keep using for their pain & torment, is exhausting. Hide it in prose all you want, what we have here is toxic.

This sort of solidifies my theory that Saeran has a split personality, this isn’t just anger. There’s just no way this is “the same” person. He’s been hurt by so many people. Now it’s sad to watch him hurt others. If they ever make a route of him, I will be very interested in seeing what the event was that causes him to finally shift personalities between Ray & Unknown (at least I’m assuming it’s Ray vs. Unknown & not Ray vs. Saeran).

“I will hack everything” Lmfaoooo. This made me snort laugh so hard my chest hurt. EVERYTHING! HIDE THE TOASTER. HIDE YOUR WATCH.

I can’t fault Yoosung so not believing what any of the RFA members tell him. He has no proof. He’s been lied to, just found out he’d been lied to, & now told to believe something else? Yeah, I wouldn’t believe anyone either. If you try to tell me that the person I loved & looked up to the most went evil, was hurting people, & started a cult I would tell you to fuck right off & laugh in your face. We also forget Yoosung is a scientist (though he’s not acting like one at the moment), he needs to see actual proof otherwise he’s not going to believe it. HOWEVER, he’s so loyal to Rika that if he were to show up at Mint Eye he’d very likely join them just to be with Rika again. I hope the RFA fights tooth & nail to keep him from going to Mint Eye.

Ok ok, in this VN, V expresses that he feels grateful to have been told by Jumin to not live his father’s life & to live for himself & make his own opinion about his mom. So… when is someone going to step in & tell V to not live his life for Rika, because ever since he claimed to be “her sun” that’s what he’s been doing… living for someone else again. V needs to live for himself, find what really makes him happy. A lot of this route so far hints that V is struggling with self-love & being ‘selfish’ enough to find what makes him genuinely happy. Also, Jihyun seems very sensitive to the opinion of others. That’s an interesting character trait - nothing wrong with it. I quite like that he’s played up as sensitive but tries to take on burdens himself to spare others - makes him a very tragic & compelling character.

ZEN MOANING IN A PHONE CALL LORD JESUS I NEED TO DRINK SOME HOLY WATER. THANK YOU, CHERITZ.

Is it just me or does anyone else think that Seven coming to Mint Eye on his own is actually a bad idea? You don’t mean to tell me this boy is not going be distracted by seeing his brother like this? Hmm saving brother vs. saving random new girl. … no contest.

“If you can’t relax yourself, I’ll make you relax.” Please please make me relax Zen. Please, omg.

THERE’S A “ZEN, MIND IF I REPLACE YOOSUNG?” OPTION. BLESS YOU CHERITZ YOU ARE TOO GOOD TO ME.

Angry mother-hen Zen is ridiculously amazing.

Oh please oh pleeeeease let there be a phone call to Yoosung where he’s moaning because of his massage.

WHAT IS WITH JIHYUN’S FAMILY "SACRIFICING THEIR EVERYTHING" STOP. NO. STOP THIS TRAIN OF MADNESS.

BLESS THE PHONE CALL WITH YOOSUNG GASPING & LAUGHING AS ZEN TICKLES HIM. Yoosung is ticklish along his sides. It's canon.

“I didn’t love Rika.” WHOMP THERE IT IS!

JIHYUN JUST ADMITTED HE WAS OBSESSED WITH RIKA. THAT IS A BIG STEP, PASTEL BOY! I actually put my phone down, yelled “I WAS RIGHT!” to absolutely nobody because I was alone, walked out of the room then marched right back in to keep playing the chat…

::shuffles notecards:: ::clears threat:: ::lips on the mic:: The sun is a burning ball of gas in space. It is not capable of emotions such as 'unconditional love'. It will instantly kill you on contact. Quit placing so many expectations on the sun in your fucking metaphors. Good day.

That Rika screaming CG makes me uncomfortable. I would now like to be excluded from this narrative.

I just laughed so fucking hard. Rika is having a fucking breakdown & Seven's voice just pops in ‘PSSST, ARE YOU LYNN?!’ I can't.

DAY EIGHT

Ohhh. Ohhhhhhhh. These answer choices are getting trickier. Just completely bash Rika or kinda calmly defend V? Hmm, decisions decisions.

So Seven didn’t see Saeran at all… & still somehow doesn’t know it’s actually Saeran that’s the hacker. Interestiiiiing.

Called Zen after 00:44 chat Day 8. Told him he was doing a good job by watching Yoosung because it was a hard task. “Did you just… diss Yoosung… in a subtle way?” I died when he laughed!

These answer choices all feel too similar to one another. I’m gonna fuck this up. I’m going to bad end on day 10… just watch. ((I have like 5 save files going though so…))

Yep, I expected this from Yoosung. He’s honestly not as bad as I thought he’d be. He even voices that he understands he’s being unreasonable & whiney - he just can’t help the way he’s feeling. This is a very visceral & real reaction. I think I don’t find it annoying because I was fully expecting this. I braced myself for it & I am enjoying seeing it play out. He was the most loyal to Zika, he’s going to take a lot to make him believe. Oh, what if there’s a bad end where he & MC both end up as part of Mint Eye?!

::battered & bruised:: ::speaks into walkie-talkie:: Day 8 on mission of V route. So far no casualties. On the path to Good End still. But V still hasn’t changed his fucking profile picture. Over.

[[Here is where I caved & actually started to spend the thousands of hourglasses I have on buying days in bulk instead of just calls for V & Ray.]]

180 HG for a days worth of chats?! Gooooood Lord. ::clicks accept::

Ray’s clapping happy emoji is the cutest shit I’ve ever seen.

I CAN’T LIE TO HIM & SAY I DON’T LIKE ICE CREAM. I FUCKING LOVE ICE CREAM. I HAVE MORE ICE CREAM IN MY FREEZER THAN ANY OTHER FOODS…

Whoa cool! Ray & Rika (my phone keeps correcting her name to be ‘Zika virus’) have profiles in the hacked messenger!

I told V “art” is part of my job because medicine is an art, right? Isn’t that a saying? “The art of medicine.”

Call V after 7:13 chat. This is a good call from him - not romantic I mean - but definitely good for more insight on how he now views his role in Rika’s progression.

Whoa whoa new chat room theme song when Rika joined in.

VANDERWOOOOOOOOOD!!! Bless. Their haggling is pretty adorable.

Update: V finally changed his profile picture & is emo as fuck.

About time these idiots realize the sun is fucking dangerous. Stop using it for your nonsense. This is driving me more insane than any other aspect of the game. Mention the sun again & I’m going to go stare directly into it until my corneas melt.

Was that finally a confession of feelings for you but kinda backhanded about it? With how torn up Jihyun is about this entire Rika situation, I’m very surprised that this route would even be considered a love endeavor between he & MC. I don’t think he’s anywhere near emotionally ready to pursue a new relationship with someone so soon after this chaos. I don’t know how I’ll feel if either of the ‘good’ endings is them together right away - it’ll just feel so wrong for the progression of his character. I think Jihyun needs to learn to love & accept himself before he can open up again to trying to love someone - at least loving something the right way.

Hahaaaa like hell am I going to say THE SUN is my muse. I’m going to stop going out in daylight at this point. My bones are going to get brittle. Thanks, Cheritz.

Omg V’s mom is such a boss lady. Be strong, Lynn. Don’t cry.

Aw shit, that fucked me up emotionally.

Is this why V doesn’t like people looking at his body? Does he have scars from this fire? I hope we get more on this. Or was that body comment just another glimpse into how unsure V is about himself? Another tidbit of not loving himself? Hmm.

I am honestly at a loss, I don’t know if I’m answering correctly to get to the party.

Noooo! V, why did you lie again?! He asked you point blank. You were progressing so well. THIS CAN ONLY END IN TEARS. TELL SEVEN THE TRUTH! Seven is going to be beyond hurt when he finds out that you just kept lying! He needs to know about Saeran! He needs to save him!

The music in this 22:00 chat is absolutely fantastic. Who is the music developer for this game. Give them a raise & a three week vacation to Hawaii. This soundtrack is so great.

OMGGGG did I fuck up? If V goes back to Rika, I swear. I’m so done. Ohh, that’s going to be a bad end, isn’t it? He’s going to give in again & go back to her!

This relationship is so twisted. We’re talking in fucking circles. This is the most unproductive conversation I’ve ever been a part of & I’ve spoken with anti-vaxxers in person.

