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lumine-no-hikari · 14 days ago

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #331

I woke up relatively early today. J had a dentist appointment. But yesterday, he had a COVID shot, and he was feeling really weird, both emotionally and physically, when he woke up. So I went along with him. It's relatively far away, and sometimes when his brain gets a little weird like this, it's best if he's not left to his own devices, or he'll start to feel disconnected from everything.

I got a couple neat pictures along the way...

We stopped for pizza afterwards. And then we went home. On the way, in one of the little patches of grass on the side of the road, I saw a skinny black stray cat. On the other side of the narrow patch of grass is a plaza with a bunch of different stores. It's not a safe place for a stray cat to be; not only are there far too many cars, but also, hawks hunt there; you can see them chilling out on the street lights during the day. So M and I tried to go back to see if maybe I could coax the cat into coming home with us...

...But it has a healthy mistrust of humans. That is good, because lots of people in my world really dislike black cats, and think that they're bad luck; it's ridiculous. Still others will be very mean to them, capture them and try to hurt them, and worse; it's too sad to talk about.

Despite being armed with catnip and very popular cat treats, the cat fled from me. I wonder if the thing to do is to get another humane trap, cover it in blankets, fill it with catnip, and check on it every several hours...

...It's getting colder outside. And it looked so thin... And is it spayed/neutered? I feel like I should at least do that much; it's better for the cat in the long term, even if it can't be properly socialized, and it'll prevent new kittens from being born into cold, starvation, and death.

...I'll talk to M and J about it. My brother asked to borrow my humane trap some time ago and an opportunity for him to give it back never arose, and likely never will. This isn't a problem, really. He can have it. I'll just get a new one, if M and J feel we can spare the resources for one.

...Cats shouldn't be homeless. They're not native to this continent; they're native to the deserts of Africa and Asia. They were brought to temperate environments by humans, where they wreak havoc on the populations of small birds and small mammals. Ultimately, it's not the cat's fault that it's in an environment that it wasn't built for; the blame for that goes back thousands of years. But I can do something in the now.

...Besides... I think it could get used to having a warm place to sleep, good food, and nice scritches, maybe! I'll see what M and J think about it tomorrow...

I went to my friend BB's house after that. We decided that once a week, there should be a “Get Stuff Done” day. The idea is that I go over to her house and help her get on top of things she had been putting off. Today, we went to the store and got her an angled broom and some bleach. Push brooms are nice for covering wide areas, but there are gaps in between the bristles and they're not very good for precision work (like sweeping corners) in the way that angled brooms are. And bleach is essential for getting grime out of places like sinks, tubs, and toilets; let diluted bleach sit long enough, and it'll do most of the work for you.

Once that was done, she swept N's study. I showed her how to bleach a sink. It's simple stuff; you just put a plug in the drain, pour in a little bleach in – enough to fill it up an inch or so (or 2-3cm) – and then fill it the rest of the way with very hot water. Let it sit for at least a half hour to allow the bleach to work its oxidizing magic on whatever gunk is in there, then pull the plug and scrub out whatever remains with a melamine foam pad, and you're good! We can clean a toilet in the same way! We got the sink cleaned up this way, and all 4 of her toilets look a lot better now, too!

I put on a playlist while we worked to help keep old memories from creep-creep-creepin' into my skull. Here's what I used this time:

Oh!! Right!! When working with bleach, make sure you use gloves that are meant for household cleaning. Bleach is a strong oxidizer, and it does not discriminate between sink gunk and human skin; the stuff is corrosive for this reason. Keep yourself safe.

We also reorganized her kitchen a little; some bottles and cans of juice and sodas that were out on the floor are now in a large cupboard that was mostly vacant except for a single small bottle of wine. The wine got moved elsewhere, and now the soft drinks live in the once-vacant cupboard. We threw out some things that needed to be thrown out, too, and moved some other things to more appropriate places. The whole area is a lot less cluttered now!

I also cut up a pile of plastic pack rings (these are used to bind together bottles or cans in groups of 4 or 6) that BB had been meaning to get to, but hadn't gotten to due to other stressors. It's important to cut them up before disposing of them, because if you don't, and if they happen to find their way out of waste management systems and into the wilds, an animal can get their head stuck in them, and then they die horribly. We want to try to avoid that.

...Ultimately, it'd be best if companies found a better way of binding their cans than those plastic rings, though...

We got quite a lot done in only a few hours! I'm looking forward to going back next week to see if I can help her with additional things!

I was pretty hungry by the time I got home, though, so I fixed myself a plate of various random things; want some?

I warmed up one of those pumpkin spice English muffins and spread some cream cheese on it! I got a few slices of ordinary lunch meat, too, and some apple pudding that J made, and some of the pumpkin seeds that I made not too long ago!

And I made another tea to go with it; hopefully the cream swirls are a little better this time, haha...

youtube

I changed out to my fourth set of braces after that. I'll show you the new ones as compared to the first; the first is on the left, and the fourth is on the right:

...It's starting to become a little easier to see the differences between the sets, at this point. Though, admittedly, this set doesn't seem to be fitting me quite right. It seems like there's a bit of space between the plastic liners and my actual teeth; I can feel it when I bite down. It's annoying, in the same way that it's annoying when your sock slides down in your shoe and bunches itself up into the arch of your foot.

...Hey Sephiroth? Has that ever happened to you? Like, your sock falling down in your big tall boots, and getting itself wedged awkwardly between the arch of your foot and the insole of your boot? How do you deal with that when it happens? Do you fix it right away, or do you just deal with it until you get home? And if you fix it right away... how do you do that? Because your boots don't look like they're easy to put on or take off. Or maybe, do you have extra special awesome socks that don't get bunched up to begin with? I wonder...

...I sent out a bunch of asks recently, trying to see some of people's favorite music. I've gotten a couple of responses so far!! I wanted to go through and listen to all the songs I got, but... it's getting pretty late. I have to try to get my butt in bed. So I think I'll do it tomorrow!! I'll make up a playlist full of the songs I got and everything! And I'll add to it as I receive more answers to my asks!

I'll get started on it tomorrow, after I call the orthodontist to make sure my current set of braces is fitting properly! And maybe I'll doodle while I listen, too! It'll be good!

Hey. I love you a whole lot, and I'm thinking kindly about you all the time. So please keep striving for that normal life. You can have it. You don't need to become a god in order to be loved. You don't need to break everything in order to find peace. All you have to do is improve your boundary skills, stay away from people who intend to hurt you, and improve your conflict resolution skills so you can come to a mutual understanding and find a wholesome solution when, inevitably, someone missteps and hurts you accidentally. Surely, these are achievable goals for someone as smart, brave, and adaptable as yourself, right?

Please stay safe out there. Don't throw your life away. I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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gggreengoblin · 9 months ago

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Cat Maxiel

(Maxiel as a pair of cats, okay. Please, if it's too weird for you just don't read it.)

Summary:: it was the day Max arrived at Daniel's house

It was like any other day, nothing weird happened at first. Early in the morning, he had woken Geri up for his breakfast. She had given him the tuna one, and it was okay-ish food.

Daniel had climbed on the kitchen counter and watched the family eat in silence. Nothing new. And then Christian went to work and the kids went to school. And then Geri had gone out for– he didn't know, for more food maybe.

And then she came back in the afternoon, while Daniel was napping beside the window, with a big white box that smelled funny.

“Danny!” She called for him.

With a big stretch and a yawn, Daniel stood up and ran to greet her in the living room.

“There you are, baby. Did you have a nice day?” She cooed while petting his back.

He meowed at her. He did have a nice day. He had his toys, a belly full of food, and a nice spot to nap and watch the bird outside. And a quiet house without the screaming kids? He got everything he needed.

He sniffed her palm and almost gagged. Where had she been? She smelled like other cats, MULTIPLE other cats. He stepped away and licked at his back fur to remove those smells from his body.

She put the box down in front of him and Daniel took a step closer. He sniffed at it a couple of times before meowing at Geri. Wondering what it is.

The box had holes in it. And it smelled weird, like a thousand scents stuck in it. And something was moving inside of it.

Crakk crakk

It sounded like claws.

It couldn't be.

How could she do this?

He couldn't help himself. He hissed at the box and the woman in front of him.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, baby.” She picked him up.

He squirmed until she put him down again.

“Danny, it's okay. It is just a small friend for you. So you won't get lonely. You will love him.”

No, he wouldn't love him. He didn't even want a friend. What is wrong with Geri? He felt hurt by this betrayal. He jumped on top of the coffee table. He needed some space from this traitor.

Geri sat on the floor and opened that box. The scent hit him first before the new cat jumped out of the box.

It was a young cat, not a kitten but not a grown-up cat either. A teenager maybe. He had spots on his fur. The new cat was full of spots where Daniel had none.

Did she want cat with spots? He couldn't grow spots.

Dang.

The new cat sniffed around and skittishly looked at his new surroundings before Geri picked him into her arms.

“This is Max. Your new brother.”

Brother? Daniel hissed.

“No? Okay then. A new friend, maybe?”

Daniel hissed again. Baring his fangs to Geri and the cat on her lap who was watching him with his unblinking eyes.

“Don't be mean, Danny. Max is a sweet boy. You will love him.”

He couldn't do it anymore. Daniel jumped down and ran to his hiding spot behind the sofa.

He closed his eyes again. He would fall asleep and when he woke up, the new cat would be gone.

#maxiel fic #maxiel #f1 rpf #my fic #Bengal!Max #Siamese!Daniel #Cat maxiel

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lady-corrine · 1 year ago

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Stefan found that this cuddly little kitten was also a very kissable young woman.

Bonnie's blood was sweet, tasting of honey and strawberries.

She shut her eyes and crossed her hands over her breast. A born actress and a coquette, if Damon had ever seen one.

Bonnie was surrounded by a roselike color, shading to the palest of pinks.

People forgot how old she really was and were always tempted to muss up her curls while saying that she really was charming and adorable and entirely forgetting that she was over eighteen.

Bonnie, delicate as a dragonfly.

The reason for Damon circling now was simple – he was hungry. He hadn’t been able to tap the little red songbird’s veins. She was just too young, too – innocent – for him to puncture her randomly like that.

Bonnie simply gazed up at Damon with her brown eyes wide and pleading in her small heart-shaped face. She looked like a picture on a Hallmark card, Elena thought. And those eyes of hers were worth a thousand logical arguments.

She spat out a mouthful and cried, “What’s going on?” in tones to melt a heart of stone. Which they did. Contemplating his bedraggled little bird, who was clutching the towel to her instinctively, with her fiery hair plastered to her head and her big brown eyes blinking between strands, something swelled in Damon.

She's unreal actually, she was too iconic and too pretty for that ugly show.

#she 🥺#lj smith said: the most precious baby ever 🥰#she's such a darling 😭💓#bonnie mccullough #book bonnie #tvd books #book bamon

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fun-n-fashion · 5 months ago

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mumblytron:

“but sex is what makes us human!”

in 1916 a French officer in his twenties writes his

doctoral dissertation under

heavy mortar fire.

he sends it by mail, a page

at a time, to his wife.

a week before he’s to step up to the podium and

defend his work rather than hiscountry

he is killed in action.

even as the bullets rip

through him he still wishes he could have become a professor

in French literature and

the university awards him a posthumous Ph.D.

sex is

a woman breaks down in tears on the phone because

a week is not enough time to

get over a breakup.

her sister drives an hour across town,

comes up the front steps with

a gallon of ice cream and somebeer

and together they eat moose tracks and marathon

every

single

Godzilla movie

ever made.

sex is

she’s late for work but her car isn’t

starting and even through her coat and hat she’s cold.

she knows she can’t be late again because she’s missed

one time too many already because her

father’s nurse was sick with the flu and someone

needed to help him bathe.

the clock ticks past fifteen after and she hits

the wheel like it’s a heavy bag as though that will help

steps on the gas like the car will go

and wonders how she will pay rent

and how she will feed her father.

sex is

it takes three people to hold the predator down because

even with the cover over his head

a bleeding eye and shattered wing

he is trying to hurt them.

none of them have seen this bird before in their lives but

they bandage his wing and head and give him a painkiller and

put him in a warm place to sleep and heal because

it is right.

at first he is paralyzed and cannot

fly but soon he is taking steps

and then fluttering, and then soaring, and

six months later he is whole and healed and hunting.

once he is gone they never see him again

which means they’ve done their jobs right.

sex is

in 1969 a girl watches grey-and-white footage on her parents�� tinytelevision and

can’t quite believe that what she is seeing is not a movie set but

another planet.

the men on the screen look a little like

aliens with bulbous heads and no faces and fat

marshmallow arms

but they are still men.

her mother puffs on a cigarette behind her and declares that

this is progress

even if it was just a small step.

the girl grows up to be not an astronaut but a secretary

and her boss calls her ‘sweetheart’.

but sex is

a boy is taught that real men don’t cry so

he doesn’t.

when his best friend dies from a self-inflicted

gunshot wound, he locks himself

in the shower every day and sobs under scalding

water until it runs cold

so nobody will see him grieving

so nobody will see that tears are just love that

has no place left to go.

he learns to dull love rather than suppress its expression and

soon the owner of the liquor store knows him by name.

three DUIs, two evictions, and twelve steps later,

he is feeding people at a homeless shelter,

and telling them it’s all right to cry.

