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kpopmalereader · 4 years ago

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prepare ; won kunhang

• summary: you and hendery take your first vacation together, a trip to meet your family and visit your hometown • pairing: won kunhang x male!reader • word count: 2117 • to do

You walk into your apartment, expecting to be greeted by your golden retriever of a boyfriend. Seeing the kitchen and living room unoccupied would make you think he left already, but his shoes strewn across the entranceway and the covers you folded this morning spread over Hendery’s spot on the couch makes you believe he’s still here.

You venture further into the apartment, hearing a groan come from your room. You stop for a second before hearing mumbling and another cry. The second is louder than the first, and you start to grow worried.

“Okay, okay, okay.”

You hear him repeat the word more times than you can count and slowly open the door. He’s standing in front of the full-body mirror in button-up shirt and slacks. You watch as he straightens his back and smiles. It’s a much smaller smile than you usually would see from him, and it does nothing to help your understanding of the situation. “Hello, it is very nice to meet you. I’ve heard,” He stops and shakes his head. “It is- It’s very nice- It is-”

He groans again and ruffles his hair. He leans down and fixes what he just messed up, straightening his shirt.

You step into the room softly. You don’t want to disturb what he’s doing but also want to make sure it isn’t undue stress doing him in.“Whatcha doin’?”

He sighs and turns, shoulders slumping. He seems almost sad, and you walk forward, picking his chin up. “I’m trying to practice for when I meet your parents,” He mumbles. “We leave today, and I don’t want to get there and say something that makes them think negatively of me.”

You turn him around and stand behind him, pointing at his face in the mirror. “That is Won Kunhang. He is one of the best people I have ever met. I am very in love with him. I have told my parents and my entire family as much.”

“I want to make a good impression.” He states, criticizing himself in the mirror.

“You will.” You ruffle his hair, giving it it’s natural fall instead of the gelled-back style he had it in. “By being yourself. You can wear this shirt because you look good in it, but why don’t we untuck it, and you can stop worrying about using the exact right words when meeting my parents.”

He turns and leans against the mirror. His eyes are downcast, and your heart aches for him. He whispers when he speaks. “I want them to like me.”

“Love,” You sigh and wrap your arms around him. “They will because you are the sweetest, funniest, and most caring person I know. No one can resist loving you, Hendery. I couldn’t.”

He reaches up and picks at his bottom lip. You take his hand and hold it against your chest. The concerned expression doesn’t wipe from his face, and you hold his cheeks.

“Hello, it is very nice to meet you. I’ve heard great things about you, and I’m glad you invited me.” You smile at him and nod your head. “That’s all you have to say.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“It’s what I did when I met your parents,” You kiss his nose lightly. “If you want, you can even add a few things about me that you like. Say they raised me well.”

“If I wasn’t your boyfriend- if I was your sister’s boyfriend or your cousin’s... Would you like me?”

You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you weren’t my boyfriend and someone else in my family got to you first, I would be devastated I couldn’t date you.”

He looks down at you. “But would you like me?”

“Yes! Yes, I would like you. And I would be willing to bet my parents would have looked at me and said they wanted me to find someone like you.”

“Really?” His voice is small and hopeful, and you nod your head, trying to convey everything to him.

“Really. I promise. My parents will love you. My cousins will love you. My aunt will say she wishes everyone in our family could find someone like you. My nieces and nephews and little cousins will love to play with you and want to spend the whole trip with you. Now, put this shirt back in your suitcase so we can go.”

Hendery rubs his hands together. He breathes in and out deeply, preparing himself to knock on the door. You hold his hand lightly, swinging them slowly. “Let me know when you’re ready.”

He smiles, and his face falls again. He scrunches his face and smiles again, making small changes to his facial expression. He rolls his shoulders and squeezes your hand. He nods.

You bump your shoulder into his and reach over, knocking on your parent’s front door. It takes a second for your mom to get to the door, but when she does, Hendery’s grip on your hand grows even tighter. You smile at your mom, and she envelopes you in a hug. She pulls back and holds your face. “It’s been too long!”

She lets you go and turns to Hendery. “Hello!”

“Hel-” He’s cut off as your mom wraps him in a hug, patting him on the back. “Oh.”

“Come in, come in! Find a seat.”

You smile at him and pull him inside. He follows right behind you, bumping into your back when you stop sooner than he expected. You smile, introducing him into countless family and family-friends and people you’re not sure are related to but have come to every event since you were born. Hendery sits next to you as you eat, asking hushed questions about people he’s met.

You hook your foot around his ankle and smile at him. “Not so bad, huh?”

“Get their honest opinions of me when I’m not around.” He mutters before stuffing his face with your mom’s home-cooking.

Music plays throughout your house, bouncing off the walls and entering through crevices and cracks in the building. Hendery wakes up in your childhood room alone. He sits up and sees the door cracked. He can hear your voice singing and laughing along with the song. He walks through the house quietly, not wanting to disturb the normality. He rounds on the kitchen, seeing you, your mom, and a young child dancing around the kitchen with wooden spatulas in hand.

You turn around as you dance, spotting Hendery standing a few feet away. You point to him and call him in, throwing your arms in the air. “Join us.”

“I like the view.”

You shake your head and dance over to him. You stick the spoon in front of his mouth, smiling wide. You stop singing, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

He sighs and grabs the spoon. You giggle at continue to dance along, singing the song as loud as you can without it being categorized as yelling. He starts singing along quietly, swaying back and forth with the music. Your mom looks over and smiles, picking up the young family member. They dance together, and she not-so-subtly hip-bumps you closer to Hendery. You grab his hand and start dancing with him, forcing him to loosen up. He watches you for a while before really joining in, hopping and moving with you.

Your laughs ring through the kitchen and up the stairs. You pull him closer and kiss his cheek. “Still nervous?”

You walk hand-in-hand with Hendery. You seem calm. Content. He’s enthralled with your face, your smile, how the feeling of belonging flows from you without stop. You point at a storefront not far in front of you, waiting for him to look up. He pulls himself from watching your face and looks over.

“That is a restaurant. It’s only been there for about a year. Before it was a restaurant, which no one really likes, by the way, it was an antique store. And it was run by this man, he was great, he was one of the nicest people ever, but he retired a few years back and closed it down. He searched for someone to take it over, but he didn’t have any kids, and no one around here knew how to run a business.” You shake your head. “He and his wife moved a little while after the shop turned into a restaurant.”

You smile softly. “My mom worked next door, it used to be a little boutique, and sometimes her shifts would last longer than school, so I would come here instead of going home. Sometimes I would sit behind the counter next to the piles of hangers, but I would visit Mr. Claude some days. He would show me around the different finds, telling me that there was always something great about everything.”

Hendery watches you as you look at the not great restaurant. The wind blows your hair to the side, and your eyes sparkle. “He would point to an old, stained china set that nobody would buy and tell me all about how if someone could clean it up, they would see that it was an amazing set that was passed down from generations, but something happened where it was accidentally given away, and the original owner’s great-great-great-great granddaughter had spent her entire young adult life looking for it but could never find it.”

“Or! I would beg my mom to buy this ancient stuffed bear, but she thought its eyes were creepy, so she never got it for me. He would keep it by the register and tell me that I should look for someone I thought was worthy enough to have it. And an older woman walked in one day, and I told Mr. Claude she seemed nice enough to take care of him. And, by some miracle for my 7-year-old self, she got some stuff and walked up to the register and started talking about how the bear looked exactly like one she had when she was a kid and how she would love to buy it, but she only brought enough money for the other things. I just lit up and looked at Mr. Claude like it was the best thing ever, and he told her if she could promise to take the best care of it, he would give it to her for a discount. I was amazed. I didn’t stop talking about it for weeks.”

Hendery smiles along with your story, your excitement at remembering your story exuding off of you. It makes him excited, and he never wants you to stop talking.

You point at a big, white marble building up the street. “That is the library. It is the oldest building in town, even the Court House is younger, and I spent most of my high-school years there.”

You gesture across the street. “The building there is the old school-house. There’s a park behind that everyone chips in to fix up and replace every few years for the new kids in town. The school-house is mostly used as a museum now, but sometimes Town Meetings are held inside. I don’t know why we have Town Meetings.”

He watches you, not worrying about running into the street-lights, too focused on listening to your recounts of stories. You continue to speak. You tell stories he can’t wholly follow sometimes, not knowing most of the people you refer to or the place names. He watches your hands fly up when you repeat something exasperating someone once said about your small town and giggle to yourself as you remember old inside jokes he doesn’t want to ruin with asking questions about it. After a few stories, you realize you’ve been talking for a while and look a bit flustered, ears turning red.

“Sorry, I know you’re probably not that interested.”

“No. No. Tell me everything,” He nods and holds your hands tighter. “I don’t want to miss any details.”

You sigh happily, bumping your shoulder into him. “When I lived here, I didn’t like it much, but after I moved, I realized I really did. Everybody knows everybody, and it’s nice being able to walk everywhere. I don’t know…”

Hendery kisses your temple. “It’s sweet. I like seeing how happy it makes you. Maybe we can get a house somewhere like this in the future.”

“Seriously?” You look up at him with a bright smile, eyes shining endlessly.

He laughs and nods his head. “Yeah, of course. We can buy a vacation house and visit on breaks. We’ll get to know everyone, and you’ll get new small-town stories to share.”

You bite your lip and nod slowly. “I would like that.”

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

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@i-am-a-blob-fish You absolutely had a galaxy brain idea here! This is absolutely a wonderful idea and I wholeheartedly agree with you. A continuation of this story.

The tour bus was one of the few times the wolves could be in whatever form they preferred. Somehow Jaskier had managed to find them the most oblivious driver on earth. Or maybe he was just too used to the weird things celebrities tended to get up to when bored. So he didn’t seem too fazed when he had an odd mix of sometimes wolves and sometimes humans on the bus while Jaskier talked to them all like they were interchangeable entities.

That was how Jaskier found himself with a reputation. It became a bit of a trademark of his to be seen with at least one wolf by his side. People complained quite a lot, asking about permits and safety but Jaskier never acknowledged them. After all, the wolves weren’t on leashes, nor did they have collars. Nobody could probe they were his. If anything, Jaskier told his management that he was theirs, the wolves’ human. A few outlets pondered about the link between the scarred wolves and the scarred bodyguards Jaskier was seen with quite often. However, nobody dared say it outright for fear of ridicule. Even if the scars looked eerily identical on humans and wolves. Even if the humans seemed to have a weird penchant for wearing yellow contact-lenses that were rather wolf like.

As Jaskier’s fan base grew, the wolves got their own fans. It became a challenge amongst fans to see all four wolves. Somehow, things got to the point that there was always a wolf on stage with Jaskier. Rumour had it, it was after a fan with less than pleasant intent had tried to clamber on and only a white haired, gruff bodyguard had been able to stop him. After that, a wolf was always on stage and there were fan arguments about which wolf was the favourite. Some people were a fan of the white wolf, probably the most distinctive of the lot. He was a habit of falling asleep and twitching as though running in a dream while on stage. Yet if there was even a single stumble or flat note from Jaskier he was up. Little did people know that Geralt had a knack for sleeping anywhere on the tour bus as long as Jaskier was within hearing distance.

Others had a marked preference for the smallest wolf. He seemed to love Jaskier with shameless honesty, always under his feet and pressing against his leg or lying on his feet. Most of the time, when Jaskier took a break between songs for a drink, he ended up having to give Lambert a tummy tickle which had him thumping his tail enthusiastically. It was Eskel who suggested doing it near the drums so Lambert’s tail got its own drum solo which turned into a real crowd-pleaser. This was no different in human form. Lambert was almost constantly on the lookout for cuddles, sitting down next to someone and slipping closer and closer until he was shamelessly sprawled over his victim. It was usually Eskel or Jaskier, only because they gave the best head pats.