I’m absolutely crushed. This was it. This was the moment? That full break between Ray & Unknown… I have no words. This is so so sad. The VA even does a different voice each of them.

I’m crying. Full on tears. Ray…

If this was the moment of the full separation between Ray & Unknown in this timeline, I am still curious what was the trigger to cause the full break between personalities in the original timelines. I really hope we get a Saeran route now. I wasn’t hoping for one before, but Cheritz has me hooked now. I need redemption for Saeran.

DAY NINE

So, I’m guessing I’m on the right track? Because I just realized a lot of the answers in this portion have a lot of self-centered MC options? So I’m trying to avoid the “me me me, V is better off with me” choices & focusing more on the “V is changing & growing for himself” options. I’m sticking with that since I’m fully on board with my theory that V needs to learn to love & live for himself.

DON’T BRING THE MOON INTO THIS. LEAVE HER ALONE. SHE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS.

Juuuumiiiin. I’ve missed you!

How many times do you think Rika had to set up her phone to auto take that photo of her standing in front of the Moon before she got it right?

VANDERWOOD!

VANDERWOOD SELFIE!

GIVE VANDERWOOD AN RFA PROFILE

VAN.DER.WOOOOOOD.

Vanderwood is laying down some fucking truth in this VN with V. Vanderwood - the voice of the people.

At this point, I'm just over arguing & talking in circles.

My heart was in my throat thinking Ray was going to drop the news that Seven was his brother in that chat room they were in together. I was waiting for it; I don’t even think I was breathing.

Oh RFA members + Mint Eye in the same chat rooms?! LET’S DO THIS.

Petition to rename the RFA to something else, anything else.

WHO DID THIS WOMAN JUST STAB. OMG. OMGGGGG. WTF WAS THAT PHONE CALL?!

Nobody has ever given V a hug before? How cold. I’ll hug you. I’ll hug the crap out of you.

I’m going to go hug my mom…

Update: Hugged my dad along the way to finding my mom to hug her. Hugged my cat too. My sister opened her arms for a hug when she saw I was making rounds, but I just high-fived both hands & walked past. I’m such an asshole.

Rika is flip flopping all over the damn place. Did you want his love or not? Is he your sun or not? Are you angry or not? Do you want him dead or not? I’m over it. Go away.

Ok why the fuck was the phone call from Rika about her stabbing someone BEFORE the actual VN where she stabbed someone?! I was so confused. That has to be some glitch.

$10 says now Rika is going to be torn between wanting V to die or not. She’s just going to keep flip-flopping. In the end, she’s just as obsessed.

Wow. Wow. The phone call where Seven is freaking out. Like genuine emotion scared shitless. Excellent acting.

DAY TEN

Rika was off looking for love her entire life when Yoosung was literally there right beside her loving her unconditionally when he finally met her.

Lmao "Don't go to the apartment, Yoosung. There's a bomb there." Yeah that's right, bitches. I can see in the future.

Damn Jaehee. Savage. I liiiiike it.  

"I didn't stab him that deep." Confession! WHOOP, THERE IT IIIIIS.

Son of a bitch. Ray is going to sacrifice himself isn't he?! While Rika's off playing house in her apartment again. I'm so pissed. Please please please let Seven save him.

I've been waiting for this Rika/Yoosung messenger chat! Now I fully expect Yoosung to resist harder & plead/beg. If I'm wrong, I'll eat my hat.

Damn they just give MC a straight up "hang up" option on Rika. Take no shit,  MC.

Everyone is hella vaguing in their profiles lolololol. You know you’re desperate when you’re vaguing in a closed off messenger accessible to only 7 people. We all know who you’re talking about. You’re not slick. 

Oh shit. V's mom making a comeback to slap me right in my feelings.

Ray's call after the 18:00 chat...

I have never been more attracted to Jumin in my fucking LIFE.

Ray’s best call is the one you make to him after 19:49. He cares so so much. He has so much to give despite being hurt & used & broken over & over again.  This was a great phone call. Devastatingly sad, but excellent for his character.

Where in the fresh hell did Vanderwood just pop off to? Last I saw him Seven asked him to look after MC. Then never again…

You bet your ass I chose the answer to tie Yoosung up. Like my thirsty domme ass was going to let that opportunity sliiiiiide on by. I’m not even surprised that Yoosung giggled at the idea. Bless his subby heart. Boy wants it bad. I am willing to give & give & give...

Whooooa 21:53 chat: “Ray has entered the chatroom” but ended with “Unknown has left the chatroom” I know this happened before but this is right before the final fight, right? Is Seven going to show up & find Unknown instead of Ray? Are they even going to do the brother reveal? Ray’s going to die, isn’t he? I can’t help but think that if V had told him, Seven would have tried harder, would have gone there personally. But then maybe Seven would get hurt too? Is Seven going to die?!

Yes, Jihyun! Find & love yourself! Live for yourself! This is an excellent idea! I approve of this. You need this. Forget about Rika! I wish you luck! 

Sonofabitchfuckfuckfuck. Ray deserved better. RAY DESERVED BETTER. That poor boy. He was so used, so confused, & so so tormented. I’m so angry. This wasn’t fair. I’m going to pout & be pissy about this for a long time. I’m hoping he really isn’t dead. Please please. I’m going to be in denial about this, I know it. I mean, they did show him in the control room in Mint Eye. He gave his final words & then there was the explosion. Is it too silly to hope that he somehow got out? Maybe...

Wowowow. That final chat with Rika, begging like that. That was brutal. Even in the middle there she switched between pleading & saying she’d get revenge. I really do pity her & I hope she gets help in this route but at this point I don’t even know. I’m on this emotional see-saw where I really dislike her but on the other side pity her. I’ll admit, I’m spending a lot more time on the side of not liking her. 

DAY ELEVEN

She’s not dead. There’s no way. I won’t believe it until I see a body (same with Saeran). YOU CAN’T TRICK ME. I’M A VETERAN OF THESE PLOYS!

Jumin. Fucking. Han. This man is so good. He’s so strong even though he’s struggling himself. That “lean on me” line nearly had me tearing up. Jumin Han is a GOOD MAN.

Also, Jumin said it isn’t confirmed if the hacker was in the building or not. I mean, being in a direct explosion could very well decimate a body, but what if he got out? Ray did sound pretty desolate about not having anywhere else to go & did seem pretty resigned to this suicide mission though. This isn’t fair.

PARTY ATTEMPT #1 (Invited 24 guests) - Good Ending?

WHAT?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? Is this like a “bad end” party? Why is she here? I fucked up, didn’t I? (I feel like the Minister of Magic in Harry Potter shouting “He’s back!”) ((If she gets to live & Ray actually died... I can’t. I’m still so angry.))

Yoosung, noooo!

OMG YOOSUNG, YES!

V’s mom has managed to make me tear up nearly every time she pops up on the screen. She had such impact on this route despite not be present in the here & now of it. She’s an angel. A fucking angel. Every CG of her’s has blessed me. This background story on her was so amazing. Her struggle & sacrifice for her son & finding purpose in herself after losing so much was... so beautiful. I’m going to cry again. 

BABY JIHYUN WITH HIS MOM CG. I’m crying for real. This is beautiful. The emotions for this were so so good.

What is with this game & Alaska?! Everyone is going there. Maybe Ray went to Alaska! 

That’s rich, Zen. Calling Jumin an alcoholic. Pot meet kettle.

Shit goddamn Jumin, was it necessary to be THAT savage about Zen’s selfies?

Jihyun turned into a beautiful happy hippie.

Hippie Jihyun is hot as hell. That smile. Wow.

Holy shit. “I want to love you. I will love you. I love you, just as I love myself.” That’s a damn good line! Damn good. 

Honestly, I am beyond glad, thrilled, immensely happy that there was a two year gap between Jihyun & MC actually getting together. If he had just jumped right into a relationship with MC after all of this, I would have questioned the foundation of the relationship. He was not emotionally ready for that so I’m glad the story allowed the time break so he could grow, heal, discover on his own.

I like that Jihyun wanted to be called his birth name again, not the ‘persona’ V that he’d created for his art, like a cloak or shield. He found & accepted himself & wanted to be that person. That’s beautiful. Self-love is very hard to achieve. I know a lot of people struggle with it, so it’s nice to see that represented in a character.