Sex is

the broken man tells the comedian

that he didn’t mean to step in front of the car but the rain

made it hard to see.

he seems okay but his leg

does not.

the comedian clutches a grubby receipt with the driver’s

plate number scrawled on the back

in pink pen, stands out in the rain so the broken man

can have his umbrella,

and gives him the comedy routine that ruined his career

so the man doesn’t think about the pain in his leg.

once he’s out of the hospital, the fixed man sends him a thank-you card

with kittens on it.

what makes us human

yawning is contagious,

and there is a species of bird whose young we call “pufflings”.

melodic collections of sound, spaced by silence,

can move us to tears.

the tallest building in the world is

two-thousand seven-hundred and seventeen feet tall.

in less than eighty years we went from our first powered flight

to touching the moon,

and in one-hundred from the first phone call

to instantaneous connection between thinking machines of our own

creation.

we make pies out of tree organs

and let cow’s milk ferment until it hardens and then

we put them together, because apple pie with cheddar cheese is

delicious.

what makes us human is

the earliest

fossils of anatomically modern humans are

two-hundred

thousand years old .

we have had

pet dogs

for sixteen-thousand

of those years, longer

than corn

or the

wheel.

the steps we

take are part of

one of the

most energy-efficient gaits the

animal

kingdom has ever seen.

we invented

the concepts of love

and hate

and justice,

and mercy

and we

invented the language to convey them.

we sharpened

rocks, then metal, to convince other people

who don’t

hold the same idea of those things as we do

because we

think

it’s right.

we are two

hundred millennia of love and disappointment and

sorrow and

innovation and

mercy and kindness

and dreams

and failure

and

recovery.

but sex is what makes us human.

You're asexual? But...

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whitepolaris · 5 months ago

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Flying Jellyfish

Charles Fort, author and investigator of the odd, speculated that there was a species of nearly transparent jellyfish that float in the upper atmosphere. Over the years, pilots have reported seeing odd-shaped objects in the sky that they thought resembled jellyfish. And other people have found large numbers of dead birds with burn marks on them, which they believed could be caused by jellyfish stings.

This raises the question, If these creatures exist, then why aren't there more sightings? People who believe in sky jellyfish suggest they might have the ability to change color and blend in with the background, like an octopus. For those who want more proof, consider the little town of Oakville.

Oakville is located along U.S. Highway 12, between Elma and Rochester. Today about one thousand people live there, and it is known as being the site of both an annual zucchini festival and the last horseback bank robbery in Washington State. But it was a strange rain that made Oakville famous for a few weeks in August 1994.

That month bizarre happenings occurred twice. On August 7, Sunny Barcklift looked out through the rain at the black asphalt roof of a small shed on her property. She noticed it was covered with globules about the size of grains of rice. When she and others picked up some of the globs, they saw they were clear and had a jellyfishlike texture. Shortly after handling the material, however, suffering from fatigue and nausea. A few days later a kitten that had lived outside Barcklift's home died of a strange intestinal problem.

On August 16, another rainstorm brought more of the gelatinous globs to Oakville. The National Weather Service received a phone call from an unidentified man, who claimed something had rained down from the sky and burned a home through his children's outside trampoline. Fortunately, no one became ill.

A local doctor doubted the strange material caused any human illness and suggested the kitten drank some antifreeze, which killed it. Nonetheless, he had a lab examine samples of the blobs. The initial analysis suggested that they contained many different substances, including human white blood cells. The doctor thought they could have come from the waste fluid of an airplane toilet, which could explain the human cells as well as the antifreeze. However, airplane waste fluid is blue; the blobs were clear or white.

Health authorities had a second analysis done, and this time the lab reversed the initial finding of human white blood cells. Although there were living cells in the blobs, they had no nuclei as human cells do. That left investigators with an unidentified living material falling out of the sky.

Someone suggested a different theory. In August, the U.S. Air Force had conducted a series of live bombing exercises off the coast of Washington. Someone, no one seems to know who, suggested that bombs had exploded in the middle of schools of jellyfish, blowing them into bits and launching fragments into the atmosphere. The pieces were small enough to float along in the clouds until they came down in rainstorms.

Maybe the air force was to blame for the exploded jellyfish-but what about the crabs?

It was around this time that large numbers of dead crabs were found along the Washington coast, surrounded by small globs of jellyfishlike material. The couple who reported the dead crabs became ill after handling the material. But for this incident to be related to the Oakville globs, the material would have had to float for nearly two weeks, over a distance of seventy miles, from the bombing range to Oakville.

Conspiracy theorists suggested some form of germ warfare was the cause. In 1997, the show Unsolved Mysteries featured the Oakville rain and interviewed several residents who had experienced the weird phenomenon three years earlier. They reported that the strange rain fell six times (not just two), and that scientists found two different kinds of bacteria in the blobs. Several people mentioned seeing black helicopters flying over the area at the time. The show's host, Robert Stack, stopped short of suggesting the United States government deliberately sent helicopters to leave trails of toxic jelly blobs on Oakville.

Later in 1997, the city of Everett also had a mysterious rain of gelatinous blobs. Were these the same kinds of blobs that fell on Oakville, and could they be explained away as bomb testing or germ warfare conspiracies? We at Weird Washington personally like the idea of flying jellyfish going through some kind of spawning ritual high up in the earth's atmosphere.

#weird washington #type read

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thegnomelord · 1 year ago

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Okay okay okay this is good and you give me so much brainrot and plz continue—

What if your domain is the Consequence of War; the pain of inflicted wounds, the sorrow of weeping parents and friends, the cries of children stuck beneath rubble, the hate born from suffering, the decay of corpses piled sky high, the thousands of vermin getting drunk off rotting blood.

But for all you are, you abhor war. And the twisted hand of faith makes you grow strong for every battle you fail to stop, every lost life strengthening you. Your followers preach peace in times when war is profitable, but will easily slaughter those seeking to fill their coffers as they, just like you, are good. But not kind.

It's the reason you are all but forgotten, exchanged for bloodthirsty Ares or Ruthless Athena, when Price, a young Athenian man, stumbles into your temple after having washed ashore on a forgotten island. He had just been promoted captain, and on his very first voyage to provide back up for a larger fleet he'd lead his men into a Spartan ambush— into a massacre.

He stumbles into your shrine deep beneath the earth, unnerved by the souless stares of bleached white skulls lining the walls, weighed down further because he swears he can hear his crew's cries, their screams, their hate for him. Your altar calls for him, ancient offerings covered in cobwebs, and without thought he gives you his own — his helmet, his cracked shield, his dagger, the blood pouring from his cut open wrists, the frail whimper of forgiveness coming from his lips.

You answer, awakened by his blood, his pain, embracing him, letting him cry his heart out into your chest while you remake him into something new; a new body with the same face, the same scars, your ichor gilding the slashes on his wrists.

Price is still himself, still coos at small kittens and entertains children caught in the crossfire of a raging battle, for he is good. But not kind. You don't even need to utter a word for he understands what you need, sailing soldiers catch a glimpse of a black horse standing on water before their entire ship is pulled under by vengeful dead and devouring waves, leaving nothing behind. Whispers spread, witnesses talk, myths are born and cautionary tales are passed down of being weary of black horses near streams of water— ride it, and it'll pull you down to the depths, fetch water from the river it drinks and your entire cavalry will drop dead before morning.

Gaz comes next, sold into the Pharoah's army and forced into countless battles where he's tasked to enslave his own people. He tries to resist in the ways he can, though spooking horses and 'accidentally' breaking gear does little more than earn him a lashing. But he's heard the other soldiers tell tales of you and your servant, so when he catches sight of a black stallion drinking from a river when he's ordered to fetch water, he doesn't hesitate. Gaz is careful to approach the beast, but there's no fear in him as he softly brushes Price's fur, praising and cooing over the softness and how handsome he looks. Somehow Gaz can tell Price is amused when he buckets the water from the exact place Price had been drinking from, as if it would make the curse more potent.

Gaz doesn't wait for morning to see if it worked, but he knows it did when he's chased across the desert sands by angry soldiers on the few horses that hadn't dropped dead. He's caught, a rope thrown around his neck and half dead from suffocation when they drag him back to camp. He's not shown any mercy, stabbed full of holes for good measure before hung up on the side of a cliff for the birds to feed on, his blood and tears falling to the sands bellow where your hidden altar lies as he begs, for whoever will listen, for whoever cares, to not let him die like this, to give his death meaning.

Then the rope snaps, his body plummeting down, but before he can hit the ground he's caught by Price, who doesn't have to beg or even speak for you know what he needs. Kyle's soul is barely clinging to his body when you pull them both into your firm embrace, changing Kyle like you'd changed Price while they sleep like babes.

Kyle has a hard time wrapping his head around what happened when he wakes up, surrounded by warmth on all sides, your ichor hiding the dark bruises along his neck, realigning the displaced bones. He thinks he should panic when he sees a grizzled soldier sleeping near him, but the sensation of firm hands around his waist— so protective and safe— has his mind relaxing enough for you to explain what happened.

He takes his job seriously, as faithful and obedient as Price is. Gaz takes the form of an eagle, spreading disease with every flap of his wings; food rots, wounds get infected, water becomes undrinkable, bacteria permeate the air to leave soldiers as breathless as he had been. But despite the misery of soldiers the civilians caught in the crossfire remain healthy, even the most meager piece of grass sustaining them until the war's end. For Gaz may not be kind, but he is good.

By the time your eyes fall on another potential follower enough time has passed for mortals to misconstrue what your servants are, folk tales turning them into boogeymen and monsters. Ghost never believed those tales regardless of how many times his ma' tried to scare him into bed with them, after all, he lived in a small fishing village where even a trout was an occasional sight. No-one was surprised when he got press ganged onto a naval ship, and he had to swallow his words and do as he was told, not believing a single word he was told about how he was serving the king and blah blah blah.

They landed on foreign soil and the hate and disgust that had been slowly festering in him over the months long voyage became apperant when he was ordered to shoot at innocence people who refused to give up their land. Black powder and bile burned his throat with every person he shot down, barrels of blood poured over him until one day he couldn't take it anymore, hate— at his captain, at his soldiers, at himself— festering like a disease inside him.

While everyone was sleeping and he was on deck duty he rigged the ships cannons with every grain of gunpowder there was on the ship and the next time the captain ordered to fire on an innocent village— the ship went up in flames.

Ghost was flung into the ocean along with everyone else, washing up on the shore. He couldn't feel his face or his legs anymore, pooling blood turning the sand red, the adrenaline keeping his mind from realising he's dying. He stares up at the sky and laughs as best he can with his throat clogged with black powder, because it's what he deserves for what he did, for the death he failed to stop.

He doesn't notice when a man sits next to him until Price's gruff voice invades his ears, "Quite the light show." He says, smoking a pipe, brushing Simon's remaining hair out of his eyes, worried and proud all the same. "Would you do it again?"

And Simon says 'definitely', or tries to anyway, and that's all you need to pull him into your embrace, for your altar had long since stopped being a fixed place; every battlefield, every ruined town, every place of tragedy — that was your altar. And Simon had made a sufficient offering.

You remake his body to the best of your abilities, giving him a skull mask when he asks, and when not in the body of a man Ghost stalks soldiers as a massive mountain lion, the scent of gunpowder wherever he goes. He's not as magically strong as the other two, doesn't have to be when humans rely so strongly on their machines that a single malfunction can tlake out an entire platoon. A weapon jamming, a cask of gun powder exploding, a bullet ricocheting back at you, a blade snapping— debilitating an army by destroying their tools.

He's also increadibly viscous, taking note to stalk the soldier who's dumb enough to stray from their pack, appearing between the trees to stare them down like the apparition he is, only to dissapear when they blink. Even more tales spread, more gods are born and die, yet you and your servants remain the same.

Johnny has heard all the tales surrounding the harbingers of war by the time WW1 rolls around, a freshed faced coal miner's son he joins as a clay kicker, wishing to do something good with himself. He weathers the cold, the cramped conditions, the freezing water up to his knees, his friends getting injured, with a smile on his face, seemingly nothing able to break his spirit.

But things turn weird when he starts seeing things that shouldn't be there; a skull faced man staring at him from the darkness of the tunnel right before a support beam breaks, an eagle screeching a day before his friend gets a bad case of trench foot, a stuck up commander who executes scared soldiers riding off on a pitch black stallion never to be seen again. Johnny does his best to flip off the three harbingers of war when he has the chance, and you get a good laugh at the way Ghost acts so angry as if he's not enamoured by Soap's constant display of rudeness towards them.

Yet Johnny's lucky, always able to escape the disasters that befall his fellows. And every night he offers a small prayer for whoever will listen for the war to stop, because despite his demeanor he doesn't want war, doesn't want to see his friends dying.

Then one of them messes up. A battle buddy gets spooked by enemies digging near them and ignites the dynamite while Soap's still inside the tunnel. He ends up crushed beneath mountains of mud, but not enough to die quickly. Instead he suffocates slowly, body drenched in cold mud, mind swimming as oxygen depletes and all the while he's thinking of his ma' and pa' back home, of his siblings, of what will happen if Britain looses the war.

A hand punches through the mud, his eyes barely able to focus on the same skull masked man he'd been flipping the bird to for ages. Simon doesn't do any fanfare, just shoves Soap's freezing body into your waiting arms, right next to Price and Gaz.

It's impossible to think anyone would be able to sleep in the middle of no man's land, under the constant rain of shell fire and mustard gas. But you keep them safe and away from prying mortal eyes, changing Soap just like you had done with the rest.

Soap comes back as a large dog, paws and fur speckled with mud. Buildings and strongholds crumble when he comes near, sinkholes appearing in perfectly stable roads the second a vehicle drives over them, solid ground turning into knee deep mud to immobilise horses and carts and tanks. And when he's not causing havoc to both sides, he's guiding rescuers and pulling people out of rubble, letting little kids pet his fur and running circles around Ghost and stealing meat from butchers to give to starving families, for while he may not be nice, he is good.