Another popular one was when Eskel sat with Jaskier at gigs. He was one that the crowds took a little while to warm up to until someone pointed out he always sat with his scars facing away from the crowd. Things really turned in his favour when a microphone picked up his soft whines. And then Jaskier was taking a break from singing and shoving his microphone at Eskel and encouraging him to ‘sing’. The howl had the crowd joining in and, from then on, whenever Eskel was guarding Jaskier on stage, it could be expected that for at least one song Jaskier would trade his lines for Eskel’s howls. Even better, when they were cooped up on the tour bus and travelling, Jaskier was bored, he could grab a guitar and shove it at Eskel, teaching him how to move progressively less clumsy fingers over the frets. While not a quick student, Eskel was diligent and persistent. After a few months, he could just about strum out simple chord progressions while singing along with Jaskier.

Vesemir was the one who divided the fans the most. He didn’t do anything on stage except stare. But his eyes were constantly on Jaskier, unwavering and guarding. Some people dismissed him as the oldest of the wolves, grizzled and old looking. Boring. But his devotion was something nobody could question. He even watched Jaskier when they were out and about. While the younger bodyguards deflected crowds, Vesemir would be the one with eyes on Jaskier at all times. Nobody could snatch him from under his watchful stare.

In a way, it was inevitable that some idiot would try and ruin everyone’s fun. Jaskier was making his way to a venue when someone charged, knife in hand and screaming obscenities. The crowd screamed as Vesemir yanked Jaskier behind him while Lambert jumped at the attacker, Eskel and Geralt ready to step in while also protecting Jaskier.

“It’s your turn tonight,” Geralt snapped at Eskel. “Get them in.”

There were murmurs of someone getting hurt in the altercation and Jaskier fretted with his two wolves when neither Lambert or Geralt appeared before he was due on stage. Not willing to leave Jaskier alone, both Eskel and Vesemir followed him onto stage. The crowd went wild at the sight of not one but two wolves. They settled on either side of Jaskier, the old one staring at him while the scarred one stared out at the crowd, obviously in no mood to sing.

Three songs in, the two wolves’ attention snapped to the side of the stage and even Jaskier looked over, face softening into something sad but tender. The entire crowd fell silent as two more wolves padded in, the youngest leaning against the white one while limping, a crude, bloody bandage running over his front leg.

“Oh Lambert,” Jaskier breathed, forgetting the microphone and everything else. He approached the injured wolf who whined at him softly. Nobody dared breathe as the scarred wolf got up and moved next to Lambert, nudging him to lie down and protectively curled around him. Coos rippled through the crowd at that, it only got louder when the white wolf flopped down and the oldest joined the pile.

“Alright pups,” Jaskier rumbled softly. He stood up and turned back to the crowd with a grin. “Looks like a full house tonight!”

Attention was very much torn between Jaskier’s performance and the pile of wolves. Especially when Lambert sat up with a yawn and limped off stage. Three minutes later a human with a bandage wandered back towards the side stage, looking a little rumpled and tired. Those who could see were pointing him out, especially when the scarred wolf looked at him agitated. The first step onto the stage and the wolf covered his eyes in a very human gesture. Realising his mistake, Lambert stepped back into the shadows and a moment later a wolf limped out to join the pile again to three very judgemental looks from the other wolves.

“That’s Lambert for you,” Jaskier shrugged with a laugh. The ruse was up. “If any of you others want to introduce yourselves, you might as well.”

Walking over, Jaskier watched as Lambert shifted, a little sheepish and the crowd cheered wildly. He turned and reached for the scarred wolf who visibly rolled his eyes but a moment later a hand was grabbing Lambert’s as Eskel pulled himself up.

“Idiot,” he muttered but stayed pressed close to Lambert.

“Eskel, our wonderful singing wolf!” Jaskier introduced with a grin and squealed when someone all but tackled him, Geralt, human as could be, was rubbing against him like a wolf.

“My white wolf, Geralt.” Jaskier was purring as he gave Geralt a look that was impossible to misread as anything but love.

Grumbling, the final wolf shifted and Vesemir shook his head at the others.

“Papa wolf, where would we be without you, Vesemir?” The sweet words were met with a snort and Vesemir shifted back, settling back down into a comfortable but alert sprawl. It was an obvious suggestion and Jaskier shooed the other three to go relax in the changing rooms or stretch their legs in a run around building while he finished up.

After that, while the wolves still made appearances on the stage, the crowd now screamed their names, eager for their attention as much as Jaskier’s. And nobody ever dared try anything against Jaskier again. Especially not when he had Lambert and Eskel snuggled on stage, Lambert happily shameless in demanding attention from both of them. Only once did Eskel pounce on him playfully and they tumbled off the stage amidst growls and nips. They slunk back to Jaskier a moment later, looking sheepish and he had to stop singing to laugh at them. Videos of the incident circulated in fan groups for months on end after, admiring how the wolves both seemed to realise they were falling at the same time and seemed intent on protecting the other from the worst of the fall.

#geraskier #minor eskel/lambert #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #vesemir #witcher wolf pack #shifters #modern au #long post #tldr: jaskier gets famous and has wolf shifter bodyguards #cw: minor injury

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supimjustwriting · 4 years ago

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Learn to be Lonely

Malleus Draconia x Reader

Summary: It has been only a few days since your death. Yet it feels more like centuries. Your children have grown to young adults, Kilala and Aurora mirroring what you once were when you first met while Von was almost as tall as he was but with your eyes. You were the first outside of family to listen to him. He knew human lives were short and offered you a longer one. A longer life with you but you wanted nature to set its course. As much as it pained him. He respected your wishes. Trying his best to return to old habits.

Author’s Note: I really wanted to write a one shot with Malleus using this song. It’s just a personal favourite of mine and I can’t help but think of him while listening to it. I hope you enjoy this blooming flower.

It feels a tad rushed in my opinion. So, please do tell me how I can better improve my writing. I want to put out the best content for you guys.

It’s more like a weeping willow. Wait that’s me. To understand where the children came from. Please read Picnic Promises. Inspired by the song Learn to be Lonely ~ Phantom of the Opera Listen to the song here

The children watched their father with concern as he stood still as a statue at their mother’s grave. His lover. His wife. His life. Laid 6-feet beneath the dirt, no longer being able to laugh or smile. They’ll simply lay there in rest, returning to the earth they loved dearly.

“Grampa Lilla, shouldn’t we-” the ancient fae put a finger to Aurora’s lips, gently shushing her. Giving Von a silent nod, the heir pressed his lips to a thin line before reluctantly leading his sisters back to the carriage.

“Von, don’t you think we should’ve been there for father?” Kilala interjected once the carriage door was shut behind her. A frown painting her lips as she gazed out the window, watching her father and caretaker. “Grampa Lilla knows father better than all of us combined. We might be his children but it was mother who made him smile the most,” the youngest sighed, shaking his head. “She really was the glue that held everyone together huh?”

“That and a shield. I believe we’d all be deaf from Sebek’s lectures if it weren’t for mama stepping in,” a soft laugh escaped the three as they slowly shared stories back and forth.

“Her cooking was also the best. I’m glad she taught us a few recipes. Who’s on Lilla watch for dinner today?” Tears slipped from the oldest eyes as she forced a smile. “Well, would you look at that? Grandpa’s cooking is so scary it brought tears to my eyes.”

Von pulled both of his sisters into a reassuring squeeze as tears blurred his vision. “We’ll make it through this together. I promise,” he vowed before the trio waited in silence.

Months passed, yet normality failed to fall upon the family. They tried their best; still cracking jokes, ate dinner together, they drowned in their studies, and became the best people they could become but something was always off. Eyes would always glaze over where Y/N quipped at their jokes. While there was always an empty chair at the dinner table no one wanted to move.

Von noticed that their father left the castle more often. Always finding him at his mother's grave. Whether it be rain or shine, morning or night. The raven haired male made it part of his routine to accompany his father. Even if it just meant standing by his side for hours on end.

Sometimes, he’d hear Malleus voice utter soft memories of when he met his mother. Whether he was speaking to the tombstone or him was a mystery but Von listened intently all the same.

It was only on the 5th anniversary of Y/N’s death did Malleus’ voice become more common. If one were to cup their ear, you’d hear the male sing unheard lullabies from their childhood.

Child of the wilderness Born into emptiness Learn to be lonely Learn to find your way your way in darkness

The Draconia children listened carefully to their father's sorrowful drone, humming along softly to the nostalgic melody.

“Who will be there for you?” Aurora continued, quickly followed by Kilala and Von who sang the next verse. Their voice similar to their mothers.

Comfort and care for you? Learn to be lonely Learn to be your one companion

The girls took a seat beside their father, Kilala on Malleus’ left with Aurora on the right. Following Von’s lead, the youngest wrapped his arms around his father’s shoulders, resting his head on Malleus’ being careful of his horns as his sisters clung to their respective sides.

Tears welled up in Malleus’ green eyes. When was the last time he felt this warmth? He vaguely remembers his children holding him during the funeral. Yet it was so cold at the time. Why was it different now?

The silhouette of a woman cradling a baby in her arms while humming softly, tickled his ears and filled his vision. Her bright smile was the last thing to flash before his eyes before returning back to reality.

Hesitantly his arms wrapped around his children, giving them a soft squeeze. How could he forget?

He could never be alone again with the family Y/N left him and the wonderful memories that will forever warm his heart.

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia #Malleus Draconia #Twisted Wonderland x reader #Twisted wonderland Anemone

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ragingbookdragon · 5 years ago

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To Challenge The Flow Of Fate PT. 8

An Adrian Tepes (Alucard) x Reader Story

Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst Author’s Note: One more part and then we’re done here! Enjoy! -Thorne

The three days that followed Dracula’s death were calm as the four cleaned around the castle and recovered from injuries. Trevor wanted to leave and find a bar as soon as he’d woken up the next morning, but (Y/N) insisted that he wait a few days griping, “Look dumbass, you took like four direct hits from Dracula, you’ve obviously broken a few ribs and bruised your organs. We’ll find you a bottle of wine while you rest.” It had satiated him long enough, but on the third day, her brother insisted that they leave the next morning. (Y/N) relented, deciding to spend her final day around Adrian, not that they hadn’t been spending the prior days apart from one another. He always seemed to find her, no matter where she’d been exploring in the castle.

She slipped between the heavy double doors, entering quietly into the large room. Her eyes drifted along the floor to the walls, and she was surprised to see that it hadn’t been damaged in the slightest. The heels of her boots clicked as she walked along the marble floor, and she stopped in front of a device that made her tilt her head in confusion. (Y/N) walked around it, gently prodding the metal on the sides. She stared at it, then grinned and murmured, “I can hear you, you know.” A moment later, Adrian appeared beside her, smiling down at her.

“You’ve got good hearing (Y/N).” She nodded, then pointed at the device.

“What…is this thing?” He glanced at it, then returned,

“It’s a remembrance device.” (Y/N) looked up at him.

“A what?” Adrian reached forward and waved his hand over it, and she watched the top rise, revealing small pieces of metal surrounding a dial. It only served to confuse her more as he reached in and pressed a button. Soft music flowed through the room as the lights flipped on and (Y/N) spun around, amazement filling her as she looked around. The usual dark interior lost its grip as golden light filled the room. She turned to look at Adrian, who stood beside her, his palm outstretched to her.

“May I have this dance, Lady Belmont?” (Y/N) huffed a laugh, placing her hand in his, relishing in the feeling of him pulling her against him. She looked up at him and said,

“I can’t believe your father invented a device that remembers music.” He met her gaze and murmured,

“Actually, my mother helped him invent this…” Adrian drew his gaze around the room as they swayed. “I used to sit and watch them dance for hours.”