I want answers for what happened with Rika. We are just to assume she was sent off somewhere to get help with no updates?

I do not like that Seven was never told about Ray. I know it would cause more hurt for him, but he deserved to know. That just felt dirty. I feel dirty.

I am genuinely impressed that Yoosung was the one to stand up at the end to apprehend Rika. He was a little tornado this entire route & I was glad to see him finally understand at the end that this Rika was not the same one he cared so deeply for. Being the one to grab her & hand her in, had to have hurt him - but he stepped up & did it. That was good progression for him. Took him a long damn while to get to that acceptance, but that action of his took a lot.

I’m glad Jihyun’s route focused more on his development to turn away from obsession & look toward himself. It’s a similar kind of character growth in the other routes (learning to accept yourself & grow beyond something holding you back). These stories were never just about falling in love with someone, they grew to be better versions of themselves in the end. Jihyun’s development was definitely more artistic (cushioned in prose & woven in metaphors & abstracts) than others, but it was interesting just the same.

I like that they made such a big deal about Jihyun getting his eyes repaired. He refused to get them healed other times, but showing he was willing now & grateful to Jumin for setting it up was a nice touch to see how developed he’s become & showing he’s willing to let go of Rika (despite him talking about her every other sentence still…). Baby steps. He’s letting go of the hurt, recognizing he’s worthy of love & happiness too.

Maybe it’s just me, but was anyone else sort of wanting to see a CG of one of Jihyun’s paintings? I would have liked to have seen what they considered his painting style. He looks much more relaxed & carefree in his good ending CG, I wondered if his paintings would have reflected that.

PARTY ATTEMPT #2 (Invited 5 guests) - Normal Ending?

I really like this idea of Jihyun just venturing out on his own to find what he likes, what makes him happy. The self-discovery journey. But boy, you were just stabbed. I don’t think you can be discharged within a day after a celiotomy.

Jihyun talking about his dream house is ridiculously cute. This man essentially wants a little messy cottage in the city. How adorable. He went from being a materialistic & pragmatic teenager to being content with a sort of abstract pleasures in his adulthood.

Oh, so in this ending Jihyun asks MC right off the bat to be with him. Seems a little rushed, no? I don’t think he’s ready. He’s feeling a lot right now. Who is to say his obsession won’t transfer over to MC? He claims to have learned his lesson & to recognize the difference between obsession & love but I still think it’s very soon. I really wouldn’t want this to turn into Jihyun becoming dependent on MC after this emotional trauma & that being the basis for their relationship.

MC’S ONLY RESPONSE IS “ALRIGHT” Omg. So bland.

Are we to assume that Rika is actually dead in this ending? Because she never showed back up? Hmm.

So there’s a 2 year jump in this ending too, only we’re to assume that MC & Jihyun have been together as a couple during that time?

Ohhhhhh you can call Jihyun “darling”! <3

Wait, didn’t Jihyun say he wanted a little house in the city with curtains to block out the sun? This looks like a high rise apartment with massive fucking windows & sheer curtains that let in a lot of sun... but ok.

WHOA WHOA, Jihyun became a musician in this ending?! I want to know what he plays! Does he play piano like his theme song?! Does he play violin like his mom?!?! I will cry.

Jihyun’s pouty voice is ADORABLE! Holy crap where has this been all my life?!

Oh, interesting! He’s still very sensitive to the opinions of others (I mean, I certainly didn’t expect that to go away, you’re always going to fear criticisms). At least, he seems a little more open to hearing them, even if he’s hesitant to play for MC again since he wants her to like what he plays. He’s still a little shy, private, & sensitive. Cute.

These rich boys & their pancakes…

Jumin obsessed with pancake recipes confirmed. I love him so much.

His answer about their relationship was very sweet & shows how he’s come to understand a give & take balance, as well as loving himself & genuinely loving together. That was cute.

Still pissed that Seven never found out about Ray.

I want to know what instrument Jihyun plays!

OTHER

I went from being very skeptical of Jihyun’s character (he just felt downright shady) in other routes to liking him (now that we see the depths of his self-damaging & self-sacrificing behavior & the full reason behind all the secrets). He’s certainly not perfect. He’s made many mistakes. He was misguided in a lot of aspects. He’s still learning & now trying to do better. He’s talented, pretty, sensitive, kind, & generous. He was a victim as well & even had a hand in his own progressing downfall before he realized his mistakes & reevaluated himself & the situation. I definitely like him a lot more now that I know the reasoning behind his actions & seeing the changes in him for the better - especially seeing him accept & appreciate himself more. 

Yeah yeah, I’m going to be that person - I’m sad we didn’t get a kiss CG! I wanted one, not going to lie. Maybe we’ll get one for his After Ending if he gets an after ending?! Who knows. I wanna smooch him, that’s for sure. 

I expected to like the normal ending more since I liked all the other normal endings for the other characters more than their good endings, however I find myself liking Jihyun’s good ending over his normal ending. I just can’t get past the fact that I think he needed that self-evaluation time away from MC. That two years apart (though probably a lot longer than I would have expected the game to do) felt necessary. In his good ending, Jihyun sounded much more certain that MC was who he wanted to be with & to love instead of asking MC straight away to just stick by him in his normal ending. In his normal ending, MC questioned him, & he sort of recited a dialogue about their love. Maybe I’m reading too much into this, but it sounded like he was trying to reassure himself? Or maybe MC was just trying to gently remind him that yes, what we have is real, & healthy, & good for both of us & just needed him to say it aloud? Regardless, good ending sat better with me overall.

I still want to know what the other photos were in that series of photographs he took. I mean Seven, sounded pretty damn shocked by them. We didn’t even get a line about if it was actual imagines of inflicted harm or salacious material (I’m not trying to be a pervert for once, I’m genuinely curious).

Ray deserved better. I don’t think I can put it into any other words than that. I was very upset with his end in all of this. He didn’t deserve that. Only Rika & V knew his identity. Rika is either dead or being treated somewhere (depending on whichever ending you cater to) & in neither of the endings did Jihyun make known that the hacker was Saeran. I’m legitimately angry about this. How can Saeran even rest in peace that way? Is only the audience (& MC) to mourn for him? Everyone (RFA) is mourning for Rika in a sense but Ray deserves SOMEONE who knows who he was. Sure, Rika has that moment where she screamed & felt remorse, but she still didn’t speak up. Would anyone have believed her if she had? Maybe not. But he deserved someone trying on his behalf. Maybe I’m sitting too long on this, but it felt dirty. I know I said that earlier somewhere, but I still think it. This was wrong. He died in an explosion, alone, with only two people knowing who he really was & they didn’t fucking say anything. Seven is never going to really know what happened to his brother, so what happens if he goes looking for him in the future? Fuck, I’m crying again. I’m so sorry, Ray. You didn’t deserve this, you just trusted the wrong people. 

#v's route #another story #mm #mysme #mystic messenger #text post #long post #meowle mumbles #meowle notes #jihyun kim #V #jumin han #yoosung kim #zen #hyun ryu #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #saeran choi #ray choi #jaehee kang #rika #vanderwood #spoilers #jihyun kim route notes #route notes

[dominodebt]

a wip to prove I’m not dead

HEY KIDS so idk how many of you follow me on twitter but I’ve been very chatty about this Original Thing I’m doing and for some reason these past two weeks I was suddenly like “fuck it. I wanna work on that” and hit 50k words which as someone who typically hovers around 3-5k per story, is a pretty cool thing!

but now the first big arc of that thing is done and I’m not really down with sharing it quite yet because it’s very rough and being edited right now by some pals of mine, so maybe when it’s a little more polished I’ll share some? who knows!

ANYWAY fanfic is a thing and now that my original stuff is on hold I’m diving back into it. Here’s a Fire Emblem: Fates piece that I’ll have finished soon. It looks at Kamui’s (Corrin’s) life and upbringing in Nohr, particularly her relationship with Marx (Xander) so here’s the first bit of that!

for those of you who may not know the story? Kamui was kidnapped as a child from her “home” (complicated) of Hoshido to Nohr. the game never really touches on how she’s treated initially or how she mixes in with Nohr’s royal family and I liked the idea of Marx having to kind of shoulder the burden all on his own.

Sorry for the big hiatus, but Author Mom should be settling back into things and cranking out fics again real soon!