As years pass and conflicts continue to rage, you and your harbingers continue to grow strong, becoming boogeymen and monsters to children and soldiers alike. Then a shaky peace arises, and you are able to settle down into a comfortable rest, holding your dear servants close to your chest and praising them for their hard work, rewarding them in any way they wish, war hardened bodies turning soft and pliant beneath your touch. . .

thinking about 141 except its a different time period and theyre soldiers fighting a pointless war. they get ambushed and run away jsut to collapse on the feet of a forgotten, nature-ridden altar and offer an item or 2 on the altar despite them not knowing who they are, and they beg whoever is listening to give them a death kinder than dying.

and they pass out except they hear your voice whispering in their voice, idk whats that all about, but you rip their souls out of their mortal body of a vessel and force them to be your personal guards/servants? idk

except i like the idea that they all died in different times lol

like ghost probably got half his face blown up and you blessed him with the skull mask bc idk its poetic, soap died from someones mistake, idk how gaz died but somehow he did probably from being hung n dragged around (this is a reference 2 him having fallen out of the helicopter 💀)

n price probably died by khs after he led his own men to death bc he was inexperienced or something idk

and i just think it'd be cool if you were a war deity, like perhaps not exactly the god of war, but a deity associated w war, and if 141 were basically seen as bad omens / evil spirits by mortals or something lol

basically, I'm going crazy and i NEED people to spam me about this and continue it or ill go blow my brains out

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funtimebunnyblog · 4 years ago

Note

How do you think the pillar men would react to a s/o who’s pretty innocent and a loveable ray of sunshine? Just the sweetest soul ever. Never having any ill intentions towards anyone ever, even if they’re mean to her. S/o has a lot of empathy and is just Disney princess level of kindness and nurturing. Sorry if that’s specific. I just always love the trope for couple that are opposites attract.

Did you mean: H O L L Y K U J O ???

Holly: Jotaro, make sure you eat all your vegetables 🥰 Jotaro: *is about to tell her to F*** off* All 4 of his new Pillarmen step-dads: 😡😡😡😡 Jotaro: *sweating* Yes Mom... 😰

I agree, dear Anon, I'm a bit of a sucker for big intimidating Pillarmen with a sweet little mate ❤❤❤ I'm even more of a sucker for writing it! 🥰😇😘 Please enjoy!

The Pillarmen (separate) with a sweet and nurturing s/o...

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• From the moment he first met you, your kindness was baffling to Kars.

• Even before you two had begun a proper relationship, he took notice that you were always dotting on him.

• Sometimes when he was up in his study, spending hours at his desk as he worked away at piles of paperwork, you would pop in to check up on him every so often with a mug of tea for him in hand; brewed hot and black with no sugar, just the way he liked it.

• Somehow you just always knew what he liked and how he liked it.

• You often brung along a comfortable blanket to drape over his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you asked him if he needed anything else and encouraged him to take a break if and when he needed it.

• Nothing prompted you do do these things, he never once asked you for anything really, but it seemed as if you went out of your way to show a little kindness every time.

• Kars knew himself to be a cold creature but you were a person who made his frosty heart thaw with the warmth you radiated.

• As a man who considered nature precious life, he found himself admiring how unbelievably good you were with Animals.

• In fact, they just seemed to flock to you!

• Once, when you both went to an Animal shelter to look for a pet to adopt, Kars turned his back for only a minute and came back to find that you had somehow coaxed the meanest and mangiest old cat there into your lap.

• The shelter workers stood there absolutely gobsmacked as they watched the animal, that had scratched and hissed at and bitten anyone and everyone who had even dared to come near it, cuddling in your arms and purring like a kitten.

• "Aren't you just the sweetest thing?~" You giggled, lovingly running a hand on the cats bristly old fur as it rumbled contently, its purr was like a running motor. "What a pretty kitty you are!"

• Kars could only smile softly to himself as you both left the shelter that day with the mean old cat you were still lovingly cradling in your arms.

• He had to admit, even though he was thousands of years old and an Ultimate lifeform; you somehow felt like you were much higher above him, like a benevolent and virtuous Queen.

Esidisi:

• Your sweet and motherly nature was the very first thing to make Esidisi absolutely head over heals for you.

• There were times you made his heart swell to the point of it hurting when he watched you waltz around the house, singing a happy tune as you did chores or cooked.

• Even though you knew he didn't necessarily need to eat, you always questioned if he was hungry and offered to make him food.

• And it was always delicious homemade food at that!

• You absolutely brought life to every room you passed through and it pulsed through everything you made.

• It was as if everything you touched left behind a little magic in his eyes.

• Once, when you two were still in the stages of getting to know one another, you happened to witness him have one of his crying fits for the first time.

• Esidisi had been very stressed that day and of course, it all overwhelmed him and came out in a flood of tears.

• Immediately, you dropped the laundry you were folding the second you heard him start to sob from the other room and ran to see what was going on.

• "Oh my goodness, what happened?" You questioned, coming towards him quickly.

• Even through his barrage of tears, he didn't miss the genuine concern in your voice and the worry etched into your face as you lowered yourself on your knees in front of him, taking his tearstreaked face gently into your hands.

• "Do you need a hug? We can hug!" You told him, opening your arms to him with no hesitation whatsoever as he struggled to get an explanation out through his bawling.

• The way you rubbed his back, crooning for him to take deep breaths, was something that would stay with him forever as usually people tended to just stand back and gawk at him when he was having a meltdown.

• You hardly even knew him and there you were, comforting him and letting him cry all over you as if you had known him your whole life!

• Each time he spent his evenings with his arms wrapped around you as you cooked supper, both of you singing, he was honestly starting to think he had fallen in love with a Goddess in disguise.

Wamuu:

• You were the only person in the world who could make Wamuu, the greatest and fiercest warrior who ever lived, turn into a shy and blushing mess.

• The way you gently touched his arm and smiled up into his face as you spoke to him, asking him if he was hungry or tired after a long day of training, never failed to make this hardened Pillarman turn to mush.

• Your voice was like music to his ears, as if your words always held a secret song.

• When you did things for him, no matter how small on your part, he could always tell it was done purely out of love.

• "I thought you would get cold going out this time of year, so I made you a scarf and mittens!" You said with a smile, presenting him with the hand-knitted treasures one cold winters day when he was getting ready to leave the house.

• Wamuu was never a person to wear clothes at all. In fact, he would never be cold or hot or uncomfortable in any climate in the slightest being an Ultimate lifeform.

• But still, he stared at the folded scarf and mitts with wide eyes, holding them in his hands like one would a baby bird.

• He had seen you knitting on the couch these past few nights, smiling softly to yourself as you hummed and put love in every stitch. He had honestly thought nothing of it at the time but now it all made sense.

• You had spent all your free time making these... just for him?

• From that moment on, whenever he and the other Pillarmen went outside in the snow (doing God-knows-what), you can bet that he was wearing that scarf and mittens.

• With nothing else but his loincloth, of course.

• When the others questioned him as to why he was wearing such ridiculous attire when he had no need for them, he simply stood there with his head held high; his scarf swaying in the wind as he clenched his mittened hands into fists at his sides.

• "With all due respect my Masters; my beloved bride made these for me." He said calmly, the corners of his lips quirking into a soft smile as their expressions morphed into ones of disbelief. "And believe me when I say that I cherish them as much as I cherish her."

• The warrior actually felt a little boost in his pride seeing the little gleam of jealousy in his companions' eyes at his words.

• It only fed his little ego more when he showed up one day with a new knitted hat with a fuzzy pom-pom on top and Esidisi actually cried and asked if you could make one for him too.

Santana:

• Santana had always rightfully believed that all Humans were the same; loud, annoying, primitive, cruel, dangerous...

• That was until he fell in love with you of course.

• You were a kind of Human he wasn't aware existed, a very soft and loving kind.

• You just seemed to radiate feelings that touched his very soul; like a bouncy ball of sunshine.

• If anyone had ever done something even borderline disrespectful to Santana, he wouldn't put hesitate them in their rightful place (in his stomach that was) but you on the other hand; you always brushed any rude behavior from another off with a smile.

• Always curious, Santana often found himself hanging around in the background, watching you carry out your housework routine.

• You didn't mind this of course, you always assured him that you liked his company.

• Sometimes you even lovingly referred to him as your shadow.

• "Would you like to help, Santana sweetie?" You asked him with a smile as you peered over your shoulder; you were rolling out and cutting homemade cookie dough to bake.

• He noticed you were always so patient, praising him for the littlest things; guiding his hands with the rolling pin, showing him how to flour the cutter and carefully peel away the outline of the shapes.

• "A star for my star," you beamed, holding up a warm star shaped sugar cookie for him to take when you had pulled them from the oven.

• He blinked as you waved the freshly baked cookie in his face, taking it carefully.

• A little smile curled around the pastry when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, thanking him for his help.

• You and only you could make him feel tingles from the insides out.

• One of his most favourite routines with you was when you sat on the couch on your phone or watching T.V at night; where you'd invite him to lay his head in your lap.

• Your melodic voice could only be compared to a Princess', your little fingers combing out the tangles of his thick red hair as you hummed to him or talked to him about his day before he was lulled to sleep by it all.

• Your sweetness, your warmth, your empathy; it gave him a hope for Humanity he never had before he met you...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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capt-spooki3 · 4 years ago

Text

Sunsets Never Felt The Same...

Pairing: c!Wilbur Soot x Reader

Warnings: Angst. There will be feels in this, just wait for it. BUT THERE IS A LOT OF FLUFF TOO

After a long day, Wilbur gets to watch the sunset with his favorite person though neither of them knew how that day would change them forever...

2.5k words

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The soft padding of footsteps sounded on the chilled stone walkways that connected a few of the small houses in L’manburg. Even with the promise of war on the horizon and dangerous tension in the air, the evening is quiet, the only noises being the hoot of an owl or frogs down by the waters near the homes. Despite all that hung in the balance, it felt peaceful. The evening giving a false sense of things being perfectly fine.

Wilbur strode over the stone, his L’manburg suit being retired for the evening and replaced with a dark shirt and pants though he neglected to put on shoes. It seemed unnecessary as it wasn’t like he was walking a mile. Though with contacts out for the night, he made sure to grab his glasses.

He took a deep breath in, taking in the refreshing night air, and sighed. A smile crossed his lips and he chuckled, looking aside to the horizon that was painted with soft colors. Blues and pinks fading into purple around the setting sun while the rest of the sky was a deep and dark blue, littered with thousands of stars that were becoming more and more vibrant as the seconds ticked on and the sky darkened evermore.

“Oh, hey Wilbur.” A quiet voice spoke, catching his attention as he looked over. Just the person he was on a mission to see. Y/n sat on the top step of their small porch, dressed in a hoodie a size or two too big and shorts. It was a nice night for late September so he couldn’t really blame them for that choice. “What are you doing wanderin’ around?”

“I just so happened to be seeking some company,” He tilted his head quizzically at them, holding his hands loosely behind his back. “Mind if I sit?”

They perked up and scooted to the side from the middle of the step and patted the wood beside them. “Of course, come on.”

He walked over, climbing a couple of stairs before taking a seat on the other side of the step, making sure to give them room even with the urge in him to sit closer. Even if it was just a couple of inches.

“It’s a nice night, perfect for watching the sun set I'd say. It won’t be long till I have to start bringing a blanket out with me though.” They giggled, seeming excited to do so instead of seeing the extra work as a burden. Wilbur looked at them as they gazed at the sky, his heart-melting with their giggle and own gaze softening just looking at them. The way the evening light from the setting sun bathed their skin oh so gently. The only better sight is seeing them in the early morning glow, never had he thought he could describe someone as ethereal before, but it was truly amazing how captivating it made them look.

“Will?” He turned away right as they looked at him, cheeks warming with slight embarrassment.

“I-I’m sorry I guess I zoned out. Were you talking?” He glanced at them again, meeting their curious eyes for a moment before looking back to the now purple sky surrounding the nearly fully set sun.

“I just asked if you were okay. I can imagine you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Even not being your right-hand man in this war, I know it weighs a lot on the mind even as a soldier.” They said with a cute sort of fondness mixed with worry.

“You’ve got the right idea that’s for sure.” He let out a breathy laugh, turning to them. “It has been rough, I will be honest with you. I haven’t been the best but…” He trailed off, their gazes were locked. The world seemed unreal around them, every issue in his life left his mind as he let all of his focus revolve around the lovely person by his side. Even as they shifted nervously with his eyes on them for so long and their cheeks reddening a tad, he felt more at ease than he had in months. “Right now, I feel on top of the world.”

Y/n laughed, they were so easy to fluster it seemed.

“You really are one for the dramatics aren’t you Wilby.” Their eyes lingered on him a bit longer as they started to change their position, moving a bit closer to him as they pulled their legs up to their chest and looked at the stars that had started to litter the sky in front of them in place of the sun.

He was about to shoot them a response, till he heard distance honking and looked to the other end of the sky, barely making out a flock of geese. Silence fell over both of them as they listened to the nostalgic calls of the birds overhead that filled the two with a deep sense of calm.

The peacefulness of the moment they were sharing felt almost romantic, something you couldn’t experience with just anyone, and right now he, at least, wished to spend it with only them. Silent wishes filled his thoughts that they felt the same.

“Yeah? Well maybe I am… you sure seem to like it though, so I would say that’s okay.” His voice held a teasing note in it and he leaned back to rest his hands on the porch behind him, taking in and letting out a deep breath.

“I think you’re really lovely-”

“I like you a lot Wilbur-”

The two said at the same time, looking at each other in surprise before Y/n couldn’t contain their laughter, and Wilbur quickly followed after in a spurt of laughter. It took a few moments for them to calm down and catch their breaths to which, with a few giggles in between some of their words, started up again.

“Okay okay- I’m sorry, you go first.”

“I-” He giggled a bit, “I, I think you’re very lovely.” He said wholeheartedly, looking at him with a smile, and pointed to them to tell them to go next.