“Was your mother good at dancing? Because you certainly are.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“She was terrible at it. She’d step on his feet almost every dance and stammer out apologies…but…he simply smiled and led on. He…always looked so happy when they danced.” (Y/N) frowned and leaned forward, pressing her cheek to his chest. Adrian’s arms came up, tightening around her, and the two fell into silence. After a moment, (Y/N) raised her hand, laying it on his shoulder and whispered,

“The events that led us to meet were unfortunate…but…” She tilted her head, gazing up at him. “But I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant I wouldn’t meet you again.” Adrian met her gaze and swallowed thickly, breathing,

“Neither would I.” For a moment, neither said a word and (Y/N) realized they’d stopped moving as Adrian leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. She let her eyes shut as he cupped her cheek and gently tilted her chin up. When they parted, she felt him press his forehead to hers and murmur, “I would like you to stay with me…here…in the castle.” (Y/N) clenched her jaw and sighed.

“I’d love nothing more…but…we both know I can’t stay.” She opened her eyes to see him gazing back at her, then he pulled back and muttered,

“I know you can’t.” (Y/N) looked away as she untangled herself from his arms. An awkward air hung between them and she pointed to the door.

“I should go find Trevor and Sypha. Never know what trouble they’ll find if I don’t supervise.” He offered her a polite smile, and (Y/N) couldn’t get out of the ballroom fast enough. When she did find them, they were walking out of the observatory. She smiled walking up to them. “How are you two feeling?” Sypha returned her smile and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“My arm is still sore, but I’m alright.” (Y/N) eyed Trevor who tipped his head side to side.

“I can’t bend over without my ribs feeling like they’re gonna shit out my arse, so, I guess you can tell how I’m feeling.” She snorted, walking beside them as they entered the main hall. A few birds who’d been startled from their spots flew out the doors, and Sypha asked,

“What do you think he’s going to do know?” Before either of them could respond, Adrian’s voice sounded from the top of the staircase.

“I had a plan, you know.” They turned, watching as he descended the stairs. “I was going back to Gresit, return to my vault, go back to sleep.” Trevor placed a hand on his belt and asked,

“But?” Adrian moved towards them.

“If I leave the castle here…all his work is inside it. His libraries, his materials, his knowledge. What happens to all that if the structure is abandoned?” He hit the bottom of the steps and added, “I can’t just leave it here. It’d be nothing but a grave to be robbed.” He paused, then he vowed, “So, let it be my grave.” (Y/N)’s face pinched at his words, feeling the guilt crawl under her skin until Trevor countered with,

“No.” Adrian’s raised an eyebrow, tone humorful as he repeated,

“No?” Her brother nodded.

“No. We can’t move this thing.” He pointed at the Speaker beside them. “Sypha broke it.” The magician put a hand to her chest and griped,

“I did not.” Adrian glanced at her.

“You kind of did.” Sypha crossed her arms over her chest, adamantly refusing,

“I do not break things.” (Y/N) snickered, nudging the her in the side.

“You really broke this thing.” Trevor eyed the other two.

“So, we agreed she broke it.” (Y/N) and Adrian nodded.

“Oh, yes.”

“Absolutely.” Her brother looked back at the vampire.

“So, it’s staying right here, forever,” He thrust his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the Belmont home. “right on top of the Belmont Hold. Which is now also open to the world.” Trevor moved. “Up here, your father’s collected knowledge. Down there, the collected knowledge of your mother’s people. As above, so below. Both halves of you, Alucard.” Adrian cocked an eyebrow, offering,

“I’m listening.” Trevor grinned, wrapping his arm around the vampire’s shoulders as he declared,

“Behold, you sulky, half-vampire bastard. I bequeath you the Belmont Hold.” Everyone’s eyes widened at his words. “Make that and the castle your home, not your grave. Be it’s last defender.” (Y/N) peeked at Adrian, watching his features morph into pure disbelief.

“You’re…giving me your home?” Her brother nodded.

“It’s yours. My childhood home and your childhood home. Protect it. Make something out of it. Something better than a pile of ruins and a symbol of terror.” For a second, (Y/N) thought Adrian was going to cry, but then he shook his head.

“I can’t do that.” Her brows furrowed and she inquired,

“What? Why can’t you?” He looked over, scanning her face.

“Your brother might be the oldest, but that is still your home too. It wouldn’t be right for me to take that from you.” (Y/N) felt her heart warm at his thoughtfulness and she leaned over, coaxing,

“Tell you what, if you let me come back whenever I want to read all the books I want, then I’d be okay with giving it to you. Sound fair?” Adrian opened his mouth to refute, but an arched eyebrow from (Y/N) told him that she wasn’t just asking to come back to read the books, she was asking to come back to him. He sighed, a small smile crossing his lips as he nodded.

“Alright…that’s fair.” (Y/N) squeezed his arm then pulled away, bowing slightly she affirmed,

“Then Adrian Tepes, as the last owner of the Belmont Hold, I, (Y/N) Belmont, hereby entrust all that it is, and all that it will ever be, to you.” Adrian’s face lit up at her at her words, his smile broad and full of joy, making her heart sing.

“I-I don’t…thank you (Y/N).” He bowed his head slightly and she leaned down, quipping,

“Oh my god, are you crying?” Adrian brought his hand up, rubbing at his eyes.

“No, I’m not crying.” (Y/N) smirked and glanced at Trevor, joking,

“You better get a good look brother of mine. I don’t think you’re going to see such a comedic scene for an awfully long time.” Trevor matched her evil look, crossing placing his hands on his hips quipping,

“All the times I’ve made an ass of myself are so worth being able to see this.” Adrian glared at the siblings, then Sypha clapped her hands.

“Come on you three, let’s go get something to eat.” The four, well, Trevor and Adrian, started to argue while they trekked to the kitchen, Sypha and (Y/N) simply rolling their eyes.

The Next Morning:

Her heart felt heavy as she helped Trevor stack their belongings into the wagon. She and Adrian hadn’t spoken alone since her brother and Sypha had gone off the afternoon before, and their conversation had been awkward even then. She paused, holding the bag in her arms as she stared at the back. A gentle nudge brought her back and she looked over, seeing Trevor staring back at her. “You sure you wanna come?” (Y/N) cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you talking about? Of course I want to.” She looked between Sypha and Adrian who were quietly talking. “Someone has to make sure that you two stay out of trouble.” Her brother looked like he had something to say, but he opted not to speak on it, instead, he took the last pack from her, tossing it into the back before turning to look at the Speaker.

“Sypha…we’re ready.” The magician turned around and nodded, and Adrian walked them to the front of the wagon, helping Sypha up. He glanced down at (Y/N), questioning,

“Are you sitting up there as well?” She shook her head.

“No, I’m getting into the back.” He nodded.

“Then I’ll help you up too.” Adrian directed his gaze to Trevor, who offered him a small smile and a wave. The vampire smiled, then it turned into a smirk as he flipped her brother off. Trevor’s face dropped and he scoffed,

“Ah, fuck you.” The women laughed, and Adrian walked (Y/N) to the back where the two looked at one another, neither moving. She took a deep breath, then asked,

“I hope you’ll keep a room waiting for me. You never know when I might decide to drop in.” Adrian took her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles.

“I’ll keep them all waiting for you if it means you’ll drop in sooner.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“Don’t say something like that…I might never leave when I come back.” He met her gaze, golden eyes dead serious.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.” A smile grew across her face, but it turned into a scowl as Trevor coughed dramatically. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, then glanced over her shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” She turned back to the vampire and leaned over, pressing her lips to his cheek. He helped her into the wagon, and she murmured, “Wait for me Adrian Tepes…I’ll be home soon.” Adrian’s eyes widened, then he smiled, nodding his head.

“I eagerly await your return (Y/N) Belmont.” She grinned at him as she knocked against the bed, feeling it lurch as the wagon moved forward. (Y/N) didn’t shift her gaze from Adrian, even until he was a small speck in the distance. When he disappeared completely, she curled up into the bed of the wagon and buried her face into her knees, her heart breaking with each minute that passed.

#adrian tepes imagines #adrian tepes imagine #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x reader imagines #adrian tepes x reader imagine #adrian tepes #alucard #trevor belmont #sypha belnades #lisa tepes #vlad dracula tepes #castlevania #castlevania imagine #castlevania imagines #castlevania fanfiction

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anotherkpopvictim · 5 years ago

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The Scents of Us - Hoseok X Jungkook X Jimin X Taehyung A/B/O and Littlespace Drabble

(gif source - me, use if you would like hehe)

“anonymous asked: OKAY!!!! You could try something similar to this story with alpha Jimin or Taehyung and omega hoseok and jungkook; a03 works 21424750 but not exactly the same!!!!”

A/N: This is my first time delving into writing a fic in the a/b/o universe. Please let me know what you guys think and if you would like to see more stories like this from me.

After drawing inspiration from the story, I decided to go with alpha Jimin AND Taehyung, and omega Jungkook and Hoseok. I focused this story on the impact emotions have on their scents, as you could maybe guess from the title. It’s something that I’ve always found fascinating while reading A/B/O stories. Like, could you imagine if everyone had a prominent scent that became bitter or sweet depending on their emotions? That would be cool as heck, dude.

Here you go, I hope you like it!!!

Relationship: Omega!Hoseok X Omega!Jungkook X Alpha!Jimin X Alpha!Taehyung

Rating: T (panic attack)

Words: 3026

Hurt/comfort, fluff

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING: In this universe, omegas are naturally submissive and while they can live independently, they usually prefer to stay with an alpha as they can sometimes fall into deep headspaces (sometimes little space) and need guidance.

Warnings: There is a pretty detailed panic attack in this story, so please do not read if that triggers you in any way. Also, there is kissing while in littlespace, but it’s just a simple kiss, nothing crazy.

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Jimin, quite frankly, was exhausted.

Working as a nurse meant he was used to long shifts and the fatigue that came along with them, but after a double shift he was all but a zombie dragging his feet from the car park and up to his upscale apartment.

As he stuck the key in the lock and let himself in, he was surprised that he wasn’t greeted by his three boyfriends (who would probably get after him for driving home in the state he was in) and instead was met with the heart-wrenching sound of Hoseok crying and bitter scent of distress and anger clouding the air around him.

The sound and smell awoke the alpha in him, all previous thoughts of tiredness gone from his mind.

Jimin toed off his shoes quickly and started hurrying his way through the apartment, following the sobs to the bedroom. “Tae? Hobi-hyung? Kook?”

Just as he reached the doorway, a frazzled Taehyung appeared, his hair ruffled and his breathing heavy. What really caught the other alpha’s eye was the deep, blood red of his boyfriend’s irises, indicating that he was angry and confused. All Jimin could smell now was the smokey musk of a burning forest - Taehyung’s normal pine scent ablaze with emotion.

The red in his eyes quickly faded back to its normal chocolate brown as Taehyung let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god you’re here.”

“What’s going on?” Jimin asked, his tone soft as he approached the other. His hands moved automatically to Taehyung’s shoulders to give him a comforting touch. “Did something happen?”

“Jungkook’s been rude to Hoseok-hyung all day and he was on his last warning with me when he decided to push Hoseok into the table a few minutes ago,” Taehyung grumbled. “Kook ran into the dance studio and Hoseokie locked himself in the bathroom.”

“Okay, do you want me to talk with Kookie so you can calm down?” the older alpha questioned.

Taehyung shook his head, “I can handle myself. I’ll talk to him.”

Jimin nodded, “Alright. I’ll see to Hoseokie. Does he have any injuries?”

“His back,” Taehyung replied, “That’s where he hit the table the hardest. I didn’t get a good look at it yet. Oh, and the fall caused him to slip into littlespace.”

The older alpha hummed in affirmation and then leaned in to press a kiss to the younger’s lips. Jimin trailed his right hand down to Taehyung’s and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Take a deep breath, baby. Our omegas are going to be just fine.”

The two quickly split ways and Jimin approached the locked bathroom door. “Hoseokie?” he called out gently, “Sweetheart, it’s Jiminie-hyung. I’m home, love. Can you open the door for me?”