(if you ever wonder where I am or why I’m not writing or I’ve missed an ask of yours, I’m on my twitter like all hours of the day so that’s always a good place to contact me <3)

“She’s just up these stairs, milord.”

          Gunther’s voice is a deep rumble in his chest as he lifts the lantern in his hand a little higher to illuminate the steps. The flickering firelight throws shadows across his face, highlighting the places where battles and age have carved out their place.

           Prince Marx nods stiffly, trying not to shiver as he draws his cloak tighter around himself, following the knight up the narrow stairway.

           “Is this part of the castle not kept warm?” Marx asks as they continue their climb.

           Gunther laughs hoarsely, and his breath clouds before him. Marx’s jaw tightens. He has his answer.

           “No one’s lived in the Northern Fortress for ages, milord,” Gunther explains. He grabs the young man’s arm, quickly pulling him off his course. “Watch your step. This staircase is crumbling.”

           Sure enough, the stonework begins to collapse where the prince had stood just a moment before, and he eyes it darkly as they climb higher.

           “Is this safe?” Marx demands, still frowning at the ruined patch of staircase. “The girl could die if she isn’t careful moving about this tower.”

           Gunther casts the prince a sideways look as they reach the top of the stairs.

           “If I may speak frankly, milord,” the old knight rumbles. “I doubt the thought crossed His Majesty’s mind.”

           His words draw a scowl from the prince—an expression of deep disdain already familiar on his young face. Gunther would feel sorry for him—ten and five is too early for such anger and scorn—but there is no other way to survive in Castle Krakenburg.

           One must armor themselves in their hate, lest they be overtaken by the backstabbing liars that fill this place.

           “A fair assessment,” the prince remarks stiffly as they arrive at the landing. Gunther reaches out to pull open the door, but pauses when Marx lifts a hand.

           “Milord?” Gunther asks, but Nohr’s heir pays him no mind as he raps twice on the ancient wood, the sound echoing loudly in the lofty tower.

           Silence answers the summon, and neither man is surprised.

          “Guard the stairwell,” Marx orders him lowly, and Gunther obediently steps back to do so as the prince pulls the door open and sweeps inside, pitch cloak swirling behind him like a wayward shadow as the air rushes out.

           The room is sheer cold—a raw, biting chill that steals the breath from Marx’s chest as he exhales a shaky cloud through gritted teeth. He steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him—what, to not let the cold in?—and makes a note to pull whatever strings he must in order to warm this room by tomorrow.

           “Hello?” he calls, glancing around. The room is small, backlit by the moon’s pale glow and washed out in its eerie silver light. Marx takes another step, and hears a small sharp intake of breath.

           His eyes snap to the noise—dark gaze picking her out in the whiteout of the room.

           She cuts an impossibly small figure, silhouetted against the Nohrian moonlight as she is. Her hair is matted and darkened with blood—eyes wide and fearful and as red as the crimson stains on her dress.

           Marx stares, completely at a loss.

           A child.

           “A Hoshidan princess,” his father’s retainer had announced.

           “A bargaining chip,” Gunther had murmured darkly.

           Marx cannot bring himself to look away—trapped in her troubled ruby gaze. A child.

           His thoughts spring to Elise and Leon—both children in their own right, this girl hardly older than them—and he grits his teeth as panic blooms hot and tight in his chest.

           This is wrong. This is so terribly, terribly wrong—

           The prince swallows hard, dropping down into a crouch to level himself with her. She’s still a few feet away, and he doesn’t dare move closer.

           “It’s all right,” Marx murmurs, calling upon the low, gentle tone he reserves for his siblings and spooked horses. He holds out a hand, but she gasps and spins away, hiding her face in the tattered curtains that hang from the window.

           Marx watches her for a moment before smoothly withdrawing his hand, berating himself.

           Of course she’d be afraid of him. Of course. She’s young and scared and alone and covered in her father’s blood. She is a thousand miles from home and locked in a drafty fortress with strangers at every turn.

           He watches her, idly wondering if he’d not been in the room when his father had returned—if he’d not heard of the girl’s arrival himself and decided to investigate—if anyone would have come to check on her.

           The thought—and its definitive answer—makes his blood boil in the frozen room.

           “My name is Marx,” he tells her softly, still holding her gaze. He’s not sure if he could look away if he tried. Her eyes are luminous in the dark of the tower—glowing like cursed rubies as she peers at him from around the curtain. They draw him in like moth and flame. “May I hear yours?”

           He lets the silence wash over them, content to go at her pace—he knows what it feels like to be pushed and prodded and provoked—and in the settling quiet, hears a strange noise he hadn’t caught before.

           A bizarre series of clicks? Marx tilts his head, glancing around as he tries to place the sound, and realizes it’s coming from the girl—who stands trembling with cold, teeth chattering as she tries desperately to hide herself in the ruined curtains.

           Marx’s heart—ironclad and cold like the country he will inherit—crumbles to dust at the sight.

           In a swift movement that startles a gasp out of the girl, Marx unclasps his cloak and removes it with a flourish, the thick wool heavy in his hands as he folds it up as neatly as he can and sets in on the floor before him.

           The girl seems torn between eyeing the strange new parcel and keeping the prince in her sights, so Marx decides to make things easier for her and leave. He taps the cloak as he rises, meeting her gaze as kindly as he can.

           “For you, if you’d like it,” he tells her gently.

           Her blood-red gaze drops down to the cloak, but then darts up to his just as quickly. She doesn’t move.

           With a quiet sigh, Marx straightens back to his full height—unable to miss how the girl shrinks from him as he does so—and turns to leave, rejoining Gunther back on the landing as he closes the door to her room behind him.

           Gunther lifts a split eyebrow as the prince idly inspects the tarnished lock and keyhole, adding more things to his growing list.

           “That was quick,” he notes, and Marx just hums noncommittally, still lost in his thoughts.

           “When does my father plan to return her?” he eventually asks, cutting a sideways glance at Gunther.

           The old guard lifts his eyebrows, weathered face awash in the flickering fire of his lantern.

           “Return her, milord?” he questions, uncertainty coating his words.

           Marx waves a hand impatiently. “Yes, return her. To Hoshido. To her home.”

          Gunther just stares back at him—as he often does—simply waiting for the young prince to come to his own conclusion. That knowing look of a teacher, silently urging him on…

          Come now, Marx. You’re a smart lad. Figure it out. You can do it.

          “He means to keep her here.” The chill of Marx’s realization could rival the frigidity of a Nohrian winter. “Indefinitely.”

          Gunther gazes back at him, expression painfully neutral, and Marx looks away with a disgusted scoff—curse his father to all seven Hells—and begins to descend the staircase.

           “Milord?” Gunther calls after him, hastening to follow. “Prince Marx, where are you going?”

           “To get firewood and spare blankets,” Marx returns bitterly. The chill of the fortress rushes to meet him as he makes his way down, and he reflexively reaches for the clasp of his cloak to draw it tighter, when he remembers it is now in the possession of another.

#fire emblem: fates #fic wip #corrin #kamui #xander #marx

[rosthemisguidedghost-blog]

“I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love”

About a dozen fixtures slash through black space, in their beams they materialize a young fräulein. The dreadful February had brought another early night, blowing a barren wasteland of snow descending on the mountain layer by layer. Hamilton lay painted under a pale, dead sky; the ground seemed to finally become one with the atmosphere- no horizon, just grey. Winds gusted in a diagonal blur over the streets and the Red Hill’s dark waters, ice gently blanketing over. Hours of fleecy clouds and frost had found Odile in her studio overlooking the city’s clogging commotion en route. Silently slurping a quarter of what is left in her mug, she lightly pities the view and for a while ponders.

               Behind the gloom, a pair of ice-chip-and-grey eyes; Odile nestles down in the middle of the dance space for her first extensions of the day. As she was graceful, her bare feet were a bandaged atrocity of calluses, blisters, some bunions, split or even missing toenails. Their sharp cracking shatters the deafening silence with each arch and point, the sight constantly reminds her of the fact that she’ll never again wear a pair of sandals just about anywhere.