“Okay… I like you a lot… Wilbur.” They got out, shyly, growing visibly nervous as they fiddled with their hands and letting their gaze float around. Gods did he truly adore them and hearing that filled him with bittersweet happiness.

You see, Sally hadn’t been gone long, so confessions of love always brought him back to moments of her. He shook the thought from his head, he shouldn’t dwell on someone who wasn’t going to return to him and he knew she would want him to do this.

For himself. For his happiness, no matter how short-lived it might be.

“Would it be too straightforward to tell you I was deeply in love with you? That I see you as the bright and forever shining sun in the sky? That to me, looking into your eyes has felt more magical than anything this crazy world had provided or thrown our way?” Wilbur shifted his body toward them, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees.

“What if I told you that nearly every waking moment since I realized my own infatuation, I have thought about you. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve screwed up because I was so wrapped up in my thoughts. Oh god and the hours at night that all I want is to get up and walk to your door and just hug you. Wrap you in my arms and never let you go.” He sighed, chuckling a little at Y/n’s baffled expression, and smiled. Wilbur reached out and ran the back of his fingers over their cheek and moved a little bit of hair behind their ear.

“That wouldn’t be… too straight forward would it?” He whispered, treasuring the way their head tilted toward where his hand was lingering before they reached up to press his palm to their cheek and gaze at him with a loving look that just turned him into an absolutely lovesick fool for them.

“No… I don’t think so. I think you said just the right words.” Their words clung to him, immediately replaying themselves over and over in his mind.

He moved closer to them so his leg was touching theirs as they were now crossed and facing him. Leaning himself forward, watching them as they watched him right back, but he scrunched his face up a little. Wilbur reached up and pulled his glasses off his face, now that they were so close he wanted to really look at them and see their face without needing help from contacts or lenses. He let them spill out of his hand to the wood beside him.

“You wouldn’t...mind if I kissed you right now, would you?” Y/n whispered.

“God, please do.”

They giggled at his quick response, taking their hand off his and in return cupping his face to which he moved his hand to their upper arm, holding his breath in anticipation with his eyes closed. But they didn’t move. He opened his eyes to see them smiling at him like he was a little kitten.

“W-What?”

“You are so cute.” They said before closing the distance and pressing a sweet kiss against his lips to which he kissed back eagerly. This sweet form of intimacy was one he missed most of all after losing Sally. He never imagined being able to feel something like this for a long time, the moment they kissed him though, he could feel all tension just fall from his body as he melted into them. His arms wrapped down around their waist and they moved on hand from his cheek to put around his neck.

Wilbur didn’t want to admit it, but finally feeling this comfort and affection after bottling up so many feelings day after day, it seemed to really get to him as he felt a tear roll down his cheek and Y/n pulled away quickly to look at him, obviously concerned.

“Will are you okay? What’s wro-”

“I’m okay… I-I’m… this is just so nice.”

“Aw...Will…” Y/n wiped away the tear with their thumb, making him chuckle a little and he kissed them again, letting the entirety of them fill his senses. The moment felt so perfect, like nothing in the world could ruin it.

“Pfft- eyy get a room, Wilbur!!” Tommy’s voice rang out causing Wilbur to pull away and look toward the voice.

It seemed Tommy and Tubbo wanted to take a late-night walk.

He felt his face heat up in embarrassment and Y/n bury their face in his chest, seemingly just as embarrassed

“T-Tommy- man what the hell?!” Tommy cackled and leaned over, whispering something to Tubbo and gesturing over to the two, making Tubbo laugh.

“Hey have a good night, don’t keep them up too late tonight!” Tommy teased right before the two picked up their pace, running off. He was going to shout something at him but decided to let him go with just an unamused sigh.

Y/n giggled though at the boys and he looked down to look at them to which they wrapped their arms around him.

“It is kinda late you know.”

“Oh- right I’m sorry you're probably tired. I’ll go okay?” He spoke softly and they let go of him to look at him.

“Actually… could you stay?”

Wilbur went silent for a few moments before smiling. “Now that is pretty forward.” He teased, referencing his earlier words, and they immediately flushed a bit.

“N-No no I didn’t mean- no i just…” They trailed off, too embarrassed to continue and he just chuckled, kissing their forehead.

“I know, it’s okay sunshine. I’ll stay for tonight if it'll make you happy.” He reached over to where he haphazardly dumped his glasses on the porch beside him. “Y/n… I hope you know that I love you so much. You really are incredible.”

“Wilbur!” Y/n yelled at him, catching him right as he jumped down from the wall at the lowest point. He didn’t expect anyone to see him especially with the commotion going on inside.

“You need to go, I have places to be.” Being so cold to them hurt, but he didn’t have time to be nice.

“Will…” They cried and stepped toward him, his face softened and he smiled. He laughed. His shoulders shook and he lowered his head, hands in his pockets.

He removed his hands and strode toward Y/n with a walk and pace that made them back up, but not fast enough to get away from him as he was already right in front of them. He left nearly no space as his gloved hands cupped their cheeks firmly, but still with a fond gentleness. A slow, excited, shaky breath left his lips and he laughed softly before he took a deep breath. His eyes met their’s, the sweetness was there but the crazed glint was evident and the sight made them tense up.

“I know no one else saw this coming and to everyone else, what is to come may be considered a tragedy, but darling,

My sun,

My beautiful sunflower among fields of roses,

This was the fate of this country. This was my destiny.”

He glanced toward the walls as a firework shot, screams for Tubbo following after and Y/n watched in fear, but he turned their face back toward him. He pulled their face to him, though the action was gentle, and he pressed his lips to theirs. Tears spilled over their cheeks and upon feeling them on his hands he pulled away just to get pulled right back by them. It was almost as they were desperately trying to block out the cries and shouts by kissing him.

Wilbur forced himself away, needing to get to the final control room, and stared at them with their vulnerable expression.

“Don’t mourn me, my love, don’t cry. This is how the world was bound to end up so don’t wish for a different future.

I do not regret any of my decisions leading up to this point." He sounded excited.

"Even now, my marvelous star, I do not feel the wish to redo a single action of mine that made this future possible.

I need you to live your life and live it well. Know I will be with you in spirit, I will never be gone so do not miss me.”

With a final kiss and a message whispered in their ear, he was gone.

Y/n didn't dare move from the spot Wilbur abandoned them in. Fear froze them for they didn't know what he had planned. Many minutes passed before the first explosion rang out.

They stood, facing the wall of their country, the one they fought so hard to defend, as the TNT blasted rubble and dust their way while all they could do was watch. They fell to their knees, being shown the remnants of their precious country as Wilbur’s whispered words rang clear in their mind again. The tears spilled down their cheeks endlessly, not wanting to believe what he had done.

“Just enjoy the show, darling, as it is for you.”

It seemed he really was the dramatic type...

#wilbur soot #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fanfiction #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader

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riddlecrux · 4 years ago

Text

Historical AU

Day 7 of Elriel Month!

Summary: Blue and violet material rustled as she stared at three stars and three mountain peaks which sparkled in the daylight. The place that called her home. Velaris knights galloped through the forest with grace and dignity. At the front of the formation, she spotted him. Note: This is a snippet of my upcoming multi chapter Medieval AU Elriel fanfic!

There was talk in the town.

A gossip about one particular knight was spreading among ladies like a wildfire, fast and unforgiving. Whenever she went out, for a trip to the market or tailor, the words were often hushed and clipped. As if saying them outright and loud would bring the said person stumbling through the door - unannounced and feared. It was as if a shadow of a knight lived among the elites, constantly watching their lips, ready to strike from the darkest parts of the room. She had thought that gossiping was a rather boring thing to do, especially during the daytime - she much preferred spending her free time gardening and walking through the nearby forest.

The solitude she yearned for was always waiting for her, embracing her in silence and wisps of spring wind. A book under her arm, the hem of her skirt tucked between her fingers as she moved through the green maze with a blush covering her pale skin. It was something completely different from the small, claustrophobic ballrooms filled with perfumed guests and men trying to catch themselves a woman, a wife, a person that they were going to tame. A woman, later barely a doll. Empty shell filled with her husband's desires, placid and neat. Never free, never wild - an object that men love to present as a trophy.

Elain huffed, long steps halting as golden brown tresses slipped from her modest braid - her blue dress wrinkled and dirty, the mud sprinkled even her undergarments as she maneuvered through the forest road. She glanced behind her, a nervous tick, and with a soft frown on her forehead, she leaned against the rough tree. Few flowers slipped from her hand as she closed her eyes, breathing the scent of nature which coaxed her troubled mind.

She knew that the day would come, sooner or later - she prayed that her resolve and kindness would prevent her from marriage without love but naive as she was she knew that it was only a matter of time before her mother chose her a fiancé. Preferably rich one, from a distinguished family with a house close to the city market and church. Those arguments were vain and so ill-matched in Elain's opinion. She didn't care for money; she wanted to be loved. More than anything else she wanted to be chosen because of her personality - not too extravagant, timid, and simple as her father once said. Nesta always had a spark in her, steel that made men tremble before her, a woman made for a king or a duke. Her older sister was always the example of everything Elain wasn't, yet the day before Nesta's arranged marriage it was her older, wiser, dutiful sister that ran away - leaving a letter in which she chose love over duty.

I do not wish to be shackled by a man that does not deserve me. Women are much more than cattle you breed to sell. I part with a heavy heart, not because of my decision but because of the future of my sisters.

Elain had read the letter thousands of times, tracing letters with her fingers - remembering Nesta's coldness and silent form of love. She envied her older sister. If she was more courageous, less soft she would, perhaps, repeat her sister's steps.

Sighing through her parted lips her head hit the tree behind her. I do not wish to be shackled by a man that does not deserve me. She murmured under her breath like a prayer staring at the empty road that led to her little town. Gripping the old book by its edges Elain willed herself to pray. Pray that the man her mother had chosen would not like her. Pray that her resolve would show her the correct way, an answer to her broken promise. Pray that…

Her eyes opened at the sound of horses coming down the road. Glancing behind her cover she saw four riders, all dressed in black robes - all of them being knights. Her grip on the branch tightened as her mouth parted once again at the sight of a very well-known flag that was flowing in the air behind them. Blue and violet material rustled as she stared at three stars and three mountain peaks which sparkled in the daylight. The place that called her home. Velaris knights galloped through the forest with grace and dignity. At the front of the formation, she spotted him.

A knight dressed in black armor, iron spikes coming from his shoulder pads, and even sharper ones adorning his helmet. His gauntlets tightly clenched around his horse’s harness, dark and utterly beautiful. The breastplate was wide and devoid of any ornaments safe for three stars on each side of his armor. On his left side an extraordinary sword. Its majestic hilt covered in small, blue gems which were reflecting sunshine as he moved on the massive, gorgeous stallion. It was her gasp that made him snap his neck in her direction - she quickly scrambled and hid behind the tree wishing that he hadn't seen her. As the sounds of hooves started to ease with their every step, Elain slowly crept from her hiding position. Her heart beating so loud that the bird sitting on one of the branches fled from its resting spot.

The talk of the town - The Scarred Knight, came just in time for the tournament.

3 YEARS EARLIER

The summer was hot and stuffy.

Elain shot a quick glance behind her shoulder as she ran through the crowded streets of the town. She could hear Lucien's screams and his brothers’ laughter, however, she didn't stop. Her feet adorned with leather booties moved even faster, as long as she lost the gingers she would be safe. She turned right, stumbled because of the moving wagon, and sprinted towards cathedral alley - people were staggering when she turned in another street, her hair falling from her up-do in waves of molten gold. The freedom in her lungs was addictive. She felt like a bird, freed from its beautiful cage that it was trapped in for its whole life.

Her feet hit the muddy ground as she scanned moving peasants and with a resolution on her delicate features, she whirled around and ran straight towards the training grounds. One step, two steps...

She gasped when she collided with a solid body, her feet getting caught in the lace of her dress, making her fall on her backside with a loud thud. Her forehead was hurting and she could swear that the world around her wavered as she finally decided to glance at the reason for her fall. It was a knight, a tall and very deadly one. His violet eyes scanned her for injuries and with a slow sigh, he presented her a gloved hand.

"My lady," his sensual voice rang in her ears as she gracefully - at least she hoped so, gripped his fingers and stood up. Her beige dress was dirty and ruffled at its edges. Her mother would have scolded her till her calves were raw from the beating. The sight of her so utterly ungracious and dishonorable would shake her so much that Elain would have had to beg her on her knees to stop. Nevertheless, as she looked at her skirt she saw few droplets of blood and with a frown, she deduced that she, in fact, sliced her palm when she tried not to stumble.

Snapping her attention back to the knight in front of her, she slowly bowed and smiled. Her curls created a halo around her heart-shaped face when she finally looked him straight in his eyes. He was tall, well built and had brown skin. It was a beautiful color, she mused trying not to think how handsome he was.

"Sir Knight, pardon my intrusion," she cocked her head as another knight appeared in her peripheral vision. He was even taller and bigger than the one from before. His long hair flew on wisps of wind as he chuckled seeing her state and dirt on her dress. One dark brow rose with a flicker of amusement in his bright eyes.

"It's a rather peculiar sight to behold," he murmured as another wave of deep laughter erupted from his throat. She could feel redness coming up on her cheeks and with a swift movement, she ducked her chin down. Her mother would have simply perished if she saw her right now. What a disgrace for her perfect family.

"Cassian, the lady is hurt," she still didn't dare to look up, and when the newcomer left as quickly as he appeared she stole a small glance in the direction of soft sounds.

On her right, the training grounds were almost empty safe for a knight in black armor, kneeling on the ground. His hands were bare and visible to her eyes - scars, horrible and painful ones adoring his long fingers and gentle palms were a stark contrast to his dark attire. However, what caught her initial attention was the way he was slowly but surely trying to feed a stray kitten that aimlessly wandered here. His kneeling person, sharp against the tiny creature barely visible to the human eye. Two oddities coexisting in that nanosecond of time seemed to stop for her as she devoured the sight of this blindingly pure kindness.