He heard the sobs quiet down a bit and then some shuffling noises before the door clicked and it flew open to reveal a teary-eyed Hoseok. “Hyungie!” he cried, tossing his arms around his alpha’s shoulders before burying his nose in his neck. He inhaled the calming scent of ocean breeze and allowed it to relax him.

“I heard you had a hard day, baby,” Jimin said, rubbing his hands up and down the other’s back softly as to not irritate any potential injuries. “It’s okay now. Can you show me your booboos?”

Hoseok pulled back just enough to be able to look up at Jimin and pouted, “Seokie’s back hurts, hyungie!”

“Does anywhere else hurt?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Alright, hyung’s gonna take a look. Let’s go to the bedroom and have you lay on your stomach, okay?” Jimin said.

Hoseok nodded and waddled with him to the four’s shared bedroom. The omega wasted no time following Jimin’s instructions, laying down carefully on the bed.

“Good boy,” Jimin praised, “I’m going to lift up your shirt for a moment, love.”

Removing the fabric exposed a small, red welt on the right side of Hoseok’s back. It looked like it stung, and the alpha could see it already beginning to turn purple as it bruised.

“Oh, baby. It’s only a small booboo but I’m sure it hurts.”

Hoseok sniffled, “D-Do you think Booboo Bunny can make it feel better?”

Jimin, despite feeling his heart sink at the other’s injury, couldn’t help but smile at his omega.

Booboo Bunny was a tea towel folded and tied in some places with rubber bands to resemble the shape of a rabbit. It had added googly eyes hot-glued onto its “face” for effect, and space in its middle to hold ice. It was a creative alternative to frozen peas created by Taehyung a few months earlier. All four of them have never stopped using it since - big or little.

“I think he can,” Jimin confirmed, “I’m gonna go grab him and I’ll be right back.”

Hoseok really didn’t want his hyungie to leave, but knew that he needed to go. The omega pouted and began singing under his breath in hopes that it would make the time go by faster.

When the alpha finally returned, he came bearing Booboo Bunny, who had some ice ready to hopefully take down the swelling and help the worst of the bruise.

Hoseok let out a little yelp when the coldness first touched his skin, but he settled quickly once he found that the ice numbed the area that was in so much pain.

“There, is that feeling a little better, sweetheart?” Jimin asked.

The omega nodded, letting out a sigh as he relaxed into the bed further. Jimin could smell the distress that was previously clouding the air dissipate until all that was left was Hoseok’s familiar, sweet scent of cinnamon buns.

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Jungkook hadn’t meant to let things get so far out of hand. One second he was overcome with anger towards his omega boyfriend who looked hurt and confused, and the next moment he had pushed Hoseok. Now, the push itself wasn’t necessarily that harsh, but the coffee table was right behind the older omega’s legs, so when he was pushed, he tripped over and hit the edge of the table with a bang.

Hoseok let out a cry of pain and Jungkook’s entire body felt numb. The older omega rolled over on the floor and reached to touch his back, where Jungkook was sure he was hurt.

“Jeon Jungkook!” a bellowing voice called. The youngest could only watch with wide eyes as Taehyung came in from the kitchen at the sound of crying and hurried to kneel by Hoseok’s side. “What did you do?”

Jungkook couldn’t answer. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and his mind was running too fast to do anything but stare at the horror he’d caused. He watched as the alpha attempted to calm the oldest down, talking softly and touching his shoulder soothingly. It made Jungkook feel sick.

With the feeling back in his limbs, Jungkook took off out of the room, sprinting down the hall. He barely managed to shut the dance studio door behind him before he was hyperventilating. He wheezed and reached up to clutch at his tight throat as his knees gave out beneath him. The omega slumped to the ground just inside the door, his head spinning as his body tried its best to get in a sufficient amount of air.

How could he be so selfish? How could he do that to his hyung who hadn’t done anything wrong? The older omega couldn’t help that their alphas loved him more than they loved Jungkook.

Why would their alphas even want to keep a disgusting, thoughtless omega like Jungkook around anyway?

The whirlwind of insecurities played on a loop in his head, taking over all of the omega’s senses until he couldn’t feel the ground beneath him. Jungkook felt like he was simultaneously suspended in mid-air, floating, and strapped tightly to something, unable to move.

He saw Hoseok’s crying face again, heard the anger in Taehyung’s voice when he came into the room.

Stupid. Selfish. Worthless.

Stupid. Selfish-

“Jungkookie, baby, come back to me,” a voice interrupted Jungkook’s blaring thoughts. The voice was familiar and deep, the satiny tone slowly pulling Jungkook back to reality. “Focus on me, focus on my voice.”

The omega listened, followed the instructions of his savior.

“Can you feel my hand squeezing yours, sweetheart?” Yes, Jungkook could feel it. “Can you feel the floor? It’s probably kind of cold.” Now that he mentioned it, yes, Jungkook could feel that too. He could even feel the aching of his ribs as he gasped for air.

As the omega slowly came back to his body, he let out a pained whine. He could gently squeeze the other’s hand back now and he could move his limbs again.

The crisp scent of pine filled Jungkook’s nostrils, grounding the omega. Jungkook only related that scent to one thing - Taehyung. His alpha’s scent could calm him down even in the worst of times, like now.

“There you go, that’s a good boy,” the voice crooned. Taehyung - it was Taehyung’s voice. “Now I want you to try following my breathing, okay? In for four...hold for seven...out for eight...”

Jungkook did his best to follow along, but it took a few minutes to bring his heart rate down. The ache in his ribs slowly lessened and his breath came a little easier.

The omega’s eyes fluttered open and settled on the angelic man sitting on the floor beside him.

Taehyung smiled softly, knowingly. “Got stuck in your thoughts again, huh, love?”

“Kookie’s a bad boy. Kookie hurt hyungie. Kookie is a meanie,” the omega said shakily, tears already trailing down his cheeks.

“Well, it isn’t nice to push people into tables, or to be disrespectful and rude to them all day,” Taehyung said.

Jungkook choked on a sob and looked away from his hyung, “N-No, it’s not.”

“But,” Taehyung continued, “That doesn’t mean that you’re a bad boy. I think you’re a good boy who made some mistakes because of whatever is going on inside his head.”

The younger wanted to agree, but he also didn’t feel like he deserved being called a good boy.

“So why did you do that, love? What’s happening in that head of yours?” the way the alpha talked softly told him that he was no longer angry, just worried. They all knew that a panic attack was punishment enough for whatever he’d done wrong.

The omega sniffled, “Jiminie-hyungie and TaeTae-hyungie love Hoseokie more than Kookie.”

“What?” Taehyung exclaimed, eyebrows raised in surprise. “Oh, baby, no! We love you just as much as Hoseokie. What gave you such an idea?”

“Kookie heard hyungies talking ‘bout how much they liked the time before they’d met Jungkook,” the younger confessed. “A-And Jiminie-hyungie hasn’t given Kookie kisses since last F-Friday! That’s five whole days! A-And Kookie keeps trying to be good for TaeTae-hyungie, but he keeps making him mad! And now he hurt Hoseokie-hyungie! That’s the worst part!”

Taehyung pulled the younger into his lap and guided his head to his neck where Jungkook could nuzzle at the scent glands there. “Love, Hoseokie is going to be okay. He’s going to have a little bruise, but he is going to be okay.”

The younger didn’t seem to believe him.

The alpha bit his lip as he contemplated his next words. Jungkook obviously had everything all wrong in his mind, what does he start addressing first?

After a short pause, Taehyung spoke up again. “I think we need to go have a talk with him and Jiminie, hmm?”

The alpha didn’t wait for an answer before he helped Jungkook walk out of the dance room and back down the hallway on wobbly legs. They stopped at the open door to their shared bedroom and peeked in to see their two boyfriends cuddling on the bed, looking surprisingly calm and comfortable considering the situation that just happened.

As they entered the room, Jungkook spotted BooBoo Bunny on the bedside table and knew that Hoseok must have used it. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe again. “H-Hoseokie, ‘M sorry! Kookie’s sorry!” Jungkook bolted over to the bed but paused when he was a foot away, arms outstretched. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch him anymore after what he’d done.

The older omega seemed to understand this and opened up his arms in invitation. “Come here, Kookie,” he replied. The maknae was surprised that Hoseok had slipped out of littlespace. His hyung pulled him into an embrace and kissed his cheeks reassuringly. “You’re forgiven, Kookie. I’m not mad. I need you to take some deep breaths for me.”

Only then did the younger omega notice that he was working himself up again, his breathing nearing hyperventilation. “O-Oh.” Jungkook did his best to follow his hyung’s instructions, not wanting a repeat of his panic attack earlier.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Jimin shifted closer to them on the bed and touched the maknae’s shoulder gently. “Sweetheart, why were you acting up today?”

“That’s what we came to talk about,” Taehyung announced as he found himself an open spot to sit on the edge of the bed. “Tell them what you told me, love.”

Jungkook fidgeted in Hoseok’s lap, his eyes diverting to his suddenly extremely interesting sweatpants. “TaeTae-hyungie and Jiminie-hyungie love Hoseokie-hyungie more than Kookie,” he recited his earlier words abashedly.

“WHAT?!” both Hoseok and Jimin gasped.

Jungkook whimpered and crawled away, only to find himself curled up against Taehyung’s chest a moment later. The alpha soothed the youngest by pressing his nose to his neck, allowing him to inhale the calming scent of pine once more.

“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” Taehyung explained to the others, “Jungkookie here heard us speaking about how much we liked our college days - our days before he was with us.”

“Oh, Jungkookie, no!” Jimin started, suddenly realizing where the maknae’s thoughts had gone. “We weren’t saying that we liked it because you weren’t there, sweetheart, we were just talking about how we had some good times.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok continued, “We had some more free time back then, and we could go on trips more often. We were thinking about maybe planning another one, except it would be better this time because we could bring our Jungkookie with us.”

The omega cuddled up to Taehyung’s chest slowly digested the explanation from his hyungs. Jungkook should have known that his boyfriends loved him, but he’d always been a little insecure and those insecurities were too loud in his head sometimes.

“B-But,” Jungkook sniffled, lifting his head to look at his two oldest hyungs. “Jiminie-hyungie hasn’t given Kookie kisses in forever! A-And Kookie was really mean to Hoseokie.”

“I already told you, Kookie, you’re forgiven,” Hoseok said softly.

Jungkook felt tears well up in his eyes once more and his bottom lip began trembling, this time in overwhelming relief and not any bad emotions. He launched himself back into the older omega’s lap, wrapping his arms around Hoseok’s neck and scenting him apologetically.

Jimin had frozen at the youngest’s words, shocked. Surely, he had to be exaggerating, right? It hadn’t been that long since he’d last given his boyfriend a proper kiss. It had only been...three...four...five days?!

Guilt overwhelmed him before he felt Taehyung’s soothing touch on his shoulder. The younger alpha could always read him so easily. Jimin gave him a small smile of thanks before turning back to their two omegas who were curled up together.

“Kookie, love,” Jimin began, “Can you come here, please?”

The omega in question sat up and gave Hoseok a final kiss on the cheek before moving hesitantly towards Jimin. Taehyung urged Jungkook into the other alpha’s lap, assuring him that everything was okay.

“You’re right, Jungkookie. I haven’t kissed you in forever,” Jimin admitted, apologetic.

Jungkook nodded sadly, “Kookie don’t know why hyung don’t want to kiss him anymore.”

“Oh, baby, I do. I do want to kiss you,” Jimin assured. “I’ve taken so many shifts at the hospital that I can barely think of anything but work. I can’t believe I forgot to kiss you for so long, love.”

“So hyungie does still love Kookie?” the omega inquired, perking up hopefully.

Instead of answering with words, Jimin surged forward and captured the youngest omega’s lips with his own. Jungkook squealed in surprise but quickly melted into the kiss, his hands settling on the older’s shoulders.