The dancer soon hoists her posture high on pointe and prays that the box does not go dead beforehand, she lingers on her toes long enough for it to be malleable… and begins to twirl, as light as air and carefree around the lit section. Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No.2 recites tenderly far in the distance. Odile’s figure remains serene with each beat, moving precisely and rhythmically to the piano and orchestra, beginning to lose herself in this unorthodox design she’s constituted for. The mirrored wall presents her as plain and no-nonsense; hers was the face of a student with a gaze that was deep and thoughtful, a gaze of a girl fraught with inexplicable horror and peril. Her cobweb locks of light and subtle dustings cannot differentiate how prepossessing she is. Her defined vertebrate and shoulders stay taut with head held high.

She pauses briefly and eyes her duplicate, marking into position for a series of fouettés. Bobbing up and down on one pointed foot, she drives each turn whipping the alternate leg outwards and around. With such ferocity she spins, arms sweeping open, head snapping forward; only this… thirty-two times. Alas, she lands a keen step to finalize her parade before a lonesome audience. She could have sworn she felt the building’s narrow corridors rumbling through the flooring and walls; rough winds dare shake or a passerby came to mind as she snapped her head in various directions like a paranoiac. She looks beyond the panes of glass, weak and weary, the storm had settled into a monochromatic devoid of life with what little warmth the worthless sun could offer the city.

.     .     .

               Her half-sister, Alayne, arose roughly twenty-after-nine- more on weekends to days-off than she’d care to admit. She waltzes into the midst of their modern-style kitchen, climbing quietly aboard a bar stool to nurse a chronic headache on the cool marble top. The recovering tobacco addict wound up skimming and slogging over lines from Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus; she’d branded the inapposite legend a sadistic fuck after the torture of putting up with Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice, and Hamlet. Alayne was one with a crave for irony and purposeful deaths, in terms of fiction; Odile bethought herself it was notorious for a palled seventeen-year-old.

               The emphasis is broken when Odile stumbles down the staircase dressed in Payne’s grey and blanched gold; Alayne sends a thin smile her way, her lead stare shows otherwise.

“Morning, you.” Odile glances at her.

“Please,” Alayne’s answer came out distinctly rushed, with aches doing her justice, “I’m not awake yet.”

Odile gestures at her with a coffeepot in hand. “Did you fill it?”

Alayne rests her head yet again on the atop the counter, arms wrapped around. “No; I woke up around fifteen minutes ago with hell on my mind.” She replies, “Buck ought to be fussing about in the kitchen, perhaps?”  

“Is he awake?” Odile asks.

“His door’s still open, wasn’t in there when I walked past.”

Odile sighs faintly, still thinking about Bucky. They both sat together in close silence, gently caressing Alayne’s ebony lengths of wavy hair, most would seldom see her with anymore makeup as to think it was nothing more than natural. They remained tranquil as her judgement tossed in the ocean. Straightening her stance, Alayne finally spoke. “We don’t talk as so much as just four-word responses, but you know how he stomps like a horse?” She removes her head from the soft grasp and locks eyes with her sister, bringing her right hand close to her cheek and points her index to the ceiling. “Rooftop, if I’m not wrong.” Devastation hummed about Alayne’s ears in phrasing that.

“You should go…” Alayne struggles to hold on what more to add… still sitting listlessly as she had started with a sympathetic look, tracing hidden scars over her long sleeves of linen.

It’s then after a period of indecision she embraces the occasion to depart, straining her ears to listening to just ringing and heartbeats, and licking bloody lips her front teeth had flayed. Odile could see it darting across her face. Day after day, it was so easy to dismiss the long-caged sorrow when they had the last of each other; they did not quite understand themselves.

Waldeburg lay locked and loaded in one of the living room’s drawers, and Odile just held it in her hands. The memory of their Papa and how shamefully his life had stood made her recoil, shuddering again as its cool grip, gleaming slide and barrel racked her frame in intimidation.

She was tearing apart, fraying sooner than a book’s pages; Odile drops the pistol back into the drawer and stumbles into her boots, throwing on a navy coat. She hastens back upstairs, climbing them as she risked sparking a light in sync with pushing open the rusted door seeing her to the rooftop; light cast upon her face. All her soul and spirit burned.

.     .     .

               Magnetic and intense, Bucky perched himself lonely atop the placid cornice, draping his legs of the edge and brunet strands by thousands knew where sat the wind. He would only act in such a way solely for some nudging adrenaline. He had the uncouth complexion of someone lost to a sea of cold; no light, just reminiscing what is was like to once feel warm…

               Wham! Announced the door. Bucky jumped only slightly, his wary baby blues had all the seeming, darting to Odile’s unintentionally abrupt entrada. Ah shit. She muttered below a whisper through with gritted teeth. Her hands burrow deep into her pockets as she is embarrassed. Bucky breaks the gaze for a second, hanging his head, now somewhat uncomfortable by her presence.

               “Odd-eyes.” Spoke only Bucky.

               “Stump.” Odile backfires, a light scoff is drawn from him. She inhales the smoke hurriedly and douses the light into a snowbank. “I don’t think it’s high enough,” She added.

               “Me neither.” He admits it, distant and rocking his thoughts. Releasing the tension in his body, he asks, “Why’re you here?”

               “Fresh air?”

               He is bland, “Wow.”

               “No, no, it’s just that…” she exhales, “for Steve’s sake, you could really spare us the heart attack. Anyway,” Odile starts approaching his side largo, peering over Hamilton glowing with flaxen lamps after four, a good fifty feet above James Street, “Alayne heard you ascend. I was just hoping you didn’t jump just yet.”

               “You two look almost nothing alike. I don’t get it.” 

“It’s called having a half-sibling; we’re pretty much a duet of jet and ivory.” A chilling breeze rolls by; they give each other a moment’s grace. “In sooth, Alayne’s all Pa, and I my own mother.” 

“So, what’s the story?” 

“What?” 

“You and Alayne?” 

“I-I’m not…” Shaking her head, Odile feels her throat clench like an iron fist. She stops, turns from Bucky, and respires deeply to recover herself. When she looked back at him, her face mellowed. She struggled to find some proper diction.

“Answer me this, and I pray you hear me yet:” Bucky began, “afraid or not, would you live for what made worth staying?”

Odile swivels and stares out at the eventide once more, and she steps further towards the mystery that is him. “I learned that to my sorrow; I wouldn’t die for Alayne to prove just how important she’s to me. I can’t speak against my Pa’s bond, the oath I swore before plugging a slug between those same eyes-which now she has.”

He caught her sight, “I’m sorry.” Odile looked right at him. Her orbs holding his with a terrible honesty.

“That pistol I keep stored in the living room, Waldeburg,” she persists with ghosts in her breath, “not very often I think of shooting myself with it. Once it’s in my palms… I just lose that urge suddenly. That’s the same pistol I favoured him with a less odious death than to the torch.”

Bucky carefully considers it, then reassures himself closer to her. “My voice may not hold songs, but, it’d make more sense to live for me, if that isn’t too selfish.”

“After all that time, so let it be done.” Quoth she. “G’night, Buck.” Odile’s hand just grazes his bionic prosthesis as she treads away, not looking back as she heads onward into the building, feebly, not definite in wanting to flee at all. She leans on the door frame, still watching him more focused on the thriving mass of humanity below. The memories of Brooklyn began stressing.

“How do you do it?” He had waited to request.

“Be specific.” Odile knitted her brows.

“Pulling a new facade in a crowd of millions? Just how?”

Silence. She is left astonished by the question and eases for a moment, her expression soft. “It’s mostly a second nature; I don’t pretend, not out there, with an audience.” She chuckles faintly, “But then it’s only a matter of time you become everyone in no one.”

“That’s sweet…” Bucky pushes what other words he was forming back into his mouth.

“Quite accurate,” She pouts. “It’s such a sad thought afterwards, though.”

“I’d say likewise; just wish everything was different.”

“Hey,” Odile implores him, “‘it’s beautiful beneath the sea, but if you stay too long, you’ll drown.’” It took Bucky a moment to understand what Odile had meant. She was dismayed to hear her own tone, the defeat and disappointment as she ran her fingers through her hair, tangling in the strands. “You can travel back in time, but you can never go home again…”

“…with nothing more,” He finishes. Another long pause sat amidst their bejeweled darkness that would last forever. “Just need to keep going after I bury this whole bedlam of a life.” He looked to her, “Those journals I drag around, they’re all scattered in there, and not everything is pretty… they’re the only things I’m ever prepared to walk away with.”