"My lady," she heard the other man from somewhere far away. Her tunnel vision focused on that one person, his act of gentleness amidst the blazing sunlight, and… the way his scarred fingers were trembling while he placed all of his weight on his knees. As if he was scared and ashamed of their appearance, even before that small animal hissing in his direction. "My lady?" Her doe eyes found violet ones and with a soft gasp, she came to her senses.

"Please do forgive me for my ignorance," her voice shook and she hated herself for that. For that slight hint of distress slipping through the cracks of her perfectly molded mask of courtesy. The knight rose a dark brow and with frivolous joy watched her behavior as if he had solved a mysterious puzzle. Deep down in her chest, her heart sang an unknown song that made her spiral even further into herself.

"Azriel!" A sharp command slashed the air as she whipped her head at the source of that loud noise. The violet-eyed knight bowed elegantly as the kneeling man slowly stood up, even taller than previously acquainted knights, and slowly made a way towards them. His armor was loud, yet mesmerizing - she felt her bloodstream tickle, surge as the earth shattered under her legs with the force of warmth and longing she suddenly felt. An intake of breath caught in her lungs made her frozen as foreign yet so well-known hazel eyes stopped on her person. As if she had dreamt about them, as if they were forever imprinted inside her like a burst of thousands of stars. The slits in his helmet allowed her to see his long eyelashes, dark and dangerous, as he inclined his greetings.

"Sir Knight," she breathed out, like a bird singing for its designed mate. The knight's burning gaze left her shaking - as if her soul suddenly came down on earth and wished for a moment of utmost closure.

"The lady is hurt," the shorter one supplied glancing between both of them with a smirk. "Please attend her while I gather supplies," and with a swift nod, he left both of them alone. She supposed that time became only a fraction of surrounding her world when Azriel only stared at her, his scarred hands tucked behind him as if the sight of them might have somehow offended her.

"Sir Knight," her lips parted with a silent echo of yearning. "You have truly beautiful hands," his eyes widened, a golden hue covering his irises as his armor rumpled with the stretch of his muscles.

"It's a far-fetched compliment, my lady, yet I'm declaring my thanks," he blinked as she fought with an overwhelming feeling dancing in her chest. He was so close to her and yet she felt as if he was a whole ocean away. Maybe her soul, the one who often whispered in her ear about soulmates, tricked her and made her a fool. Maybe because of that she wanted to say something, anything that could last - to make him remember her, a wild girl with flowers in her hair.

"It's not," she urged and let herself smile. "For what I have seen, Sir, you are gentle-natured," a gust of wind ruffled her tresses and when she tried to fight with them, scarred digits arrived next to her ear.

"And you, my lady, are indisputably a spring ready to conquer the already fading winter," he whispered urgently. Her heart trembled at his words, it was as if he had spoken to her spirit, to the gaping wound of her hidden longings and dreams. As if he had known her, right now and all these centuries before. The time was crashing into her like waves of that unknown feeling that overcame her, however before she could answer the loud yell of her name startled her like a deer.

"I must," her ragged breathing stopped when she saw red-haired men stumbling onto training grounds. Wide-eyed and breathless she stole the last glance at her starry-eyed soulmate and turned around. Even if all laws of this world told her to stay, screamed at her to turn around to see the universe crashing inside those hazel eyes, she didn't.

She left him there, a tray of sunlight and starlight glittering behind her as he watched her till she became only a speck of dust in the blazing heat.

#elrielmonth #elrielmonth21 #elriel #pro elriel #elriel fic #elain x azriel #azriel and elain

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egittae · 7 months ago

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It felt unreal. He felt unreal, nothing made sense.

"Dimitri..."

The logic part of his mind refused to believe in any of this. This couldn’t be his child, this was the prince of Faerghus and the prince’s father has been dead for years now. The dead can’t be brought back- there’s no possible logical explanation for him to be this boy’s father.

And yet, his heart knew. The same way an emperor penguin managed to find its young among thousand others that look exactly like it, his heart was sure that this was it. His memories felt scattered and blurry, names and faces and everything else still lost- except for this one. It felt almost freaky, reading a book in which all of its pages are stained and blurry, but every now and then the same word always appears in high definition against all else.

Yes, he could make assumptions based on this one truth. If anything the objective he sought was sitting right in front of him, ready for him to face it.

But he wasn’t ready, was he? Even if it was obvious, his mind failed to accept it. Without the memories to back up his claims- to give him a base to stand on, he couldn’t face it. He’d feel as if he had been living a lie, a life he didn’t believe in with a past he couldn’t give details on. It was stupid, it didn’t make sense, none of this did.

How unfortunate it was, that the heart is anything but logical.

The sound of glass shattering below them only caused Lambert to breathe in through clenched teeth, eyes flickering to his extended hand for a moment. What to do? How can he be sure? He needed evidence, any kind of evidence to hold on to- because if it turns out he had been wrong…he didn’t even want to imagine the heartbreak that would take over that boy. “A…wait…wait.” He stopped for a moment.

That stupid crest. The prince…had one, right?

Lambert opened his mouth for a second, then reconsidered his words before trying again. “I…will show you something. Simply tell me if it is a match, or not.” That stupid crest that caused him so much stress and pain in one night. Lambert knew that the royal family of Faerghus had a crest of their own, Linhardt bothered him relentlessly about it. All he had to do was check if it was the same.

Ursa Major and Ursa Minor came in a pair. So their stars should too align.

He knew that people with crests could manifest them, much like how a major presents their medals. Lambert…had never done this before, at least not that he can recall, so he didn’t even know how to conjure the thing in the first place. A moment of silence took place as he slowly opened his hand, moving gently as if trying to coax a small bird into perching on his palm. Blond brows furrowed in concentration, his mind trying to call for something without knowing its name until something flickered.

There was no rush of magic from a casted spell, but instead a blossom of energy. Small, feeble, flickering above his palm like the first snowflake of winter sat a blue crest shaped like a star. It was ridiculous how something that looked so fragile had managed to set his body ablaze moments earlier, if anything only making the whole thing scarier and more troublesome to think about- but that wasn’t the point now.

Lambert looked at Dimitri, gaze sitting between hopeful and terrified.

Though the mountain’s blizzard hoped to sweep him off his feet, for once that damned star was of help. It lit his way through rock and ice, and so Lambert kept going.

"Which one...is this?" Is this yours? Does the blood that run in my veins races through yours as well?

He wanted to be sure- he needed to. His brain needed to, because his heart knew. His heart remembers the feeling of holding that child when he was small anough to fit in his arms perfectly, pink and wailing like the angriest kitten. His heart remembers the sound of his voice and the warmth from when that tiny hand first gripped his index finger. Oh how it remembers- even if the memories weren't there yet, it remembers.

It remembers the look of terror and pain in those blue eyes before everything went dark, even under his brain's valiant attempts to block it all in rapid damage control.

@blaiddllodi

lambasted. haha, get it?

#lambasted haha get it? thread #[support] dimitri #toaball2024

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 22

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: FLUFF! Inappropriate jokes! The team being a family of mother hens. Steve + WAP! Reader's old man fetish is ✨blossoming✨. Stephen is finally evolving from Grinch into a human being.

a/n: How do we feel about Wanda/Loki pairing? Loki is comparatively around Wanda's/Reader's/Pietro's age, e.g. he's a young adult. Also, new divider.

All three of us spilled out of the elevator in a flurry of wet hair, outrageously large shopping bags and the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon-infused chocolate. Picture perfect friends - our arms were linked, we stood side to side, our bags mixed up. Loki's silky black hair was dripping cold water onto my face and my own clothes sticking to me in uncomfortable places.

It started pouring buckets when we got into my car to go back to the tower. Wanda complained about being hungry and after a brief detour in one of the hole-in-the-wall, hidden gem, French boulangeries, all three of us were pleasantly relaxed and companionable under the influence of hot chocolate and fresh, warm croissants (Loki ate, like, ten, royal manners be damned). The five minute run from the parking lot to the main entrance resulted in us being way too soaked to be comfortable - thankfully, the shopping bags seemed to be waterproof. Or, perhaps, Loki enchanted them somehow.

"Stop fucking cheating, Rogers..." Tony was grumbling in frustration, looking at an array of cards in his hands, squinting suspiciously at a smug Steve.

Noticing us, the room perked up immediately. Thor lifted his head and we saw him and Pietro splayed out on the couch, each male holding a play station controller. Stephen Strange was sat cross-legged on the floor, reading a book, while Natasha filed her nails next to him, a face of tranquility and indifference.

We almost backpedaled from the amount of puppy eyes suddenly gazing at us.

"Sup?" I decided to go first, seeing as both of my companions were still mostly confused. What the hell, I was equally perplexed.

"How was your day, brother?" and "Got yourself a nice dress?" and "Marchesa? Not bad." Were the most intelligible words I could make out of the cacophony that descended upon us.

And it suddenly downed on me. Neither Wanda nor Loki had previously left for the city on their own. Their siblings were worried. I sighed, concealing my happiness behind a quiet complaint of being cold and wet. My bags were picked up by Thor who abandoned his game in favour of greeting his brother with a hug. Surprisingly, Loki didn't refuse and let Thor embrace him and relieve us of our items to deposit them out of the way.

"Cold," Wanda whined, stripping off her damp sweater to reveal simple black leggings and tee underneath.

"Wet," Loki mumbled, gathering a ball of green magic to dry out his dripping hair.

"Gross," I said, walking straight into Tony's open arms. He didn't say anything, just indicated my place was in his lap, squeaking and shivering as soon as I reached my destination.

"Baby girl, you're gonna get sick. Let's go take a bath," He unsuccessfully attempted to lift my limp body. I groaned in protest, dead on my feet. It felt like I had walked a thousand miles. Wasn't gonna remove myself from a warm, soft Tony.

"I'm dead, like, I'm a zombie. If you move me, I'll eat that sexy brain of yours," I threatened fitfully.

"Well, at least change out of these clothes. You're dripping me in gross, polluted rain water," The engineer laughed.

"Lazy," I replied, nestling myself closer to his warmth. He tugged on my clothes, wrestling me out of the top layers, leaving me shivering like a newborn kitten across his lap. His eyes darted across the room - evidently, he was looking for some sort of a hoodie as he wasn't wearing one at the time. Tony knew how much I loved those and always kept one in his vicinity. Thoughtful, lovely Tony.

"Have you seen my MIT sweatshirt?" He asked and everyone replied negative. Tony frowned.

"Here, have mine," Strange stood up, unzipping and handing me his own plain grey one. "I'll make some herbal tea for the girls least they actually get sick." With that, the grumpy doctor walked off into the kitchen. I watched his broad back retreat with renewed interest. Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave...

One warm hoodie and hot tea later, I was feeling less like a drowned cat and more like the fabulous human being that I was. Wanda had told everyone about her two cute new dresses without actually revealing the idea behind her costume. Somehow all of us silently agreed to surprise each other after I pulled my stunt on Stephen.

Strange didn't seem to be mad at me; his presence was amiable and delightful. He made usual small talk and we engaged in a brief, friendly battle of the wits and he and Tony managed to not piss off each other too much. Loki and Wanda hung nearby, and we chatted, too, mostly about less popular but very cool movies the three of us could watch... Yeah, so we were arranging a sleepover. Bite me.

"So, everyone ready for the party?" Clint was all but bouncing in his seat. "Me and Sammy-boy, we'll have the coolest costumes!" He exclaimed, smirking in Tony and Bruce's direction. Something was coming, something great, from my two boys. I could sense it. Natasha probably knew and tattled to Clint already. The bird bros fist-bumped with an obnoxious cheer.

I was feeling drowsy. The tea Strange made had something calming in it. My usual energetic spirit was gone, replaced by a mellow sort of mood. Plus, my feet hurt from all the walking. I moaned in distaste, flexing my toes.

"I disagree," Wanda shared a secretive smile with Loki and me.

Apparently, my discomfort was quite obvious. It took only another quiet, pitiful groan from me for Bruce to scoot closer, remove my socks and tenderly knead the arch of my foot. He smiled at me, soft and gentle, pressing the pads of his fingers into the soft, painful spots.

"Yeah, Pigeon, no amount of make-up will help that ugly mug," Tony declared with a wave of his hand.

"Tony!" Sam defended his bird bro, tossing a pillow at the engineer and missing me by barely an inch.

"You don't need any make-up, bird. You need plastic surgery." I jumped on the bully Clint bandwagon for the lolz. He was actually quite handsome, but his reactions always were fucking priceless. All of us occasionally ruffled his feathers but never to an actually hurtful extent.

"Not gonna lie, that one hurt." Barton huffed, crossing his arms.

Meanwhile, Bruce had moved onto my other foot. I had to hold in a bunch of very lewd, inappropriate noises. Tony was grinning above me, not at all affected by me squirming around. Banner grinned back at the engineer. They were definitely plotting something.

That just wouldn't do, I decided. Time to throw Rick and Morty off their course a little. I stretched leisurely, allowing the hem of my borrowed hoodie to lift, exposing an inch too much of skin than strictly appropriate.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steve's arched eyebrow and the small secretive smirk he hid behind a cup of tea. The Captain wasn't as virtuous as the others thought and he definitely was onto me.

Bruce still wreaked havoc on my vestibular system by doing some magical voodoo shit to my toes and traded suspicious grins with Tony who radiated an unfair amount of smugness.

"Oh my God," I stretched with a moan of contentment. "Fucking rail me." I might have used this particular choice of words on purpose. The Avengers that memed with me knew the actual meaning but they were in the minority. Most, including Tony and Bruce, gasped in shock at my choice of words. I grinned innocently. "What?"