Ever since he’d gotten home, Jungkook’s scent had been drowned out by his fear and anxiety, and only now did those emotions subside. His natural scent of sweet, juicy peaches could finally be smelled once more. All three of his boyfriends could relax now that they were all settled, their scents happy and comfortable.

Before things could get to heated, Jimin pulled away from the younger, grinning at the whine of protest that left Jungkook’s lips as he did so. “Later, baby.”

Hoseok and Taehyung joined the two of them as they cuddled together under the covers, nothing but a mess of tangled limbs.

“Never forget that we love you, Kookie,” Jimin said gently.

Hoseok hummed from where his face was pressed against Taehyung’s neck. “We love you so much.”

“Next time you feel like that, tell us, okay?” Taehyung added, kissing Jungkook’s hair.

“Okay,” Jungkook replied, snuggling closer into the arms around him. “Love you, hyungies.”

“Love you too, Kookie.”

“Love you, bunny.”

“Love you forever, sweetheart.”

They laid together for a while, not quite sleeping as the sun set outside the window. Jimin was the only one that actually did fall asleep, though it was only for about two hours before he woke up again to his boyfriends talking quietly.

Jimin then took it upon himself to start dinner (very reluctantly, mind you) while the other three snuggled in bed and continued to nuzzle each other’s necks.

Their scents were all so different, yet somehow were most divine when they were mixed together. Jungkook’s sweet peach scent complimented Hoseok’s of freshly-baked cinnamon buns, Jimin’s gentle smell of an ocean breeze, and Taehyung’s fresh pine. An odd combination, but they somehow made it work.

It was something that was simply...them.

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A/N: man, this took me forever to finish. Sorry it took so long. Thank you to the person who requested this who put up with my writer’s block. I hope it was worth the wait.

Also, did anyone else have a Booboo Bunny as a kid? Because I did and I loved it a lot. I wonder if it was a common thing.

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zedpercyfan · 5 years ago

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The Sirens of Cerulean | Part One

A City in the Fog

A thick fog was out one cold late afternoon along the Cerulean coast; it hung and swirled. One of Cerulean City’s oldest structures, an ancient white lighthouse, stood atop a cliff, standing as a guardian to guide ships away from the perils of the rocks below.

Tracey Sketchit was the lighthouse’s current keeper, the original one having retired some years back, leaving the position open. Tracey had been without much of a consistent job and took it since the pay was so good, plus it came with housing attached. There was also plenty of Pokémon that passed, and the occasional wandering Trainer that could keep him company or let him draw them and their Pokémon, a favorite pastime of his.

The black-haired man sighed, it was afternoon and he was bored as he finished sipping his tea. He grabbed his sketchbook, wandered upstairs and went outside to the balcony – the wind rustled his clothes and hair as he stood. “Right, anything that wants to be drawn…?” he thought aloud. Some migrating Wingull roosted nearby amongst the usual coast residents of Pidgeys, its evolutions, and the local Corsolas, Poliwags, and others that lived there. Tracey smiled, and began to scribble away as his Marill joined alongside him.

He continued his penmanship until a low, soft, feminine voice was heard, a kind of singing. Tracey’s hand stopped, and rested the thick book against the wet, rusted railing. He scratched his chin thoughtfully whilst Marill blinked in wonderment, her mouth agape. He pointed a finger toward the ocean. “Y’know,” said Tracey. “I really do think that they’re out there.” Marill looked over, eyebrow raised. “Well, you know what I mean.” He leaned in and whispered. “Come on…I know that you can feel their presence as well…”

He did not get an answer, as Marill was looking out towards the fog covered ocean where the voice could be heard. Tracey looked down, only to see that down below, the Pokémon looked the exact same way. The man blinked but said nothing. He just followed their gaze and remained silent as they all peered into the wispy soup.

OoOoO

Later that afternoon, a young man of about his mid-twenties came slowly trudging along the dirt path from the nearby forest. With a Pikachu resting on his shoulder, the man walked with a carefree nature, his black shirt and pants were simple, but what was most strange of all was that he had a dark blue coat – almost like a cape – on him for warmth.

He seemed to wander aimlessly till he heard a sultry sound, it carried along the breeze. It was delicate yet packed a pleasant spine chilling evocation with it. “Wow, that’s some voice,” he said, mildly awed. He looked to his Pikachu. “What do you say, buddy? Shall we follow this strange but alluring voice?”

“Pi Pikachu!” squeaked the mouse in agreement. Ash hummed in agreement.

He followed against the sea breeze till he reached the water – his feet stopping as soon as he felt rock beneath him. He looked out across the rocks where the sea met land. “So this is Cerulean City?” he said. “Well, the air is salty enough for it.” He shivered in the breeze and began to notice that the light was fading. “Almost nightfall…can’t stay out here. Brr…” Pikachu whimpered and buried himself in his Master’s cloak. He looked around and saw the giant lighthouse to his left, behind it stood the city itself. Slowly and carefully, he began to trudge toward it.

A short walk later he reached the city and found his way to an inn. A rather shabby looking place built out of grey stone. The raven haired man wandered in and tapped the bell for service. “Coming!” a voice yelled. A girl who looked barely past nineteen came sprinting from a room behind the counter before she nearly impaled herself on the wooden desk; her hands saved her as they reached out to stop her from the accident. She had dark blue hair which flowed all over her face from the inertia.

“Careful,” chuckled the traveler. “It’s not a race.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” said the girl as she pushed her hair back into place behind her ears. “Right…welcome to the Cerulean Playhouse Inn, I’m your host, Dawn Berlitz! How may I help you today?”

“Cerulean…P-playhouse…Inn…? Eh?”

“Pi pika…”

“Cerulean Playhouse Inn,” repeated Dawn. “This was once the site of an old theater, some of the old framework was used to create this place a hundred years ago. As a gesture of hospitality, I love to entertain the guests daily with a Pokémon performance. You know, like a Pokémon Contest.”

“Ah, I see, sounds great,” the man said.

“Good to hear!” chirped Dawn with a sway of her head. “Anyways, what’s your need here?”

“I’d like a room, stay time indeterminate,” he said. “I’m Ash by the way, Ash Ketchum.”

“Ash Ketchum,” repeated Dawn as she scribbled his name down. “Um, why ‘indeterminate’?” Ash flinched.

“Just trust me. I’m a little in the dark on the matter myself.”

“I think I get it…” said Dawn with a nervous chuckle. They continued the paperwork and Dawn soon finished up. “Right,” she said, holding a hand out to the doorway on her left, “if you’ll just follow me sir, we’ll be at your room.”

Ash followed her, but just as Dawn began to go up the stairs, a man with blond hair suddenly stomped into view on the upstairs landing and looked down at Ash grimly. “Hey, what’s the big idea?!” he shouted. Dawn pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.

“Barry, he’s a customer, he’s not here to steal your glory as a Pokémon trainer or…”

“Oh yeah!? Well, if he is after my glory then I’m tripling his fine!”

Ash blinked. “Triple my fine? I’m broke enough as it is…”

“Oh no, Mr. Black Hair show off! You’re not stealing any of my glory. Me and Empoleon shall crush you, and—”

“Barry!” shouted Dawn. “As if anything like that has to do with anything!”

“Oh yes it does!” replied Barry with an accusatory finger. He slammed the railing with both of his hands, fumes practically roaring from his nostrils. “You listen here, tough guy! This establishment has tons of trainers staying here overnight every day! They’re in, they’re out. Take the hint! We don’t have the room to house some dude who says he doesn’t know how long he’ll be here! Honestly…!” And he stormed off.

Dawn gritted her teeth. “Ignore him,” she said as looked back at him. Ash could only grimace at her unsubtle twitching eyebrow. He could only imagine that what that ‘Barry’ had said wasn’t close to the tip of Dawn’s iceberg.

“R-right…”

Dawn said no more on the matter and lead – with noticeable irritation – Ash into his assigned room. She was about to leave when…

“Excuse, Dawn?” began Ash. “But may I ask a question of you?”

“Sure thing – what do you need to know?”

“Well, to start. How long have you been here?”

“For over half of my life,” replied Dawn. “My Mother and I moved here from the Sinnoh region to have a fresher start.”

“I see. Then tell me – what do you know of the Cerulean Sirens?”

Dawn’s originally polite countenance fell to an uncertain one. “The Sirens…?” she muttered. “Not sure in all honesty. But every time a major fog comes rolling in we hear these strange sounds coming from the ocean. There have been rumors, you see, about how the Sirens use the fog to sneak about and intermingle with us humans once we’ve gone and lost ourselves in the soup.”

“Yeah, it would seem right for them given their descriptions,” said Ash. “But, tell me, do you believe they exist?”

The bluenette tapped her chin in thought. “I guess. Though I’d much rather meet one than go on believing simple fishermen’s tales.”

Ash nodded. “Just curious,” he added, by way of deflecting any questions about why he had asked. “Good night.”

“Good night,” said Dawn with a bow. She turned back and closed his door. Once Ash was sure she was out of earshot, he walked to the window and opened it. For the second time that evening, a strange melody filled the air – soft yet powerful, calming yet unnerving.

OoOoO

It won’t lift for anytime soon it seems, thought Tracey as he stared in boredom out of the observation window the tune the only thing keeping him amused – he then blew the foghorn once again before stepping out to the balcony. When he did he heard strange splashing sounds from below. He scanned the area but saw nothing. Must be a Pokémon…

It was only the fog that covered the mysterious singer…

Beneath the fog and cold waves a few figures swam up to the surface and looked around. Soon enough they heard the same low song that Ash and Tracey were listening to, they nodded to each other before diving back under the water.

Deep in the water some few miles away from Cerulean they approached a strange civilization made of stone bricks. The two figures swam towards the largest building, protected by two other figures holding tridents, one of whom gave the scouts a stern look before nodding. Inside, the scouts approached a brown-haired figure whose tail flicked back and forth, arms crossed in front of his chest in impatience.

“We overheard the enemy singing out again,” said one, “and as usual, it was directed toward the ape primitives.”

The brown hair figure’s frown deepened. “Ever the persistent ones, those harpies,” he sneered. “I swear, when we’re done we won’t ever have to hear our vocals ever directed at those despicable apes ever again!”

OoOoO

“ ‘Well why shouldn’t we?!’ is what we’re obviously yelling to them,” huffed a pink-haired figure. She was talking to another one with blue hair, who was sitting next to one with orange hair. “They deserve it, the bratty troublemakers.”

“It’s all changed since our old ruler passed away,” the orange head said with a sigh. “Speaking on the topic of ‘why shouldn’t we’ – where’s Daisy?”

“You called?” said the woman in question. A beautiful blond woman swam elegantly in, her appearance above all else being even more beautiful than her three sisters’. But to call them just humans would be inaccurate – they were Sirens, or to put more simply with terms associated with fantasy, mermaids.

“Yes actually,” put in Lily, the pink-haired one. “We were actually wondering where in you’d gone.”

Daisy swam up the table they were sitting around and grabbed a piece of coral and took a bite out of it. “Just out singing,” she said nonchalantly.

“Singing where?” asked Violet, the blue-haired one.

“Y’know, out on the ocean,” replied Daisy as she avoided eye contact. She began chewing more on her food, this time far more aggressively.

“You were out singing for that lighthouse guy, weren’t you?” said Lily finally. Daisy choked on a piece of the coral fruit. “Knew it!” she sang victoriously, pumping a fist into the water.

“That’s dangerous, you know,” said Misty, the orange-haired, and youngest of the four sisters. “You’re lucky the fogs about. Why do you risk yourself so much just to sing for a guy?”

Daisy recovered from her cough. “You wouldn’t understand, Misty,” she said.

“I think I understand that we’re in enough hot water as it is with the rest of our kind!”

“But,” said Violet pointedly, “you did join us willingly in our stand against Rudy when he became ruler.”