“Even so, the aftermath is secondary,” she went on, this time barely audible and cupping his crestfallen face in her palms. Not waiting for him. “Close your eyes…”

Odile forces his head forward benignly, laying him to rest on her insistent mouth. And proceeded to parting his lips.

Bucky tremored, eyes still fast shut.

She kissed him dumbly, softly as a start before augmenting an intensity that made him crush her to his brawny chest. Her fingers like the stars, stroking his bristly throat and gripping his mane. To him, Odile almost seemed a thing too fine to hold, until a surging tide of helplessness and warmth, perhaps even home, leaves him limp- yielding. Gentle isn’t what she wants, not now, he thought. And the quiet reminders of history, for that moment, finally were blurred and drowned into nothingness. Bucky had dreaded that these sensations he was even capable of feeling now would not again evoke. For her sheer audacity, he did more than pick his own away. He returned the favour.

The stillness gave no token for when her heels wound her back to the surface, porcelain hands still made a clutch to his nape; their heads in the clouds, she tried to remember what his eyes looked like in a way she had never seen anything in her life before. Her cheek of summer dawn creeped a smile and watched him, never flitting.

You're here

and nowhere else.

‘Louder than God’s revolver and twice as shiny.’

But I’ve let myself rust…

A.R. Iza’s Note: Feel free to ask about more information regarding Odile and Alayne ( OC biographies, facts, likes, dislikes, relationships, physical descriptions) , perhaps even Bucky as to how and why the hell he wound up on the northern side of the border.  However, I might find myself too busy in order to write any other stories for this pairing, I’ll make no such promises.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #my chemical romance #i'm mcr trash #danger days #look alive sunshine #bucky would probably hate mcr #marvel #im canadian deal with it #im sorry please dont hate me

[thekuroiookami]

KnB (Fairytale AU) - If the glove fits

Of all things, he was going to be defeated by a soot stain. Kagami scrubbed the hem of the silk coat with renewed vigour, but to no avail. The black patch stubbornly stayed where it was, a glaring mishap on the sheen of the otherwise pearly white fabric. He sighed and dropped the damp cloth onto the table.

“Well, I suppose I don’t have to expect any dinner tonight.” He grumbled at the injustice. “Even though I’ll be the one cooking it.”

Right on cue, the summoning bell in the kitchen tinkled angrily. He peered blearily out of one eye. Of course, it was one of his step-siblings. Of course. Who else had the capacity to torment him while he was bone tired?

With a sigh drawn from a world-weary soul, he wiped his hands on his apron, checking on the stew bubbling in the hearth as he left. Hoping that he wouldn’t be held up too long by whatever inane order they gave him next, Kagami opened the door to his step-brother’s opulent boudoir.

He dodged as a heeled shoe narrowly missed his head, hitting the door with a thunk. With dawning horror, he watched as the expensively studded buckle tumbled off. Another thing he’d have to spend precious hours repairing. He turned around to scowl at the attacker.

“What took you so long, idiot? Huh, I suppose I shouldn’t expect much out of someone so slow in the head, anyway.” Aomine lounged on a garishly striped couch, shirt half open, and the other shoe dangling from his fingers. “Oye, get me something to eat, and be quick about it. While you’re at it, my pillow book is missing. Find that as well.”

Kagami gritted his teeth and tried, again, to find that kindness and patience his mother had told him about. It was nowhere to be found. “I’m not a slave you can just order around as you please, moron. And dinner’s in two hours. Wait until then.”

Aomine stood up, lazily twirling the shoe. “Getting ideas too big for your head, errand boy? Don’t forget, it may be your mother’s house, but you live off our money. Don’t push your luck, or you’ll find yourself singing for coppers on the street. Now bring me my sandwich.”

Kagami let out a laugh that couldn’t quite hide his bitterness. “There’s no chance of that, seeing not one of you can cook. You’d die in a week if I weren’t around to keep house.”

A sinister yet musical voice sent sudden chills down his back. “You overestimate your value, Kagami. I would have cut you from the household long ago, if it were not for the memory of your dear mother.”

He took a step back, face frozen in guilty terror, as Akashi glided into the room, followed a disinterested Midorima. He gulped as his step-father’s narrowed crimson eyes surveyed him, the disdain evident. Kagami’s other sibling merely huffed in annoyance and went back to inspecting the miniature cuckoo clock he was carrying.

Akashi slowly strolled past the dressing table, trailing his fingers over the white wood. “I’m more than happy to hire new, more competent help if I thought it was necessary. But how else would you earn your keep here, Kagami? I am being more generous than many people would be, by taking you in.”

The words were out of his mouth before he could restrain himself. “BUT IT ISN’T YOUR MONEY! And I can’t just make food appear on a whim just because this glutton said so!”

Kagami stilled in fear as Akashi abruptly clenched his fingers around a silver hairbrush lying on the bureau. His eye glinted gold in the mirror as he slowly turned back to face a panicked Kagami.

“What did you say?”

“I mean- err-“

“Surely,” Akashi cut him off with deadly calm, “surely you were not attempting to defy me?”

Kagami shook his head frantically, eyes glued to the potentially fatal hairbrush in Akashi’s hand as the latter prowled forward. A previous incident with a letter opener had made Kagami wary of all projectiles in Akashi’s hands. His terrifying, evil, demonic step-parent spoke again.

“Because that would be unthinkable. One would almost say you had a death-wish.”

“I do not, milord. I’m sorry.”

After holding Kagami in the thrall of his satanic gaze for one more moment to ensure total subservience, Akashi nodded regally. “Then you may show your gratitude by making sure my sons are ready for the ball in three nights. I want them dressed in their very best. We’re trying to catch the eye of a princess, after all.”

Midorima and Aomine sat to attention at this. The former pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. “So it has been announced then? The princess is taking suitors?”

Akashi’s lips curved in a calculating smile. “Yes, the invitations just arrived this morning. Any man invited to the ball is eligible for her hand. All we need do is snare her.”

Aomine’s grin was lascivious. “I’ve heard she’s pretty easy on the eyes. And that she fills out her corsets nicely. I wouldn’t mind being shackled to a woman like that.”

Midorima spared a contemptuous glance for his brother. “I do not believe any discerning woman would take a second look at you. On the other hand, I will be well-prepared to charm her.”

“With your lucky item of the day?” Aomine scoffed at the notion. “If it’s anything like that thing you’re holding now, she’ll wise up quick to the fact that you escaped from the asylum.”

“Now, now,” said Akashi before things could heat up further, “we were discussing the matter of your attire. As I was saying, Kagami will be responsible for your clothing. Luckily, the market will be stocking new fabric tomorrow, so there will be just enough time to finish stitching it.”

Kagami felt his stomach drop. “New fabric? But that’s not enough time to make three coats from scratch!”

“I’m sure you’ll manage.” Akashi’s eyes burned into Kagami. “Won’t you?”

His shoulders slumped as he realized he wouldn’t be getting any sleep for the next few days. “Yes, milord.”

XXX

Kagami worked furiously for the next two days, sewing and cutting until his fingers were numb with pain. He had been deprived of some valuable time on the first day as Aomine dithered over what colour to pick. He knew the torment was deliberate on Aomine’s part. When he finally settled on a navy silk after three hours, Kagami’s joy had been cut short by the fact that Midorima’s belated appearance. Apparently the gypsy fortune-teller had read Midorima’s cards and suggested that he get – of all things – a frog shaped pin to ward off bad luck. There ensued another painful hour where Midorima hemmed and hawed until he found the forest-green velvet he wanted. After rushing home to cook dinner (because it wasn’t like house could run itself, Akashi said), he had barely enough time to take measurements and cut the cloth before collapsing into bed.

Now, he triumphantly dropped the scissors onto the floor and tied off the last stitch. “There, it’s done.”

Midorima tapped his foot impatiently. “Then hand it over, I must get ready. There’s barely two hours till the carriage arrives.”

Aomine sauntered in, grabbed his clothes, and went back out without a word of thanks. Akashi was also about exit the room when Kagami hesitantly spoke up. “Can I go too? To the ball, I mean?”

Akashi paused before answering. “Of course, I see no reason why not.”

He brightened until the red-head spoke again. “If you finish cleaning every fire-place in the manor before we leave, that is.”