"We don't use that kind of language around here!" Steve exclaimed, barely hiding a full-fledged laugh behind his cup.

"Cap, a lot has changed in the past seventy years, if you didn't notice," Barton rolled his eyes. "Women are allowed to express themselves now."

"Men think it's pretty hot, actually," Tony remarked, giving me one of his positively mischievous smiles, gently stroking my cheek and dipping his index finger under the hem of my top, following the lines of my collarbone. "It's just that Cap got left out in the cold."

"Very funny, Tony," Steve groaned as the rest of the group laughed. "We don't need a repeat of the WAP incident."

I choked on my breath. "The WHAT incident?!"

Laughter drowned out Steve's stuttering explanation as the supersoldier blushed, possibly, the most saturated shade of scarlet I'd ever seen on a human's face. I had to stop Bruce from continuing to make my limbs into Jell-O, wanting to hear the full story clearly. Anything that warranted such a strong reaction from Steve was bound to be, like, equal parts extremely embarrassing and hilarious. Bucky was laughing up a storm, a tell-tale sign of him having taken direct actions to ensure Steve would be as confused and ashamed as possible.

"Steve caught Peter listening to the song and asked him about it. Peter refused to answer at first, so Bucky decided to mess with Steve a bit," Pietro began explaining. "So Bucky goes: WAP stands for wasted academic potential. Steve sits on it a couple of days, believing his boyfriend like the naïve old man he is," Pietro was gesturing vividly, arms flailing, as the Captain buried his face in his hands. "Lo and behold, Steve had to give a Captain America speech at some sort of school for delinquent children. And at the end of it all - Natasha has that bit on video, by the way - he gives his stern Captain look and goes "WAP is no joke!"!" The speedster laughed out loud along with everybody.

I was howling at that point, staring at Steve. Did the old man realize all the answers to his questions were a simple Google search away? "NO, he didn't, oh my God," I wheezed, suddenly having realized where it was going.

"He totally did!" Clint continued, giving Pietro a fond look and a chance to catch his breath. "The whole student population was laughing, tears rolling down their faces, as the principal started angrily ranting right in Steve's face. And he was just so, so-o confused. Man, his face..." Clint shook his head. "He left so freaking red in the face I thought he was going to have a heart attack. The students had started singing the song, the uncensored version - mind you - at some point and Steve just progressively got redder and redder."

"I'm seventy percent Irish, I can't help it!" Steve cried in his own defense, the famous blush on full display, but laughing nonetheless as he clutched onto his left boob for dear life.

"And one hundred percent dumbass!" Bucky clapped his boyfriend on the shoulder.

I nodded along, me and Tony a howling pile of limbs. The engineer himself was holding onto me for dear life, too winded to make any of his usual snarky commentary regarding Steve's epic failure. "Pure of heart, dumb of ass," I wheezed out my sudden realization.

"Shit, I'm getting that on a t-shirt," Tony sent himself into another cackle fest. "That's brilliant, Princess."

Bucky nodded along, "I'm buying one for this punk." He pointed at Steve, poking him in the right pec.

"Jerk," Steve's gaze was annoyed but fond as he gently shoved his boyfriend before placing a gentle kiss atop his head. Old people in love, so adorable.

"May I request one for my brother as well?" Loki interjected, eyebrow raised, eyeing Thor trying to pry open a carton of ice cream and failing to notice the little plastic lid covering the top part of it. The blonde was utterly oblivious both to his brother and to the chaos around him, set on his quest for salted caramel pecan creamy goodness. I couldn't say I didn't see the appeal...

"What did you call - himbos?" Stephen eyed me curiously, pointing to Thor and Steve with a shaky hand.

I nodded in response. "Harmless, loveable, kind, beefy and utter dumbasses," I pointed out the main characteristics. "I love himbos."

"You said my brain was sexy," Tony pouted, pressing me closer to him and in turn, making my legs wrap around Bruce in a funny way that brought all three of us in a weird sandwich hug. I must've died and gone to heaven once again. "This is bullshit," And Tony fuckin' bit me. The bastard sunk his teeth into my shoulder strong enough to leave a mark.

"I love big, fat brains. Unf," My attempt at a salacious voice only made people laugh. "No PhD, no pussy. I don't make the rules," I snorted loudly.

"You and your old man kink," Wanda chuckled good-naturedly, casting me a knowing glance over the tops of her friends' heads.

"Yes," I agreed solemnly, pulling Tony in for a kiss without an ounce of shame or reservation, catching Stephen's amused face meeting my eyes for a brief second, his eyebrow raised meaningfully. Looked like someone took my comment a little close to heart. Nobody really batted an eye at Bruce being in the middle of our cuddle puddle so if I had to guess, Stephen Strange was at least interested... Or was he silently judging me?

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

#bruce banner x reader #tony stark x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #bruce banner x you #tony stark x you #stephen strange x you #bruce banner x y/n #tony stark x y/n #stephen strange x y/n #party favours #bun writes

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untaemedqueen · 5 years ago

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The Lions Den

Mafia!Jimin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Chapter 2.

Warnings: Smut, Blood, Guns, Knives, Excessive Cursing, Excessive Alcohol Intake, Smoking (Cigarettes and Cigars), Mental Health Issues

Warnings for this chapter: Angsty Babies Fight

TagList- @ayyyocee, @mysugabear03, @wisebtsgot7prune, @imaforeigner, @yeonkiminnie, @stories1907, @ppersonna, @brilee64, @gooplibrary, @vivpurple7, @xjoonchildx, @brightwingr5, @yaniposts22, @rjsmochii, @taeslittletiger, @pjmcth, @bts-chub, @kpoppingthempills

Sequel to The Bird Cage

You stand on the balcony overlooking the casino as the night begins to drag on. There were men and women as far as the eye could see. “Madam.” Your head turns to the voice before smiling at Kirsoon.

He hands you a glass of champagne and you thank him quietly before turning your attention back to the game floor. Your eyes have been on a man, sitting at the blackjack table for quite some time. He was in a Tom Ford suit, classically styled as he sips on his brandy. He hasn’t moved from the table in two hours and the chips in front of him indicate just how good at blackjack he is. Good at blackjack is not a sentence to be said. Unless, you’re counting. Your eyes narrow at him as he flicks at the corners of the cards leisurely. He has on sunglasses so you can’t tell how shifty his eyes are. You can’t ask him to take them off, it’s not against the casino policy to wear shades. But, something is off.

Then your eyes catch it. When he flicks the corner, the man opposite him does so as well. “Kirsoon.” You call to the man behind you and he steps forward as you lean back calmly. “I have counters at blackjack four.”

He stands up straighter before nodding his head and taking off. “Counters at black four.” He mumbles into his wrist before he descends the stairs. Your ankles cross in front of you before leaning your chin on your hand.

“Counting?” You hear from behind you, before arms wrap around your waist. You hum as lips drift over the back of your neck. “I missed you, baby.”

You smirk before turning your head to your husband. You kiss his plush lips gently before hearing commotion downstairs. You turn your attention back to the floor as Kirsoon grabs the chips and places them in a velvet bag. The Tom Ford clad man gets hauled up before being dragged towards the staircase and you click your teeth as innocent patrons jump nervously. “Idiots.” You mumble as your husband’s grip on you tightens.

His hands run over your sides before kissing down your exposed shoulder. “Come home, I miss you.”

You don’t want to go home, though. To go home would mean to have sex with him. Which would lead to another heartbreak when you don’t get pregnant for him. “Soon.” You mumble before kissing his cheek and squeezing out of his grip.

“Kitten?” He whispers confused, you turn your head to him before running your fingers through his hair.

“I have to go take care of this. See you at home?” You ask him gently, but your feet are already walking towards your grandiose office. You hear his hands slap his thighs but you don’t dare turn around to face him. You have guilt just like he does.

You hold out your two fingers before a cigarette is placed within them. Kirsoon lights your cigarette and you smile at the man now tied to the chair in front of you.

“Hi. Good evening.” You whisper to him as he looks around the office. He seems nervous. Looks nervous more like, as you watch sweat begin to bead on his forehead. “Take off your sunglasses.” You tell him before ashing your cigarette into the glass tray on your desk.

You look at his bound hands before clicking your teeth. “Nevermind, Kirsoon will do it for you.”

The tall, stocky man rounds the desk before taking them off of his face and looking at the lenses. He snorts before handing you the glasses and you hold them daintily between your fingers. The lenses were a shade of blue, something that could be seen in the bright lighting of your office compared to the dim lighting downstairs. “You have ink on your fingers?” You ask quietly to the man in the chair in front of you.

He stays silent before showing you his hand. It was free of any ink and you rolled your eyes before putting the glasses to your face. Through the blue lenses you can see faint light blue streaks on his fingers and you hum to him. You break the glasses before Kirsoon holds out his hand beside you. They get discarded into his palm before shrugging your shoulders. You watch as the beads of sweat begin to run down his temples.

“Very nervous for someone who was so confident at my tables not too long ago.” He grunts gently and you lean back in your chair before inhaling some of your cigarette. “You had a partner downstairs. I saw.”

His eyes shift to his lap and you tilt your head before crossing your legs. With an exhale you burn out the cigarette in the glass ashtray and fold your hands in your lap. “You must be very smart to count cards.”

“It’s not hard.” He murmurs and you nod to him as he turns his head to look back at two security as they stand at the double doors. “Where’d you learn to count?”

His eyes flicker back to yours and before clearing his throat. “Princeton. In America.”

“Very good.” You say in English before leaning forward. “I’ll be speaking with you in English then since you can handle it.”

His eyes squeeze shut before his form turns smaller under your piercing gaze. “How much money can you win? If you have all night to do so?”

He bites nervously at the skin on his lip before opening his mouth, “If I can do it and do it without getting caught I can turn over about one hundred thousand a night.”

You whistle, the sharp noise making him shiver before you nod to him. “And can you do this without getting caught?”

He sighs gently before straining his arms against the confines of the rope he is in. “You’re the only person who’s caught me so far. I’m usually pretty good at it.”

You tilt your head before looking him over, if he can do it without getting caught it would be very profitable to the Lions. “Interesting.” You whisper before leaning back.

“What’s your name?”

“People call me Shownu.” You click your teeth before sipping your champagne.

“Well, Shownu. You’ll be working for me from now on.” He cringes before sitting up straighter. “Look, ma’am. I don’t- don’t do this all the time. Just y’know, my brothers need some extra cash so-”

“So you’ll steal from me? That’s what this is, you’ll just take money from my casino?” He bows his head in defeat and you stand up drawing his attention.

“You will work for me and repay everything you have tried to steal, and then some. You’ve been to the Mad Hatters Casino?” He gives a stiff nod before you look at Kirsoon.

“You’ll be taking their money from now on. What’s your real name?”

“Hyunwoo.” He whispers as you round the desk.

“Hyunwoo.” You let the name roll off of your tongue before nodding. “Welcome to the Lions Den.”

He curses gently before you look over at Kirsoon, “Guess someone will be getting the money you so easily lost.”

You pat Hyunwoo on the shoulder before walking towards the doors. “Make sure he doesn’t run anywhere. We have a lot of money to collect.”

“Yes Madam!”

Arriving home, there was little to no noise besides crickets chirping as the sky became an onyx black littered with small dots of stars. You could only hope Jimin had gone to bed by now so that you didn’t have to beat around the bush as to why you didn’t come home with him. Kirsoon was very capable of dealing with things on his own and the both of you know this. You take off your heels before stepping up the left staircase silently. Your eyes straining to see anything in the darkness but it’s welcoming to have this time to yourself.

You step up to the third floor before sighing gently, eyes lingering on the three metal doors to your right before anything else. Feet padding gently against the wooden floor you stop before the kids room which used to be yours. With a gentle push the room comes into view illuminated by the Tinkerbell night light that is plugged into the wall. Hawon sleeps soundly, arms over her face in her small bed and you find the corners of your lips turning upwards as she rolls over in her sleep. Minseok sleeps in his crib, on his stomach as per usual and you sigh gently.

The love you have for your two children could never diminish, never compare to anything else. You find yourself so immensely grateful for the both of them and your lips press into a straight line as you lean on the door frame. You and Jimin work hard to make sure they know how loved they are amidst your busy schedules. And, although you try to hide what you do from them you know they’ll discover it as they become older. It’s only a matter of time.

Your hand comes to your mouth as you stare at the both of them. There’s something tugging at your heart in this early hours of the morning, something akin to being empty. Your heart was full and your womb was empty. Maybe it wasn’t in the cards to have another one, maybe God was punishing you both for killing men and doing the jobs you’ve created for yourselves. Maybe just maybe you were fated with two and no more.

You shut the door to the kids room before looking over at the intricate wooden doors of the master bedroom. The lion so diligently carved into the wood makes you sigh. You remember a time when you stayed in the kids room and would open the door to look at Jimin’s doors with curiosity and burning passion. There was a sort of mysticality and longing when you first got together, he was something new and different for you and it brought a fire to your veins like nothing you had ever felt before. There was passion and ardor still, but there was also guilt and worry. Two emotions that sit in the pit of your stomach, roiling your nerves to no end.

You can only look forward to getting the Im’s and giving them payback. It’s something that keeps you going, keeps you moving. Because if you stop, that’s when the guilt and worry really settles in.

You open the door to the bedroom quietly, eyes scanning the moonlit room before seeing your husband in bed. You breathe a sigh of relief as he lays beneath the covers, one arm under his head and the other on the spot where you lay. His lips are parted as he lays still and your heart feels lighter just looking at his handsome face. That’s something you always find yourself grateful for. How being with him can change your mood like whiplash. Your worry is never at the forefront of your brain when you're with him. But, when you're alone that's a different story.