“Y-yes, I did,” said Misty. She looked to Daisy. “I’m just worried about your safety. Not because of the humans but just in case any of Rudy’s thugs goes and finds you.”

“Ha ha! Misty, you worry too much,” said Daisy. “Those silly Sirens wouldn’t go near the human’s settlement unless they were ordered to, and we’re settled too close to them to make threatening us an impossible reality.”

“The pure amount of phobia they have is as sensible as staring into the sun,” Misty muttered. She then yawned. “Well, I’m tired, so I’ll be going to sleep. Come along, Goldeen. Night all.” Her Pokémon partner opened her eyes and quickly swam after her short-haired mistress. Daisy watched her disappear into the cave.

“I think,” she said to no one in particularly, “that that girl could do with something new in her life.”

OoOoO

“It’s quite easy, Dawn,” grumbled Barry as they walked through the hallways. “Just go up to him, say ‘Thank you for your partro-patro…PATRONAGE, at Cerulean Playhouse Inn, but we only do one-night stays, so please have yourself a good stay in this city, and get out!’ It’s easy!”

“Oh cool off,” sneered Dawn. “What’s the harm in him staying for more than one night?”

“It’s the principle,” said Barry pompously. “We serve travelers, not tourists.”

“Ash is hardly a tourist,” said Dawn evenly.

“Oh, taking his side now are we?”

“Not even close. I just don’t think that there is any harm in letting him stay. Besides, it’s hardly written down that we only serve for one night here.”

Barry didn’t immediately reply, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned towards another corridor. He huffed heavily. “You’re the one defending him.”

“Only because he’s a nice man, unlike you! Your antagonism to him last night was hardly warranted.”

“Oh just do what you want,” sighed Barry, walking away.

“Honestly,” said Dawn aside before looking in Barry’s direction. “I swear, I could make a living out of dealing with stubborn men like you!”

Just up above, Ash had finished getting ready for his day, in his hand was a strange book, the condition of its binding suggested it was of elderly age. With the book safely in his arms, and Pikachu on the opposite shoulder, he arrived at the top of the second floor landing in time to hear the last part of Dawn and Barry’s spat.

“Ugh!” shouted Dawn in frustration. “Stubborn brat, he should be thankful I even give him as many chances to keep working here as I do!”

“Hah!” said Ash suddenly. Dawn blinked in surprise and whirled round to see Ash beginning to go down the stairs. “Tell us how you really feel.”

Dawn sighed. “He’s only in it for the money, and his work effort is subpar, but he’s a decent hustle in the case of ruffians showing up.” She paused and noticed the strange book. “Oh, what’s that about?”

“This? Ah, just some research I plan on looking into.”

“Is it to do with Sirens?”

“Um – er – well…” Ash slowly crept up to Dawn and leaned in. “Well, yes, it does actually.”

“Wow! Really?! Or are you just pulling an elaborate prank because you think of me as someone who’d believe anything?!”

“What? No, no, no, not at all!” cried Ash in alarm as he stepped back.

Dawn quickly calmed down. Ash could only marvel at the wonder of a woman’s mood swings. “All right then – prove you’re actually on to something.”

Ash sighed and beckoned her closer. He then held out a hand and it began to glow in a blue color in a shape that Dawn could only describe as a ball, then, he made it disappear. Before she could speak, he spoke up. “I’m an Aura user,” he said in a hushed tone. “The society I belong to recently has felt some strange spikes and stagnations coming from this area. However, we really don’t know what’s causing them since those signals are coming from way out on the ocean. What we suspect is that the rumors going around about the actual existence of the Sirens might just be true.”

“So…they might actually exist?”

“Might is an accurate word for this situation,” he replied. “The legends spoke of them being able to harness a great power and channel it through various methods with their advanced technology that’s incomparable to our very own. But…” he added with uncertainty, “again, we just don’t have any confirmation.”

Dawn mulled the situation over, all of the info she got was quite shocking to her and she was struggling to comprehend it all, but he said it all with such conviction that she fully believed it. “So, what you’re saying is, is that there appears to be trouble, but it’s only a theory?”

“Yeah, it’s only an idea. I have no idea until I finally know what’s happening.”

“Wait though!” said Dawn as realization came to her. “If we’re in danger, shouldn’t the citizens know about it…?”

“Shh! Shh!” said Ash sharply. He brought a finger to Dawn’s lips. “As I said, it’s just an idea. No one else can know why I’m here, at least not until I know exactly what’s going on here. Dawn,” he added quietly. “Can I trust you to not say a word about this anyone else? Extra people knowing what’s happening might cause more trouble than necessary.” Dawn’s eyes widened, Ash didn’t seem to be playing light anymore, his look was extremely serious – whatever it was that he was looking into, it wasn’t a dead end. She nodded affirmatively. “Good.” Ash smiled, and then quickly took his leave into the misty city.

OoOoO

“…Wake up! Wake up!” came a prattling voice on the other end of her seaweed curtain. Misty groaned and got up from the shell that was her bed.

“What do you need, Daisy?” she asked sleepily.

“It’s already eight o’clock actually!” said Daisy cheerily. “So, like, it’s you who should’ve been up a while ago missy. Anyways…!” Daisy then invited herself into her sister’s room. “I was, like, thinking that you could do with a routine change, so come with me!”

“Go with you where…?”

“Oh, just around the reef. It’s been too long since we’ve spent time together – you really got to wonder where time flies.”

“That time took flight as a result of you disappearing of somewhere quite regularly recently…” said Misty sarcastically.

“Oh lighten up,” sang Daisy, and swam off with Misty reluctantly following.

Along the waves, Daisy saw a male Siren swimming a few yards away from where she and Misty were travelling. The male frowned when he saw the two approaching. “And just where are you two ladies off to at this hour?” he asked cautiously.

“Morning to you too, Sean,” replied Daisy crisply.

“You’ve got some nerve being snippy,” grumbled Sean. “You’re the ones who went and defected – your pitiful resistance group lives pathetically. Honestly, your opinions are all insane.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinions at all,” answered Daisy. “I’ll ask when I want an idiot’s position.” And she quickly swam off.

“Nicely handled,” praised Misty when they were out of earshot.

“You get used to it when you’re on the defending side,” said Daisy with a smile. “Anyways, this is your surprise.” She pointed towards the surface of the ocean, though the light looked more fractured than usual.

“Huh, a storm might be passing by,” observed Misty.

“Yeah, I felt it in the waves,” added Daisy. “But all the same, you’ll really like what I’m about to show you.” Before Misty could voice an opinion, Daisy grabbed her by the wrist and pull her up to the surface, the area they were was covered with rocks, one of which the blond rested herself against.

“Ugh! The surface?” coughed Misty. “What is it from here that you’d want me to see?”

“Take a look.” The orange head opened her eyes and gazed upwards to what Daisy had been pointing to and gasped. It was the lighthouse, standing tall and somewhat menacingly over the washed clifftops and swirling fog.

“The lighthouse?!” she spluttered. “Wait a minute, what are you showing me a human structure for?”

“One – I think it’s beautiful, two – you’ve never seen it yourself before, and three – take a look up there…” said Daisy, whose tone went surprisingly soft on her third statement.

“What am I looking for?”

Her older sister pointed a finger at the male figure with black hair atop the balcony. “Him,” she said dreamily. “Oh…what a looker that one is. His name is Tracey. I’ve been observing his movements for a while recently.”

“So this is where you’ve been off to all this time?”

“Yeah, it’s quite out of the way from Rudy and his goons, and no one else really passes through here except for Pokémon, so I can observe him in peace.” Misty blinked, clearly not understanding. “I think he’s sweet,” went on Daisy. “You know what he does aside from keeping that light going? He watches the Pokémon, closely at that, he even draws them in that weird book of his…”

“Draws?”

“Yes. He talks often to that Marill of his, they seem awfully close. He calls himself a Pokémon Watcher, which I think has to do with that drawing habit of his. Whatever drawing means, it seems similar to our photos back home. So I think it’s just an archaic version of that – even if it does seem like a lot of work for something we could do in seconds. So primitive! Although…I wish I could get the chance to see his work up close, just to know what it’s like.”

Misty gulped. “You wouldn’t risk approaching him, would you?”

“What, are you suddenly as afraid of the humans as the rest of those ‘Magikarp’ we call our kind as well?”

“N-no…” said Misty quietly as she sunk under the water, her sister following. “I’m just scared for your sakes.”

Daisy smiled gently at her little sister. “Don’t worry, Misty, I’ve been careful, and if my observations are anything to go by, he’s curious about us as well. Well,” she added with a mischievous snicker, “mostly in me, that is. I am the one who has been singing for him recently. Ooh! I know, I could sing right now actually.” Daisy immediately popped her head out the water. Misty didn’t know why, but in reflex she dove further down into the water.

She watched as Daisy began to sing. They were both so preoccupied that failed to notice that Misty’s Goldeen was beginning to panic. The nearby weeds were swaying furiously, and the Pokémon began to scatter – the girls were oblivious to it.

OoOoO

Ash made his way through the fog, all the areas closest to the water in town was packed with people either at market or fishing. He wanted to begin his search by investigating places where he had heard the strange song being sung the night before. The book told him that often with Sirens the first sign of them being about would be fog. Deducing from that, he decided to head back to the lighthouse where the fog had first begun to appear and where the voice originated.

He stepped cautiously through before stepping up to the door and rapped loudly. “Ahoy! Ahoy, Keeper! Anybody home?!” he yelled.

Tracey was just putting some finishing touches on a drawing of his when Ash’s loud knocks disturbed him, luckily, he didn’t ruin his own work. “Who the devil could that be?” he said in surprise.

“Marill, mar?”

Tracey didn’t give in a second thought and hurried downstairs where he found Ash. Tracey couldn’t help but of him as a strange man.

“Ah, hello Keeper,” said Ash as he let himself into the building. “Hope you don’t mind; could do with getting out of the winds.”

“Mm, those winds are bit fierce,” said Tracey. “But anyways, who are you and what do you want? Almost no one from Cerulean visits the lighthouse, except Mrs. Meyers to deliver me bread.”

“Well, I’m not from around here, I’m a traveler,” said Ash as he aired out his coat. “I’m Ash, Ash Ketchum.”

“Sketchit, Tracey Sketchit.”

“A pleasure, Tracey, and sorry for the intrusion but I’ve come to ask something of you.”

Tracey raised an eyebrow. “About what?”

“Heard any…strange songs lately?”

“Oh, well yes I have,” said Tracey, shocked yet pleased at having someone aside from his Pokémon to talk to about the strange occurrences. “It happens almost every day actually. Just…comes randomly, fog or not. Whoever she is, she has a fantastic voice.”

“I can imagine,” said Ash grinning. “I overheard the tune when I passed by last night. Tell me, do you think it’s a Siren?”

Tracey was astonished! “Y-you believe they exist?”

“Well, do you?” asked Ash. “You’re the one hearing these miraculous songs.”

“I know, and I do believe in them,” answered Tracey confidently. “Well, see I want to. Thing is though, I’ve never seen one.”

“Mmm,” muttered Ash in agreement. Just then the two men both heard a familiar, and spine-chillingly, but calming, female voice – it was the mysterious singer.

“Speak of the Devil…” said Tracey.

“Yeah,” replied Ash. “Think it’s a Siren?”

Tracey seemed unsure, he shook his head to get the doubt out before a more confident looked came to him. “What else is there to explain why those songs keep coming from the ocean?” he said

His visitor only shrugged, before a sight from the window caught his eye. “Well, who knows? Perhaps it’s just our minds playing tricks on us. But oh man, look at that.”

Coming in from the sea were huge rolling waves. “Uh oh,” said Tracey, though he sounded calmer than he should have. “Better keep an eye out – there could be fishermen out on the bay, I only hope they aren’t getting caught in that, or our singer!” Before Ash could speak, Tracey dashed back upstairs. Ash grimaced as he heard the waves.