Kagami watched his so-called family walk away, heart splintering until he was hollow inside. The ball would have been a chance to meet new people, perhaps find someone that liked duelling as much as he did. The princess he didn’t care much about, but the prince was rumoured to have a band of fighters that sailed the high seas in search of adventure. This would have been a golden opportunity to meet him, and maybe impress him enough that he’d ask Kagami to join. But, as always, fate liked to have the last laugh.

He stood on the porch, watching the last of his hopes fade away as the carriage rumbled down the drive with his cackling step-siblings in it. Sighing, he prepared to go start on the fireplaces.

“My, your family really aren’t very nice, are they?” A thoughtful voice came from somewhere near Kagami’s elbow.

He leapt back in fright as he realized a faintly glowing person stood next to him. “Who- what are you?”

The apparition’s mouth turned down at the corners. “You mean you don’t remember me, Kagami? I suppose you were younger then, but still…”

A hazy memory made its way to the surface of Kagami’s mind. “Ku..ro..ko?”

“That’s right. Guardian fairy, at your service.” Kuroko produced a taped-together wand for emphasis.

“Guardian fairy? Some use you are. Where were you when I was being abused all this time?” If it weren’t for the blue glow, Kagami would have labelled the whole thing a scam.

Kuroko seemed to droop in despair. “I apologize, I didn’t know. As you can see, my magic is much weaker than the average fairy, so much that I go unnoticed most of the time. I mean, I was supposed to appear with a burst of light, but I barely managed a few sprinkles.”

Kagami nodded in understanding. If he squinted really hard, he could see some glitter in the lamplight.

Kuroko continued his sad tale. “It’ll get better when the Bureau processes my promotion, but until then, I can’t do anything large-scale. Like change your life for the better.”

Kagami sighed. “So what are you here for then? To chat?”

“I overheard you saying you wanted to go to the ball. I can help with that. First, you need transportation. Is there anything we can use?”

An excited bark startled the both of them. Kagami scrambled back as he realised a blue-eyed puppy had been watching the whole time. “Get it away from me!”

Kuroko smiled at the happy dog. “Yes, you’ll do nicely.” Kagami watched in fascination as the fairy drew some complex runes in the air, sparks emitting from the crack in the wand. The puppy began to glow with the same blue light as Kuroko and there was a sudden flash.

When Kagami blinked his eyes back into shape again, a dappled pony stood in the dog’s place, eagerly pawing at the ground. A polished saddle and bridle marked it as a form of converyance.

He turned to Kuroko, incredulous. “This? This is your idea of transportation? Shouldn’t it be a proper horse at least?” Granted, it was a rather large pony, but still.

Kuroko returned a deadpan look. “There are rules about these things, Kagami. Conservation of matter and such. You can’t just turn a puppy into a full-grown horse. It has to be proportionate across species. Now, if we had a Great Dane, it would be a different story.”

Kagami rubbed his temples. “You can’t even call it magic anymore…”

Kuroko cleared his throat. “Now for your clothes, I should be able to do a bit better…”

A wave of warm magic flowed over Kagami, brushing across his skin and hair. When he looked down again, he was wearing a beautifully fitted coat, far finer than any he could have stitched himself. The midnight fabric was offset by the snowy white shirt and cuffs. His cravat was held together by a ruby pin, and the buckles on his boots gleamed with the shine of newness. Kuroko looked intrigued.

“Interesting. You seem to amplify my magic when it’s used on you. Certainly I could not have achieved that by myself. We shall have to investigate it another time.”

Kagami didn’t hear him, too busy being amazed at the transformation. He sighed when he saw his hands though. Roughened with work and ash, they were clean, but still a contrast to the luxurious outfit. Kuroko noticed and smiled.

“And for the final touch…” Another set of runes appeared over Kagami’s hands. When the magic died away, a pair of ruby-red gloves, made of dove-soft leather and fitted perfectly to every finger, graced Kagami.

“A fine job, if I say so myself. I made that from elven leather, so take care of those.” Kuroko seemed very pleased with himself.

Kagami eyed the black and white pony with suspicion. “I still don’t want to ride that thing. It was a dog, no matter what you did to it.” His case was justified when the animal gave him a friendly lick to the face.

“Just give in, Kagami. You’ll be fine. Although..” Kuroko frowned at his malfunctioning wand. “This wand is a bit old, so I wouldn’t trust the magic to last long. You should endeavour to get home by midnight, it will wear off by then.”

The other boy rolled his eyes. “Just my luck, getting stuck with the one guardian fairy that’s low on magic. Might as well make the most of what I have then.” He pulled himself up onto the prancing horse and paused. “Hey, Kuroko?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for everything. Even if it doesn’t last long.”

Kuroko smiled, blue irises lighting up. “No problem. Enjoy yourself.”

And so, Kagami set off to the castle, finally one step closer to achieving his dream.

XXX

Prince Kise, seventeenth in a long line of illustrious monarchs, blew his hair out of his eyes in sheer boredom. Balls were all well and good, but this one was especially mind-numbing because it consisted of a long line of fawning men trying desperately to impress his sister. He glanced from the latest strutting suitor when someone nudged him.

The captain of his guard raised an eyebrow meaningfully. “Shouldn’t you be greeting the guests, your highness?” Kasamatsu always was a stickler for propriety.

He waved a careless hand. “It’s fine. They’re not here to see me, and Momoi has them dancing in the palm of her hand anyway. I’m just waiting for the waltz to start so I can get some fresh air.” It made a nice change to not be the centre of attention for once.

He didn’t miss the longing glance Kasamatsu directed at the princess, who was smiling beatifically at some rogue in blue. He cleared his throat as a distraction. “So when are we setting off to Fairnesse again?”

The captain snapped back to attention, intense gaze back. “Next week. The Sea Dancer will be fully repaired and restocked by then. Are you sure about the destination though? It seems a bit…risky.”

Kise’s eyes turned into pools of fiery gold, sharpening with anticipation. “You know me, Kasamatsu. A princess in a tower, guarded by a dragon? I can’t pass up a challenge like that. Besides, I’ve heard that Fairnesse has skilled duelists. Who knows what I may be able to learn…”

The prince trailed off as his gaze was caught by the new arrival. A young man about his age, tall and well-built with auburn hair, stumbled in through the French windows leading to the ballroom. The bewildered guest’s eyes widened as he took in the magnificence of the hall, candlelight glittering off crystal chandeliers and champagne flutes. He was stylishly dressed, Kise noted, but seemed strangely out-of-place.

Kasamatsu was also watching the red-head closely, but with suspicion rather than curiosity. They both had something of a shock when the young man in the black coat strode over to them.

“Excuse me,” he started hesitantly, “would you happen to know where the crown prince is?”

Kise gave Kasamatsu a sharp glance before the latter could slide his dagger from his sleeve. “I might. Can I ask why you are searching for the prince?”

The intriguing visitor flushed a charming shade of pink before explaining. “I err- I heard he’s looking for people to join his crew. I was hoping he’d let me prove my worth in a duel so I could join him on his journeys.”

Kise was instantly fascinated by this stranger. Someone who boldly set out in search of him, at a ball for the princess’ hand. It was bound to be interesting. “I could introduce you, but first things first. This is Kasamatsu, captain of the guard. If you can defeat him in a fair fight, I’ll consider letting you meet the prince.”

Kagami hesitated for a second longer and then nodded. The three of them made their way to a secluded corner of the garden, where Kise drew out his sword and handed it to Kagami, who warily tested the balance.

“Begin.”

A short while later, Kasamatsu was panting heavily on the floor, disarmed, and Kise was practically vibrating with excitement. He stepped in front of a slightly breathless Kagami.

“I’ve never seen someone like you. I need to know if I can mimic your moves. Have a match with me.”

Kagami frowned. “Look here, I thought you said-“

“Your highness! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A footman came running up, looking frazzled. “The king wants you to lead the first dance, as is custom. Please return to the ballroom, it is about to begin.”

Kise sighed and sheathed his saber. “Fine. I’ll be there shortly. Has my sister chosen her partner yet?”

“Yes, my lord. They are waiting for you now.”

Kagami tried to process the revelation of Kise’s identity and failed miserably. He had been babbling away and the prince had been right in front of him. All the clues had been right there. The air of unwavering confidence, the sharp perfection of his features, the famed topaz eyes. He’d been such an idiot. Kagami stiffened when Kise turned to regard him.