Climbing into bed you feel him shift, eyes opening blearily before smirking. “Hi Kitten.”

You hum to him as you lay down on your back, eyes on the canopy above you. He shifts closer to you, wrapping his arm around your body before putting his head on your shoulder. “Missed you.”

You kiss his forehead before closing your eyes, fingertips traipsing over the skin of his arm. “Missed you too.”

“I love you.” He mumbles sleepily and you smirk before getting comfortable beneath him, “I love you, too.”

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re going to do what I think you’re going to do.” Jimin mumbles with a mouth full of food before pointing his chopsticks in your direction. You sip your screwdriver before putting the spoon up to Minseok’s lips. You watch as he eats greedily before smiling at him and wiping his chin with your thumb. “And, what do you think I’m going to do?”

Jimin swallows before picking up his cup of coffee, “You’re going to send this Hyunwoo to steal from the Ims casino.” You look over at him before smiling. He scoffs gently as you pick up another spoon full of the scrambled eggs for your son. “Kitten.” Jimin mumbles before putting his hand on your knee.

You look down at his hand before crossing your legs, effectively knocking it off of you. He sighs loudly as you kiss Minseok’s forehead. “What if he gets caught?”

“He won’t.” You say before handing Minseok to Mirae as she sits at the breakfast nook. “But, what if he does? Isn’t the Casino Night enough? Shouldn’t we be worrying about that then having him take their money from counting cards?”

You hum to him before standing, you finish your screwdriver before kissing his forehead. “I want it all.” You flick your finger underneath his chin and he puts his hands over his face with a groan.

“Mirae watch the kids.” Jimin mumbles before chasing you.

“Hey, hey. Baby.” Your husband whispers, hands running over your bare arms as he stops you in the sitting room. Your arms fold before you look up at your husband. “Can we talk?” He begs of you and you clear your throat before walking past him. You cannot stop, you will not let the guilty set in.

“I have to go count the safe at the casino before it opens for the day.” Jimin’s tongue licks at his lips before he’s following behind you. “Please, Y/N. Give me five minutes.”

You enter your bedroom before walking into the closet and your husband closes the door behind you both. Locking it shut and pressing his back to it so you can’t leave even if you wanted too. “Very mature Jimin.” You mumble before rifling through your clothes.

“Are you angry with me?” He asks quietly and you raise your eyebrow before grabbing a Chanel dress you had bought not too long ago. “Angry? For what?”

His hands rub together and he stares at the floor. “You didn’t come home with me last night… I waited for you for hours.”

Oh God. Here we go. “I told you, I had Hyunwoo and the card counting to deal with.”

He nods thoughtfully before his head lolls back against the clouded glass door. “Kirsoon can take care of that stuff, too y’know.” You know this.

You take off your nightgown before sitting on the bench in your walk in closet. “I wanted to take care of it myself.” You whisper, guilt starting to set into your bones.

“That’s it? That’s the only reason why you didn’t come home with me?” You hesitate before nodding to your husband. “It’s not because we aren’t pregnant yet?”

Your jaw flexes in annoyance before you’re standing up. “Get out of my way. I have to take a shower and go.” You mumble stepping towards the door. He makes no move and you scoff before putting your hands through your hair.

“Baby.” His voice is gentle and it only makes you more upset. “Get out of my way Jimin.”

His hands reach for you and you take a step back, “Move. Before I make you.” You whisper to him. He swallows thickly before his mocha irises meet yours. “I know it must be really painful for you to not be pregnant yet and I’m really so-”

“Stop!” You cut him off before shoving him out of the way and unlocking the door. “Y/N. I know it’s probably taking a toll on you and I just want to make sure you know how much I love you.” He says as he follows you towards the bathroom.

“Leave me alone, Jimin.” You mumble before kicking open the bathroom door. You go to slam the door in his face, but he’s too quick and strong for that. He shoves the door open before following you inside and you groan loudly.

“What?! What do you want from me?!” You yell to your husband as you throw your dress onto the marble bench of the bathroom.

His eyes show sorrow as he looks at you and it only makes your heart clench tighter as you turn away from him. “Leave me be.” You tell him before turning on the shower.

He walks towards you before hugging you tightly and you shove at his body as your cheeks become inflamed with embarrassment and guilt. “Get off!” You yell to him before he tightens his grip.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck and you sigh impatiently as the bathroom begins to fog up with steam from the hot shower. “I love you.” He murmurs into your skin.

“I love you, too.” You mutter out before he loosens his grip.

“I don’t want to fucking talk about it. I don’t want to fucking think about it. So just leave me the fuck alone.” You tell your husband, perfectly manicured finger pointing in his direction.

He picks up your dress before sitting down on the marble bench. His legs cross and he watches you enter the steaming hot shower. He can feel his eyes begin to sting as you put your forehead to the white tiled wall. “Kitten, I think you’re projecting your anger about not being pregnant towards the Ims.” He whispers as his hands run over the expensive fabric of your dress.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?! Didn’t I?!” You yell before sitting down in the shower. With a heavy heart he continues on, knowing you need to hear this. “I know they killed your parents. I know there’s anger there that boils you like it does to me. But, you’re becoming aggressive. Like Jeongguk, you’re going about it in an unhealthy way. And, I think the reason is because you’re feeling guilty and hurt that we haven’t gotten pregnant again yet. I know that-”

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! GET OUT!” You scream at the top of your lungs as water begins to berate your head as you lean forward. Jimin bites his bottom lip as you turn your face away from him.

“I love you so much, baby. Another baby will come. I know it.” You scoff before putting your hands to your face, your foot kicks at the porcelain tub. “We just have to keep trying.” He mumbles before rubbing his hands on his suit pants.

Jimin has never been one to just let things lie. It’s what you loved about him, if you’re being honest. He always takes time to talk to you about things that might be troubling you or him so you never have to tiptoe around each other. After the first fight you had when you were pregnant with Hawon, he never kept anything inside after that. You just wish for once he would leave you alone. “We have been trying. Trying and failing.” You find yourself saying, your voice cracks and his head hangs lower at the raw emotion behind it.

“I know, Kitten. I know it’s really hard for you right now. But, I’m your other half, you need to talk to me.” God, he’s so annoying and so right.

He takes off his clothes, folding them neatly onto the bench before climbing into the shower behind you. He sits down, legs sprawling out beside yours before hugging you tightly from behind. It’s then that a sob rips from you unexpectedly. Your arms fold over your knees before your face is pressed to them. Jimin kisses over your shoulder, letting the hot water soak his body as you begin to cry. “You’re the strongest woman I know. But, it’s okay to not be strong sometimes. That’s why I’m here. To be your other half for you to lean on.”

Your tears that fall blend in with the water as it runs down the porcelain tub and down the drain. You don’t cry, you don’t break down. You’re Park Y/N, the vixen. And yet…

Your husband sits with you for a while, just letting you cry and even that makes you feel worse. “I feel so empty.” You whimper to him and he looks up at the ceiling as his eyes fill with tears. Trembling lips caress your wet skin and he blinks out a few tears before nodding.

“We’ll get pregnant again. I know it. My heart bleeds for you, you know that. I see the way you look at yourself in the mirror these days when you think I’m not paying attention. I see it all, everything.” You bury your face into your legs at his admission.

“We’ll get through this just like anything we’ve done before. Alright?” You nod weakly as he runs a hand over your soaked head. “I love you, Kitten.”

A cigarette dangles from Hyunah’s lips as you lean back into your chair. “So what? I’m uninvited to Casino Night then?” She says to you before lighting her cigarette.

“Yes, you’re uninvited.” You tell your friend as you sit in her office. She scoffs before rubbing her hand over her forehead. “Why is that?”

“Because it’s not a party. It’s a death sentence and you are not invited to die.” You tell her before lighting your own cigarette. She frowns at you before folding her arms. “That’s when I have fun though. I love a good death sentence.”

You giggle gently before ashing your cigarette into the ashtray. “Why do you look like shit?” She questions as her butler places two glasses of wine on the desk.

You look down at your Chanel dress before raising an eyebrow. “I look like shit?” She hums as she pulls from her cigarette.

“You look all strung out and miserable. Not like a lioness at all, in fact.” You frown before pulling from your cigarette. “Hyunah. I’m really not in the mood to feel more shitty about myself today. Okay?”

She raises an eyebrow before leaning across the desk and wiping her thumb under your eye taking off some of your concealer. “Why’d you cry? Do I have to go kill that little boy?”

You roll your eyes before pulling away from her and grabbing your glass of red wine. “No. This isn’t about him. It’s about me.”

She tilts her head before clicking her teeth. “You want another baby?”

“Oh my God, can you not do that fucking shit for like three seconds?!” You whine to her before standing up. She watches you pace in front of the fireplace before looking at her butler. “Brew some tea, with the tea leaves still inside.”

“No!” You whine to her as her butler leaves. “Yes.”

“I don’t want that shit! I just want to forget about it!” She shakes her head before grabbing her glass of wine. “Tough shit, lioness. We’ll see what the spirits say.”

You stare at Hyunah as the tea pot is set in front of the both of you. She pours you a cup before holding it out. You fold your arms and she shakes her hand gently. “Drink the fucking tea and then swirl the sediment. You’ve done this before when you were pregnant with Minseok and everything I said was correct. Yes or no?”

You grunt gently before nodding, “Then drink the fucking tea.”

You grab the cup before sneering at your older friend. She sips her wine before smirking at you. Good old Lee Hyunah. You chug the tea, the bitterness making you wince before you swirl the cup and hand it back to her. She clears her throat before setting the cup onto the table.

“Let’s see.” She mumbles and you lean forward without a second thought. It’s not that you didn’t believe the tea leaves. It’s that you don’t want to hear bad news from her that you’re suddenly infertile or some shit.

“Interesting.” She whispers to herself and you find yourself rolling your eyes. “Hyunah!”

The leaves just look like blobs and dashes to you and you find your tongue roaming over your teeth afraid any had gotten stuck in the crevices. “I see many things here, lioness.”

“Like?” You mumble feeling nervous now.

She points to four circles in a row before looking up at you, “That’s a chain, symbolizes a string of events coming your way.”

“An anchor is also apparent, meaning things are going to become difficult to change. Maybe within the string of events.”

You tilt your head as her eyes widen, “There is something like a basket which usually symbolizes fertility and a new addition.”

Your breath catches in your throat before you’re leaning your elbows onto the desk for more information. “What else?” You whisper as you peer into the cup of sediment.

“A bouquet. Symbol of a happy marriage.” You begin to smile before she takes a sharp breath between her teeth before picking up the cup.

“Oh, lioness.” You can hear the concern in her voice and it makes you shrink in form. “What?” You mumble uneasily.

She points at a black smudge of leaves before swallowing thickly. “That’s a beast, it means misfortune. And right next to it is a skull.”

She looks up at you before closing her eyes, “The one next to it is a raven.”

She opens her eyes before exhaling long and slow, “It means you’re going to die.”

#the lions den #the bird cage sequel #bts story #mafia!au #bts mafia!au #mafia!jimin #mafia!jimin x reader #mafia!jimin x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts series #btscreatorscorner

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chaseatinydream · 4 years ago

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sly san who sacrifices (iii) || c.s (atz)

➳ pairing: reader x choi san (ateez)

➳ word count: 2580

➳ genre: badboy au; fluff; angst

➳ synopsis: to the school, he may be a bad boy, the worst of the worst, but to you, he’s choi san, father of three cats, your best friend and ultimately, the boy you’re in love with.

>>>

You’re sitting at one of the tables in the open area of the coffee shop, watching the birds flutter gracefully overhead as they caw to one another. The bright, multicolored walls of the surrounding shop houses brighten the area, hydrangeas reaching upwards like meandering fingers, their pretty white blooms looking like the puffy white clouds in the blue sky above them.

There’s almost something magical about this moment, at this little coffee shop. It holds so many memories for you and your best friend, from the very first time you learned that the school’s fearsome bad boy only liked his coffee tooth rottingly sweet to the many lighthearted chats you’d had over a shared frappe even though San was rich enough to buy twenty of his own.

You know this place like it’s the back of your hand, memories tugging at you from every little mismatched table and chair, the chimes dangling from the front door like music to your ears. By all means, this should be a peaceful day for you, sipping coffee at your usual spot with the perfect weather to accompany it... But today?

It’s anything but that.

They spill from the inside of you before you can stop them.

“I think I like San.”

When the words leave your mouth, they’re something along the lines of what you’d call a revelation. It’s as if your eyes have been opened to the truth, like something has been hiding it from you all this while, buried under layers of platonic feelings and the label of mere friendship. It feels like a thousand galaxies have exploded in the space of a single breath, stars and suns dying out all at once, an entire swarm of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You turn to the one sitting opposite you. Park Seonghwa, resident school badboy, kitten lover and one of your new best friends, returns your gaze over the rim of his cup, eyelashes fluttering a little as he takes in your words. Your breath catches and you lean forward in your chair, waiting for him to react, waiting for his verdict...

If you are expecting some form of surprise, a trace of shock, at least, you are sorely disappointed. The older boy merely takes a long, relaxed sip of his cappuccino, sets down the cup with way too much calm for a moment such at this and nods with all the patience of a sage.

“I know.”

He knows?

You nearly choke on your own coffee, turning around to cough rather ungracefully as the hot caffeine scalds your throat. At the sound of your sputtering, Seonghwa yelps in alarm and rushes around the table to slap your back gently in some attempt to help you, “Are you alright?”

You wave him off, setting down your cup unsteadily as you wheeze for air. A little of the coffee spills over the rim and onto the cup. “Y-yeah... Just... Give me a moment.”

As you wipe your mouth, you try to collect your thoughts. What does Seonghwa mean by the fact that he knows? You’ve never told anyone else but him! Hell, even you just found out yourself!