“Come on,” he said to Pikachu, and dashed out the door. A freak wind passed through, blowing up sea water and tiny pebbles, the waves crashing fiercely against the rocks. Ash heard a high-pitched scream suddenly and followed it. “Don’t worry! I’m coming!”

OoOoO

Misty was panicked as the icy water swirled around her – she couldn’t navigate through all the confusion. Suddenly, she hit a rock face; she thought for a moment that it was a cliff and that she was safe. She held Goldeen and breathed a sigh of relief, then suddenly a large wave came and Misty shrieked as the force hit her and pushed her up the slick rock, she dragged over the jagged structure, her nerves firing off as the feeling of pain coursed through her. She landed tail first into the hard rock surface on the other side. “Ow!” she wailed loudly.

She took in her surroundings as soon as the chaos stopped – there was only enough water to submerge her bottom half, leaving her torso exposed to the earth. “Oh no,” she gasped. She had been forced into a tiny cove, the rock she fell in from being too big to climb. Her tail was bruised and she saw it was beginning to swell – she winced at the sight. She was worried – she was stranded!

Her heart rate began to go up. She was trapped, alone, in plain sight and with Daisy nowhere in sight. “Oh Goldeen,” she whispered in fright. “What if a human finds me…?” She had heard rumors that humans destroyed what they knew nothing about.

Ash jogged as quickly and as safely as he could over the dangerous terrain, whoever was in trouble needed to get out of the storm and fast. Wind and rain buffeted him. He hurried around the stones before halting with a loud screech of his heels.

Splashing before him in a pool of water was a figure that looked like a girl in a swimsuit, her hair orange went only as far as her shoulders. But most shocking for him of all was…

“A…tail?” he said aloud. It was large, green, made of scales, and pretty.

Misty squirmed round and stared in fright, any cry for help was lost in her throat like a cornered Pokémon.

Ash found his voice. “You…” he began. “You’re a Siren, right?”

#Pokemon #zedpercyfan #Pokeshipping #pokeani #SatoKasu #the sirens of cerulean

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gyromitra-esculenta · 5 years ago

Text

So, generally, I couldn’t leave this stuff on ending 1. So, ‘Something Begins’, or so called Ending 2, part kind of 1. Mostly unedited, still ‘a bad Witcher AU’. So it would seem it gets to be made into a proper thing.

Warnings: none (unless you count general creepiness or mention of hunting/hunting practices or personal angst).

It takes him closer to two decades to return even if he swore he wouldn't come back. The horse plods slowly along the road, the dirt muffling the sound of its shoes. Only the jingling of the harness and gear rises above the song of the cicadas in the dead summer air. The trail takes him through the fields of wheat just about losing their grayish-green tint to dirty yellow of fresh straw. Clusters of red and blue in the grain provide welcome relief from the monotony, as do small birds on a hunt, flitting in and out of the wheat.

For the whole day Gabriel barely passes or sees anyone, people probably busy with the festivities preceding the hard work of the harvest, not that he is bothered by it. Far from it, he's rather comfortable with drawing no attention even if the region is favorable to his kin. The voice calling him comes from behind and Gabriel looks over his shoulder to a man awkwardly chasing him, a big pack on his back and a walking stick in hand. He turns the horse around, waiting for him to catch up.

"Master witcher," the man stops to regain his breath.

"A noonwraith?" The fact the general populace is less likely to call him a mutant or devilspawn doesn't mean anyone's going to stop him for a chat. The season's right for the wraiths, too.

"No, no, not a thing like that, doesn't keep around, master witcher." The man has a skin like leather weathered by sun, grey peeking from under his cap, wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. "Have you come for you pay, master witcher?"

Ah. He hadn't really intended to check back on that, mostly forgot about it. Gabriel shakes his head. Nothing about it stirs his interest.

"No. Keep it."

The man nods, as if thinking something over, humming to himself.

"Then come with me, master witcher, spend the night, and the feast. Tomorrow's my youngest hair-cutting, and Mikheil's farewells, the boy's leaving the homestead."

"Your oldest?" Gabriel asks on a whim.

"No, no, the third oldest, the boy got into his head he's better off finding his luck on the road. Well-spoken too, didn't get that from me and my girl," the man explains with enthusiasm. "Family's farm's not for him."

"That's how kids are. He will come around."

"No, no, master witcher, there's no talking him out of anything, always does what he wants. Me and Lila, we thought of giving him to the druids. Some choice words he had, and the druids, they just said no, but Mikheil's got talent."

The man - Wernund, as Gabriel’s memory suddenly reminds him after almost eighteen years, curious what little tidbits emerge when not expected - continues on about his family, and, whether wanting or not, he learns ins and outs of the familial life on the farm. Stranger still, Wernund keeps to the horse's side, and Gabriel feels no need to hurry the mount out of its complacent tempo.

"...I know the naming is mine but Lila chose the name for Nielub, it's a good name, strong name. Woj. That boy will fight a bear barehanded if allowed."

"And the woods, how are they?"

The treeline, closer and definite, sways on the afternoon wind, greener than Gabriel recalls it to have been when he paid it a visit with Jack.

"Never better. I don't know what you did in there, master witcher, but a month, and it was like before."

"Only returned what had been taken from it. Gabriel," he adds. "It's my given name."

With a glance, he observes the plethora of mixed emotions on Wernund's face, waits for the offer of the stay to be rescinded, but to his surprise the man again nods to himself.

"So it would be you, master witcher. Must've had your reasons."

"Gabriel."

"Would be improper, master witcher." Gabriel chuckles at his headstrong resolution and the refusal to feel fright at being in the presence of the one hailed the Reaper. "And there, there is my home."

Wernund points at the buildings at the edge of the forest, almost directly on the no-one's land between the trees looming over the road and the swaying wheat. The farmyard, as a whole, is too big and ample for him to travel on foot - a house, a shed, and a stable, all separate. With the diminishing distance the activity in front of the house becomes obvious: two women sitting on the wooden bench - both plucking chickens, some down floating freely - one man chopping the wood, and a boy running with a stick with several colorful ribbons tied to it.

As they get closer, one of the women notices them - quickly says something - the rest of the way they pass under the scrutiny, and the boy, must be Nielub, running towards his father, the ribbons fluttering behind him. The boy is blond, as is the man leaning now on the axe.

The women, on the other hand, both have rich brown hair, though the older one is visibly greying in front and on her temples - where her locks are woven around polished copper rings glinting in the sun.

Gabriel reins in the horse and dismounts while the boy asks after the gifts.

"Lila!" Wernund sends the boy back to play, placating him with a wooden sword from his backpack propped against the wall. "Lila, we have a guest."

"I noticed," she huffs, returning to her work after giving her husband a lingering look. "Mojmira. Bring the pitcher."

Being observed - regarded with suspicion - never something he grew accustomed to even if it'd always been present in the background of his life, but now back of Gabriel's neck prickles with the question unasked and the weight of her eyes on him.

"I have no intention of taking..."

"Not important," Lila cuts him off, fingers deftly tearing out the feathers, her head tilted to the side hawkishly. "You must be the witcher, the one who rescued idiot husband of mine, I've seen you in my ken." Ah, one of those. Gabriel nods, smiling with the corner of his lips. "You have my thanks, for everything. There's place for you, and the horse, in the stable, clean, and tomorrow, the feast. You'll be staying."

Mojmira comes back from the house with a clay jug held in one hand, and a wooden cup she hands him, dark eyes flicking to his face.

"I see," Gabriel chuckles, raising the cup to his lips - the smell and the taste slightly sour, water with vinegar. "A counteroffer."

"Maybe." Lila throws feathers to the ground. "Fate allows for bargains, but it won't be scorned, not even by the likes of you, witcher."

He glances to Wernund standing several feet away, talking with his oldest, Adan, as he came to know on the way.

"Is your daughter the same?"

Mojmira, sitting again by the side of her mother, and back at work, giggles.

"All women in my line have their gifts."

"And your husband said you're not well-spoken."

"My husband, as much as I love him, is many things, but he had not been born and raised here. He doesn't need to know."

"I see. I'll be going to the forest but I commit myself to be back for the night."

"Fine by me," Lila nods and Gabriel leaves the cup on the bench. "And if you find Mikheil hunting rabbits there, send him home."

"You let your son..."

"You should know, witcher, better than anyone, that if the forest wants to give, it does, and if it doesn't want to, it doesn't."

"It also has a way of punishing those that take what they shouldn't," his tone is sharper than he intends it to, and Gabriel sighs, closing his eyes for a moment.

"That is why we never take what is not offered. If the rabbit springs from under your feet, is it not a gift?"

Gabriel prefers not to answer her knowing smile, instead he turns and leaves the horse grazing in the yard. With a heavy heart, he crosses the road and walks into the forest's shade, feeling her gaze on his back.

The woods are nothing like he remembers them, lush and green now. Neither a desolate and twisted place overgrown with thorns and full of bones, nor a dark nightmare of a child full of monsters. There is life in the trees, birds and insects singing. He spots a fox deeper in - it idly considers him before turning and disappearing in the bushes. Gabriel lets himself wander, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and fingers brushing against the spot under which the flower rests.

Maybe he should have visited years earlier, but it had never felt like a thing to do, the current situation more of an accident than anything else.

It's the smell of fresh blood that pulls him out of his thoughts, and he approaches carefully the small clearing. Two rabbits being bled hang by their hind legs from a low branch, next to them several fish with twine threaded under their gills, a bow and a quiver on the ground. A young man, judging by the posture, sits on the grass with his back to him, occupied with something in his lap. Blond, like the other sons of Wernund.

"Mikheil?"

"You're the worst at collecting your pay, you know?" The boy, springing to his feet, chuckles, and turns. "I was about to go look for you myself."

Gabriel freezes, faced with the impossibility of the image before him, his eyes drifting to the weasel swinging freely from the hands holding it.

"You hate..."

"Oh, yeah, I still do, I guess," Jack mutters, "but this is Lord Murders-A-Lot."

Younger, with places still left to fill out, awkward posture - the legs and arms a bit too long and bony, bits of baby fat waiting to disappear, hair not short enough, dissonances like a vision superimposed on something real.

"...and he murders a lot," slips from Gabriel's lips.

"Mostly chicks. I'm trying to wane him off murder," Jack moves his hands - the weasel appears to be content with being swung around, "and teach him to go after the eggs, but it's not working out. At least, the eggs don't scream at him they're being murdered, like the chicks do."

Gabriel takes a tentative step forward as Jack continues to speak.

"Voles, too. I've even seen him take down a rabbit once, he's an exceptional murder ribbon."

"I miss you," words barely a whisper.

"Well, you certainly didn't hurry then," Jack scoffs, before his eyes widen a bit. He crosses the distance between them - Gabriel cannot shift his gaze away from the weasel for some reason - and stops in front of him. "You're still thinking I'm not here."

"No, you're here, just..." A memory, an apparition, a vision? Not real, not physical, because Jack is dead.

"I sure hope I'm not whatever it is you're imagining me to be, Rhenaweddin." Jack moves, quick, his lips warm and chapped at the edges, with an elusive taste of something sweet and green between them. Gabriel grabs onto his arms to keep him in place before he slips away, again. "I'm really counting on that last growth spurt. Standing on my toes to kiss you, cub, it's going to get old fast."

"That's," Gabriel laughs, almost silent, contained - maybe the emotion has a hysterical flavor to it, "that's what you're worried about?"

"Small things to worry about are good things. Now," Jack puts Lord Murders-A-Lot on his shoulder and the weasel with no delay flattens itself around his neck, "what has my mother managed to rope you into?"

"A bargain. I might have traded..."

"Then you weren't listening, cub."

"Told to send you home." The tightness in his throat is making it hard for him to speak.

"Sneaky woman," Jack clicks his tongue with appreciation, stretching his neck out for a quick peck. "Well, best not to keep her waiting too long, then, she can be really bitchy at times."