“I will have to ask you to wait a while. As promised, you will have an audience with the prince.” Kise’s wicked, knowing smile made his heart thump in surprise.

“Ahh, yes- I mean, your highness- of course, I’ll wait,” Kagami finished lamely. Kise’s smile widened and he sauntered away. Kasamatsu’s jaw was clenched, but he jerked his head at Kagami to follow and made his way to the ballroom.

Once inside, the captain began describing in curt detail the crew of the Sea Dancer. When he began talking about the talented navigator who had a taste for seal puns, Kagami thought it was high time he asked a vital question.    

“Wait,” he interrupted, “why are you telling me this?”

Kasamatsu’s eyebrow lifted. “Because I strongly suspect you’ll be part of the crew soon. I know the prince well enough to tell.”

Before Kagami could wrap his mind around this news, Kise finished the dance with a graceful flourish and spotted the two of them standing by the door. He walked over with a pink-haired girl in arm, who, Kagami realized in the nick of time, was the princess. Princess Momoi bestowed him with a smile as brilliant as her tiara as he bowed awkwardly.

Kagami looked up to see the prince regarding him with a searing intensity that was at odds with the blonde’s customary easy friendliness. His heart beat faster in response. Kise spoke, his mask of geniality back in place.

“I’m sorry I had to cut our conversation short. But as promised, here I am to give you an audience. So, did you say you wanted to join my crew?”

Kagami stammered, words tumbling over themselves in a rush. “Y-yes! I can duel, but also cook, and stitch- I make a good roast – and if you’d just let me join, I’ll show you I can be useful! Your highness!”

Kise’s answering laugh was infectiously boyish. “That’s great then! We need someone in the galley anyway. And Kise is fine. Only stiff ol’ Kasu here calls me by anything else.”

Momoi rolled her eyes. “That’s because you only look like a prince. We all know you don’t act like one.”

Kagami gulped, hardly able to believe his dreams were coming true. “Then, K-Kise, thank you. I’ll never forget your kindness, I promise.”

The heir to the throne grinned, as dazzling as his sister. “Then let’s shake on it. Though I must say, I don’t know many nobles like you that can cook.”

Kagami automatically grasped Kise’s outstretched hand, mind racing over a plausible explanation. “I- err-“

He was saved from having to reply when a distant clock began its inevitable chime, marking the end of the day. Kagami belatedly remembered he had somewhere else to be.

“Oh shoot, I have to go! I’m sorry, your highness, but I’ll see you later!” Kagami pivoted to run out of the castle.

Kise, in his surprise, gripped harder, instinctually preventing the escape. “But I don’t-“

Kagami, thrown into a complete panic, wrenched his hand out of Kise’s grip and sprinted out of the front doors into the night. The two royals and the captain watched him go with baffled expressions.

Momoi was the first to speak. “Well, I certainly hope my suitors never react that way to a handshake.”

Kasamatsu shook himself out of his daze. “Should I go after him, my prince?”

Kise wasn’t listening, gazing thoughtfully at the elegant red glove in his hand. It was still held lingering traces of Kagami’s warmth. Warm, like his passionate eyes and fiery hair.

“He never told me his name.”

XXX

Two days later, Kagami discovered that he hadn’t hidden his tracks as well as he’d thought. He walked into the kitchen and stopped abruptly when he saw Akashi’s back to him. Akashi turned around holding up a red glove, face unreadable. Kagami dropped the basket of laundry he had been carrying.

“How did you-“

“I don’t why you thought you could hide anything from me, Kagami. Especially after you made no effort to disguise yourself. It was obvious the person the prince was searching for was you.”

Kagami had two revelations at that moment. One, the prince was looking for him. And two, this was why he hadn’t had a spare minute since the ball. Akashi had deliberately been keeping him busy so he couldn’t leave. The anger fuelled him, gave him the strength to stand his ground.

“If you know about it, good. I’m done with this place. It may have been our family home, but there’s nothing left here for me anymore.”

Akashi’s lip curled in condescension. “I never said you could leave.” He flicked open a pocket-watch that shone with silver runes.

Kagami felt an abrupt, inexplicable weight pull on his limbs, dragging him to the ground. He fell to his knees, eyes widening in shock at Akashi’s cold expression. The other red-head slowly advanced until they were eye to eye.

“The prince’s men will be arriving soon in search of the mysterious stranger from the party. They will be looking for you, but you won’t be anywhere you can be seen. And then we’ll see how you plan to defy me again.”

Kagami wanted to growl in frustration, but the pull of the magic was too strong, tugging on him till his head was bowed. He wanted to rail against the injustice, this inevitable downturn of his fate yet again, but Akashi had already left, locking the only door. He crumpled to the ground, unable to hold himself up, and wondered if he’d ever be free.

He could hear the crunch of gravel as horses cantered up the driveway. There was a distant murmur of voices, one soft, one curt. Kagami resigned himself to the painful irony as Akashi denied his very existence and his only opportunity to escape slipped through his fingers. The fire crackled as the beautiful glove burned to ashes. Of course, this was when Kuroko reappeared.

“Giving up already? I’m disappointed in you, Kagami.” Kuroko shook his head reproachfully.

Kagami couldn’t summon up enough surprise to care. He glared at the unhelpful fairy. Kuroko blinked in belated realisation.

“Ah, give me a moment, I can try to undo this binding. I have a new wand now.” A shiny spell-casting device materialized. Kuroko laid a hand on Kagami’s forehead and began to replicate the locking runes in reverse. Two minutes later, Kagami gasped as the weight on his body disappeared.

The fairy looked paler than he already was. “Even with your latent power, that was a strong spell to overcome. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to deal with the door yourself.”

Kagami rolled up his sleeves and prepared to break down the door. “You did enough, Kuroko. Thanks.”

He rammed the heavy oak door with his shoulder, a loud thud resounding through the house. Again, and again, he put his shoulder to the wood until the weak hinges began to give way. Finally, the metal pins came apart with a screech and he tumbled forward into a group of surprised people. He looked up into a pair of keen golden eyes.

“Y-your highness?”

Kise smiled cheerfully as Kasamatsu huffed in relief. “There you are! I thought you were never going to make it on time! We leave in a few days, you know.”

Kagami glanced warily behind the prince, where Akashi was crushing a scroll in his fingers. “I got held up.”

Kise also gave Akashi a considering look. “So I see. Hyuuga, what is the punishment for obstructing and deceiving the crown?”

The chief of law enforcement didn’t miss a beat. “Incarceration, at the very least.”

Kagami had never been happier than when his step-father was dragged off with a thunderous look on his face. When he had finished packing up what few belongings he had, he went off to find a certain magical being. Kuroko was hovering outside, preparing to leave.

“Hey,” began Kagami. “Thanks again for everything. You saved me back there.”

Kuroko turned serious blue eyes to him. “I’m your guardian after all. This is the least I should do.”

Kagami ruffled his spiky hair nervously. “Yeah. What I was going to say though, was, maybe you should be a permanent guardian.”

Kuroko blinked in non-comprehension. “What?”

Kagami exhaled, trying to find the right words. “If you’re stronger around me, then maybe we should stick together. If you don’t mind the occasional life-threatening adventure, that is.”

There was moment of silence as the fairy digested this. Then he nodded. “I’d like that. Us as a team.”

Kagami grinned, relieved. Kuroko smiled back. “I will see you later, Kagami. I believe someone is waiting for you.”

He vanished in a slightly more attention catching blaze of light. Kagami was left to ponder his abrupt disappearance when a familiar voice sounded.

“Here, you forgot something at the ball.” Kise held out a red glove. “Strangely, it wouldn’t fit anybody else.”

Kagami slid the leather over his left hand and smiled. “That’s because it’s special.” He looked up at Kise. “Shall we get going, your highness?”

The prince tilted his head arrogantly. “I should be asking you that. Are you sure you can handle what’s ahead? And it’s Kise to you.”

Kagami could do anything, now that there was a future with friends and a leader as reckless as he was to look forward to. “Bring it on, Kise.”  

The world was a wide, wide place, after all.  

#cinderella retelling #fairytale au #kagami as cinderella #kiseki no sedai #generation of miracles #hint of kagakise #background kasamatsu x momoi #humour #kise is a pirate prince lol #i was not in my right mind #not even a yaoi shipper but this happened #akashi is still my bae #kuroko is everyone's fairy godmother