“How-” You cough again and Seonghwa almost reaches over to pat you on the back once more. “How did you know?”

Seonghwa’s hand falters for a split second before it touches you and returns to his side, where it rests next to his half finished cup of coffee, a curious frown pulling on his lips. “I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. When did you realise that you like San-ie?

Your eyebrows pinch together as you try to determine the exact point of time you had realised this fact. Thinking back, you wind back your memories like the film on a cassette tape, watching endearing moments and listening to seemingly simple words replay in your mind over and over again.

The feeling in your chest started about a month ago, when you had been over at San’s house one day after school. San had decided to play truant, calling the lessons boring and had somehow dragged you along with him even though you’d protested the entire way. Claude had nearly had a coronary when the two of you had rung the doorbell of the front gates, lecturing San like a stern father the entire way into the main house. But instead of turning the same venomous gaze onto Claude as San did to all his teachers, your best friend had merely worn a happy smile as he listened to his butler’s nagging, looking the most content you’d ever seen him.

It was still early in the day and you were exhausted from being practically kidnapped by your best friend, so San had suggested playing with his pets. The two of you had sat on the white marbled floors of the mansion’s entry hall, Shiber curled up in San’s lap while you curled your fingers through Darong’s soft grey fur. It had been a warm, peaceful afternoon, and while nothing especially significant had happened at all, you remembered the conversation the two of you had had as if it were just yesterday.

“Doesn’t this feel like a family?”

You paused in stroking Darong, the tiny cat mewing in protest when your hand stilled against its fur. Frowning, you turned around to look at San a little more clearly, taking in the way he was casually lounging against the wall of the hallway. Dressed in sweats and a simple hoodie with a small Shiba Inu snoozing in his lap, he looked nothing like the rebel he was in school, so intensely focused on scratching Shiber behind the ears that you’d briefly wondered if he had said anything at all.

“What did you say?” You asked, reaching to scratch Puchi under the chin and you felt the larger cat purr ever so softly, entire body vibrating as he sank into your touch. The smile came to San’s lips naturally, his eyes never leaving Shiber as he spoke with ease, seemingly lost in thought.

“This. Us.” He emphasized, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. Your eyes were involuntarily drawn to that minute action, fingers slowing under Puchi’s head as you waited for him to elaborate. “This kind of feels like a family, don’t you think?”

You thought about it for a moment, fully intent on teasing him for a moment... but there was something quiet, somber, even, in his tone that stopped you from doing so. Frowning a little, you cocked your head and asked aloud, voice laced with curiosity.

“How so?”

“Well...” San dragged the word out thoughtfully, squeezing Shiber lightly. The dog let out a tiny ‘woof’ and buried his face deeper into San’s belly, sniffing the hem of his master’s shirt. But San didn’t react at all, eyes lost in some imaginary world you couldn’t quite see. “I could be the dad and you could be the mom, you know. And they could be our kids.”

His free hand, the one that wasn’t resting on the ruff of Shiber’s collar, pointed at the two cats in your lap and for a second, something delicate and soft, like the wings of a butterfly, brushed the edges of your heart.

“Yeah.” You breathed softly, as if you could break the precious silence of the room by speaking just a little too loud, closing your own eyes. “We could be.”

“I’m not sure... Probably a while ago.” You try to play it off. There’s something just too intimate about that moment to you, too precious for you to reveal to even Seonghwa. The blond haired boy merely shrugs, taking a mouthful of his latte. The two of you sit in peaceful silence for a while and you take the opportunity to ponder your thoughts.

San.

Your best friend.

There’s something about him that’s just... different. You aren’t sure how to describe the lightness that you feel when you’re with him, how he seems to intuitively know what to do whenever you’re feeling down. Everyone may call him a rebel, violent, reckless, but really, you know that he is a kind person at heart.

“You’ve changed him, you know?” Seonghwa tells you softly and you’re startled out of your thoughts, staring at him in surprise. You’re utterly confused, quite unable to comprehend his words.

“What do you mean?” You nearly trip over your words in your haste, but Seonghwa merely smiles gently at you, patting your hand with his own. “Ever since coming to this school and meeting you, San has really become so different. From someone who didn’t care about who he hurt, from a person who cared only for himself and enjoyed playing others like they were his own dolls, he’s become so much more... human.”

“What? Nah.” You try to wave his words off, feeling a little embarrassed. There’s no way you could have changed San so much. “San was already a nice person from the beginning, that’s how we got so close-”

“Did he ever tell you why he was expelled from his former school?” Seonghwa asks, voice serious and you halt, swallowing nervously. You know that San had been kicked out of his former school due to misbehavior on his part, but how serious could it be?

“No?”

“He got involved with a drug gang and dealing in contraband. That’s where he met Wooyoung.” Seonghwa tells you grimly and your mouth falls open in horror. You can’t comprehend exactly how serious that must have been. “And while he was high he got reckless and nearly beat another student half to death under the influence. The two of them got expelled together and came here.”

The rest of his words are left unsaid.

Where he met you.

“But... he met the rest of you... of ATEEZ!” You blabber furiously, head spinning in circles now. You don’t know what to say. “I mean, I’m sure all of you would have changed him for the better too! You’re all good friends who’d do anything for each other, wouldn’t you?”

Seonghwa nods firmly without a second’s hesitation at your words, fingers drumming on the side of his cup. “True. I’d do anything for any of my friends. But you see, there’s something different between good friends... and those who are good influences. If San came to any of us with a problem, we’d likely try to beat up the problem for him, take him out to the bar, encourage him to sleep his problem off.” You can’t help but let out a little snort at his words, but Seonghwa hushes you with a sad smile. “But with you? You teach San to rein in his anger, to keep his cool, to be the best person he can possibly be. He wants to be a good person for you.”

You’re stunned into silence.

“But-” You can barely find the words to protest with, reeling from shock. Did you... really do that to San?

“Think back on who he used to be. Whoring around, drinking till the wee hours of morning, hanging out late at parties.” Seonghwa tells you honestly. “But after meeting you, we barely see him there anymore. For example, last Tuesday’s party at Changbin’s house-”

“San, I’m stressed!”

“Oh?” Your best friend’s amused voice came over the phone as you whined and flopped onto your bed, notes sprawled over the sheets. “Isn’t the test tomorrow?”

You sat up so fast you could feel the bones in your back creaking, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How do you of all people know that there’s a test tomorrow?”

“You’ve been ranting about it for the past week, silly.” He said so fondly that you couldn’t help but let out a little giggle. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Could you bring over Darong for me to pet?” You joked, closing your eyes as you imagined running your fingers through the kitten’s soft fur. San’s house was at the opposite side of town, you mused to yourself in disappointment. What a pity, or you would have headed over to his mansion to give the small cat hugs and kisses-

Minutes later after you had hung up, San had arrived at your doorstep, a soft grey kitten in a basket under his arm and a stack of notes in his hands. Upon seeing your dumbstruck face, he had merely grinned, bopped you on the nose and jerked his head at the door.

“Wanna study together?”

“I told him I was stressed out over tests and he came over to study with me.” You recall, eyes widening. You weren’t aware that there was a party last Tuesday! “San didn’t tell me-”

“He wanted to spend time with you.” Seonghwa informs you gently, shaking his head in light amusement. “And we both know-”

“-San hates studying.” You finish off his sentence and Seonghwa chuckles softly, nodding. Then his smile softens into something a little more warm, a little more sweet and you can’t help but return it, your thoughts wandering to San.

Has he really changed that much?

“True love changes people.” Seonghwa tells you, beaming. “And even if you didn’t love San, I honestly think he’s already fallen for you. Hard, actually.”

Now that you can wave off confidently. “Nah, he just sees me as a friend.”

The side of Seonghwa’s lip quirks upwards and he leans forward, thumb swiping a bit of cream smudged on the side of your mouth and you yelp in shock, batting his hand away. You can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. “Seonghwa-oppa, what are you-”

“San does that to you all the time, you know?” Seonghwa grins, a mischievous grin playing on his lips and you blanch in realisation. You’d never realised-

Suddenly, it starts raining.

“Let’s go!” Seonghwa grabs your wrist and the two of you run for shelter, Seonghwa pulling you under the canvas of the shop’s awning. You’re breathless, wet from the rain, but you can’t help but laugh brightly as the truth comes to you, so much more clear this time.

“I love San.” You say louder this time and Seonghwa smiles near radiantly at you, slinging his leather jacket around your shoulders. It’s warm, but you crave for the thick wool of San’s red coat, the familiar scent that lingers there at the collar.

You want him.

“So take this until San gives you his coat instead.” He laughs and you wrap your arms around him to give him a big hug.

“Thank you, Seonghwa-oppa.”

The silver charms on your bracelet clink against each other as if calling to something, and you glance up in surprise.

There’s a lone man in the middle of the street, standing alone in the pouring rain, wearing a black coat and a cap tugged low over the his eyes, hands shoved in his pockets. Something about his posture, the slight sag of his shoulders and the way his head is tilted downwards, it makes you feel sad for him. Is he alright?

Squinting, you lean forward to catch a glimpse of his features, but the man merely hikes up the collar of the coat before you can see his face.

But he seems familiar... somehow.

“Seonghwa-oppa.” You tug at the older boy’s sleeve insistently, urgently, and he turns to look at you in confusion. You point at the man, certain that you’ve seen him somewhere before.

“Do you recognise him-”

But before you can finish your sentence, he’s already gone.

#ateez #ateez san #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #san fanfic #choi san #w; san #w; fanfiction

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crimeronan · 4 years ago

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this might become part of a larger piece with more context if i ever have the stamina to write the rest of the larger piece with more context - but in the meantime it also works as a standalone

rodansey, post trk, bed sharing, cuddling, everyone’s weird issues

Ronan has a key to the place, so his arrival isn’t unusual. Even the setting’s ungodly half-submerged 2:43 AM moonlight isn’t unusual. It’s odd not to share a roof with Ronan, and it’s odd to have a space to himself after Monmouth, and it’s odd to hear his isolated thoughts echo. Ronan seems to share these feelings, or at least feelings similar enough to drive him into Gansey’s bed. Probably it’s codependency, but a tiny part of Gansey can’t help the relief: this saves him from having to seek Ronan out instead.

Tonight is unusual in that Ronan elbows the door open, in his usual graceless way, and he says, “Is Parrish”-

and then he stops.

He stops, presumably, because he doesn’t need to finish.

Adam is a mostly-obscured mound of covers wrapped up in Gansey’s limbs, but the blue moonlight plays silver tricks on his hair, and his snore is louder than Gansey’s thoughts. Before tonight, Gansey hadn’t actually known Adam snored. Gansey is still struggling to believe that this — an Adam who climbs into bed the same way Ronan does, an Adam who wants Gansey close enough to seek him out, an Adam who allows Gansey to adore him like this — is real.

“Yeah,” Ronan says, and there’s a distinct air of finality, as though he’s grown weary of waiting for Gansey to ask or explain or confess, and has skipped the entire conversation to save time.

This should be a positive development. Certainly Gansey’s never opposed to Ronan’s presence. But all Gansey finds inside himself is a diluted nausea, a hint of seasickness promising rough storms ahead. He has no diagnosis for this, either, until he does: Ronan’s expression is complicated and unfamiliar and Gansey can’t read it. Gansey can’t read it. Ronan’s eyes are studying the dusty tousle of Adam’s hair against the pillow, and his mouth is a hard line, and his brows are drawn together with concentration or consternation, and he doesn’t look angry, but he sure as hell doesn’t look happy.

Somewhere inside Gansey is a logical, mildly befuddled person searching for explanation. Somewhere, sometime, there is a Gansey who knows that this isn’t about crossed lines or broken boundaries or unwitting infidelity, because Ronan crawls into Gansey’s bed himself all the damn time.

Right now, though, there’s just this: something curling up tight and small inside him, something stupid and shameful and sick, something rightfully punished for believing this was okay. The worst part is that he doesn’t feel guilty — how can he feel guilty when he doesn’t know what he did? — and so the unhappiness manifests more like grief. He’ll lose one or the other either way. He’s always been losing them, he’ll lose them again a thousand more times. He’ll-

Ronan picks his way across the wooden floorboards. The movement is an absurd cross between a stalking lion and a flamboyant bird’s mating dance.

Gansey blinks, nonplussed enough to snap out of his spiral. Then he realizes that Ronan’s avoiding the squeaky spots, placing all the same care into this endeavor that he does into loving Chainsaw and Matthew and the animals at the Barns.

“I don’t want to wake him,” Ronan mutters, now that he’s reached the edge of the mattress. It’s not a whisper, but it’s at least low enough to sound believable.

This intention Gansey can read. His half-hyperventilated gasp of relief is embarrassingly audible.

“Adam,” he murmurs, very cool and casual, “hey, scoot over with me.”

It’s not actually hard to migrate Adam to the middle of the bed. Gansey keeps a loose arm around his waist, wriggling back toward the far edge of the mattress, and Adam follows. If Adam’s awake, he’s not awake enough for real consciousness. He presses himself up against Gansey’s chest and snuffles in a vaguely terrible way and nuzzles underneath Gansey’s chin.

Gansey feels kind of like he’s been bestowed rare affection from a sleepy kitten, with the added caveat that he’s also so lovesick he thinks his heart might explode, which would be an unbelievably stupid way to squander the second resurrection.

Ronan slots himself into the newly-vacated sliver of mattress like a very long, thin shadow. Gansey is not confident there’s room for all of them, but Ronan fits easily around the curve of Adam’s back, and when he lays his arm over Adam’s side, his hand brushes Gansey’s hip.

“Go the fuck to sleep,” Ronan says, still at tender baby bird volumes.

Gansey doesn’t, but it’s the best insomniac night in a long time.

#rodansey #ronsey #adansey #trc #my writing

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