Gabriel watches him turn, gather the bow and the quiver, pick the rabbits and the fish from the branch, as if it's the most common - the most reasonable - thing to do. His medallion remains motionless, the thought of having missed its movement earlier in the day troubles him.

"Are you coming, little cub?" Jack laughs, passing him, the weasel still on its perch, its eyes closed and nose twitching. "It feels somewhat strange calling you that when I'm shorter than you."

At that age, yes, Jack hadn't been the tallest, rapidly gaining height only later.

They both did, but it took more time for Jack to grow into his body - his agility strangely mismatched with his disproportionate limbs and bony hips. All paired up with a little cheeky grin like the one he wears now when he looks over his shoulder at Gabriel.

"I'm coming."

Rabbits and fish. Out hunting when they should be training, returning to the keep with the spoils they had not roasted already over the fire hidden in the cove, stomachs full, ready for the reprimand coming from Reinhardt.

It's a memory playing out again in front of Gabriel.

He should, probably, thank the forest for that glimpse, or hate it, deeply, for forcing him to remember and dwell on happier times, uncomplicated, when the only worry had been doing something stupid - which they both were good at, exceptionally so - and suffering the consequences. Broken bones would mend, and scrapes and cuts, sometimes burns and bites, they would heal.

Jack, leading the way, moves with the same kind of disjointed grace he had observed so many times then. Maybe, it is a chance to say proper goodbyes, and to put the ghosts to rest.

"Wait," Gabriel calls after him as Jack is about to cross the invisible boundary of the forest and walk onto the road - the homestead and the fields visible in glimpses between the trees - and the moment has to end.

"You really won't like mother when she's angry."

And just like that, he steps outside the woods, leaving Gabriel with his hand outstretched behind.

He waits for Jack to vanish, for the illusion to fall away from the boy - yet nothing happens, it's still the same painfully familiar silhouette cut against the darkening sky.

The fact he doesn't remember there being any houses this close to the forest does not assuage his uneasiness. Respect it, trust it, revere it, but do not come too close if not needed. The medallion lies dormant. Gabriel draws in a deep breath and follows Jack - not Jack.

The table is set - bread, butter, and white cheese, a pitcher in the centre, probably more water - lit by two torches on poles sticking out of the ground. Lila combs her fingers through Jack's hair but her eyes are on Gabriel.

"Rabbits and fish, as promised."

"Go inside and welcome your father, he's back from the town."

"Yes, mother."

Jack leaves the catch hanging on the hook by the door and disappears inside the house. Lila waits before speaking again.

"Did you find what you were looking for, witcher?"

"No." Gabriel holds her gaze.

#sometimes I write #r76 #reaper76 #totallynotwitcher!AU #murder-deer

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kumkaniudaku · 5 years ago

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The Love Tonight (2)

The Love Tonight (1)

From the moment dinner ended, prepping and planning for the big night during the week continued to evolve into a beast that Chadwick could not contain. His assigned job was to "show up and look good," instructions that were relayed to him on more than one occasion. This left him in the dark about anything that did not involve his wardrobe and Noah's babysitting plans.

So, as he sat in the living room bouncing his son from knee to knee to pass the time, his mind swirled with all of the possibilities the night held. The first of his questions were answered when the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors grabbed his attention.

Instead of dresses, Tasha decided to take her stylist's advice and indulge in the blazer trend of the summer. Naturally, Micah followed suit, making the mother-daughter moment event more adorable. Teal and bronze tones were the motif of the night with both outfits fitting the scheme in their unique ways. Micah dazzled in a kid-friendly relaxed suit that perfectly fused her parents' tastes. While the teal blue suit was one that her father was no stranger to, the bronze heels and accessories were her mother's touch.

CoCo took the cost-efficient chic route and used a very familiar piece to her advantage. After learning that the Versace blazer he husband donned at the NAACP awards earlier in the year was part of the women's line, she made sure it was available to repurpose and reuse. The beautiful animal print across the garment was perfect for the Lion King Carpet, and by choosing to forgo a shirt and show a little skin, it was also age-appropriate. The bold top paired well with a simple pair of trousers that matched the shade of blue accenting the print and bronze accessories.

It was Micah's idea that she be allowed to wear her hair free and curly while Tasha made sure to make a trip to the barbershop to sharpen her growing tapered cut.

"Well, would you look at what we have here? I feel like I need to change." Chadwick was careful to pass Noah along to Yvonne before making his way over to his favorite set of women. Stopping at his wife first, he took a moment to trace his finger down the necklace draped in her cleavage. "Who gave you permission to come out and slay like this?"

"Slay? Is that how we talkin' now," she laughed. "Thank you, baby."

"I vote thumbs down, Chad. Not a good look."

As he fixed his mouth to reply to Yvonne with a snarky remark, the small but dramatic clearing of someone's throat caught Chadwick's attention.

"Now...where did that mighty roar come from? I don't have any lions!"

"It's me, daddy! Down here!"

In true dad fashion, Chadwick kept the charade going to keep Micah laughing for as long as possible. Finally, he acknowledged her with a surprised look etched across his face.

"Wha- Mikey, is that you? I thought you were a pretty lion with all that hair!"

"Like Simba?"

"Just like Simba. You look nice, Princess."

"Pretty enough for pictures?"

"Of course, Princess."

Even on a strict schedule, time was made to capture the family as a unit for personal memories and individual social media accounts. For a child that had only been to one Hollywood event in her entire life, Micah handled the moment with the grace of someone ten times her age. She spent most of the ride alternating between taking cute filtered pictures with Tasha and singing songs from the movie's soundtrack with Chadwick. When the car for the night approached the venue, and all of Hollywood's elite came into view, both parents could sense their first born's excitement.

"We get to go in there with all those people," she asked, her hands and face pressed against the heavily tinted window. "Do they know our names?"

"Maybe. Are you scared to get out, Princess? Do you want me to carry you?"

Tearing her eyes away from the scene, Micah whipped her head around to her father and scrunched her face, "I'm in first grade. I know how to walk."

"I told him the same thing, Boop. Daddy's silly. Let's go."

Chadwick sat back against the cool leather of his seat with a hilariously incredulous look plastered on his face as Tasha helped Micah exit the vehicle. It took Micah's repeated urging for him to join her side and start on the path toward the red carpet.

The flicker of cameras around them paled in comparison to the wonder shining through Micah's eyes. Every step of the way she marveled at the gowns that glittered under the setting sun, comparing the men and women she walked past to King's and Queens.

"Mommy, she has hair like me!"

"Don't point, baby. That's rude."

"But look! Her hair is like mine! Look!"

While Chadwick answered questions from a nearby reporter, Tasha followed her daughter's finger across the way to see the object of Micah's affection.

"What's her name, Mommy?"

"That's Shahadi Wright-Joseph. She plays little Nala in the new movie." She half smiled as Micah watched Shahadi's every move, even mimicking some of her actions. Stooping down, she became eye level with the oldest Boseman child. "You wanna go say, hi?"

"Does she know my name?"

"We can go and tell her. You wanna?"

Her hair bounced rapidly with her nodding before Micah linked her hand in her mother's and tugged her along. Shahadi noticed the pair right away as they approached, paying particular attention to the little girl with a special twinkle in her eye.

"Wow, look at your pretty hair," she exclaimed. "You are so pretty. What's your name?"

"Micah Noelle Boseman. I like your dress."

Both Tasha and Shahadi laughed at her emphasis on her entire name.

"Thank you! I like your purse. What do you have in it?"

"Cheetos and popcorn for a snack!"

"I think I need to sit by you. I might get hungry."

Opening her purse, Micah pointed to its contents, "You can have some. I can share!"

"You're the cutest! Can I take a picture with you?"

Micah happily accepted the request before proudly displaying the few teeth the tooth fairy had yet to claim.

"It's like looking into the future," Chadwick commented as he approached CoCo's side. "Remember when she was a baby? Now we almost have a kid in double digits."

"We should have one more for old time's sake."

Chadwick's bewildered response became nothing more than an unintelligible whisper amid chaos. Instinct prompted Tasha to pull Micah close to her side as the people around them began a mad dash to clear the walkway for a presence that she could not see.

"If you knock her down, your ass is next," she directed toward a hasty cameraman who quickly apologized. "What the hell is going on?"

"I think somebody important is here."

All eyes were fixated on the red carpet to get a glimpse of the guests of honor. In matching blazer ensembles, Beyonce and Blue Ivy strode past the crowd like royalty. Tasha hadn't considered the possibility that her best friend in her head would be present, let alone 20 feet away from her with screaming fans shouting at her from all directions.

"Baby, do the thing," she urged her husband as she bumped her elbow into his arm.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Be famous and get her attention. Tell her to come over here!"

"T, she knows who you are. Just say, hi."

"Hi, Ms. Beyonce!"

Micah's high-pitched voice seemed to boom above the chatter around them, catching Blue's attention before Beyonce's. When she looked over to wave back, her eyes lit up at the sight of Tasha and Chadwick awkwardly standing behind their excited child.

"Hey, y' all!" A quick sidestep and shield of protection from security brought the entertainer closer to the Boseman family. "Oh my God, y' all should've told me you were coming. We could've set something up."

"We still have time," Tasha blurted, unable to keep her words tucked behind her lips. Chadwick gave her a cheeky side-eye and a half-smile. He'd never known her to be nervous when meeting new people, so the opportunity to see his wife flustered for even a moment was a sight to behold.

"You sure, baby? What about the kids? 'Vonne has-"

"She'll understand. We talked already."

"When?"

"You know, when…" Tasha's voice began to trail at the tail end of her sentence as she searched her brain for an adequate lie. "We talked. Don't worry about it."

Beyonce looked between the couple with an amused glint in her eyes and smiled, "I'll take that as a yes from the Mrs."

"And a yes from me!"

"Is that right, pretty girl? Are you, Miss Micah? You know, I've heard a lot about you!"

Micah latched on to the star's outstretched hand and smiled. "I know your songs. Me and my mommy saw you on TV really late at night. Daddy said to go to sleep, but we just got real quiet, so we could still dance."

"Is that right," she laughed. "Did you like the songs?"

Tasha and Chadwick braced themselves for Micah to blurt lyrics or begin her "special" Formation choreography but found her sporting a grin that stretched across her entire face and nodding her head.

"All of them! I listen to them in the car before school."

"What if I told you I made a song for you? Would you be happy?" Micah looked back to her parents for confirmation, finding confused looks from both of them before turning to Beyonce. "I can't wait until you hear it. It's all about your -."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Carter, but we have to keep moving. They need you all seated soon."

Acknowledging the comment, Beyonce made sure to bid the Boseman family a proper goodbye before disappearing down the remainder of the carpet. They received similar instructions soon after before being ushered into the Dolby Theatre for the main event.

Micah buzzed in her seat before the lights could go down inside the theatre, eventually settling for her father's lap for a better view. From the opening song, she was utterly mesmerized by the sights and sounds of The Lion King's newest visuals. She sang along to every song uninhibited, often charming viewers around her into joining the fun. By the end of the film, through light tears and laughter, Micah was the first to lead the room's applause. She couldn't wait to break free from the shackles of forced silence inside the theater to voice her praise for the film. With her father's shoulders acting as her preferred mode of transportation, the little ball of energy began a full breakdown of what she'd just witnessed.

"And-and the pig was so funny. He did the thing like you, Daddy. He was like 'WARTHOG'! Did you see it? Did you?"

Laughing, Chadwick reached up to playfully tickle her sides, "I saw it, baby girl."

"Mommy, you're like Nala! Except you can't sing, 'cause that's Ms. Beyonce singing. Can we be Lion King for Halloween or is Daddy still in trouble for hitting the clown?"

CoCo felt tears prick the corner of her eyes as she fought back the urge to cackle at her husband's expense. Clowngate had been a sensitive subject around the family that Chadwick had yet to escape.

"Of course we can. Daddy can be Zazu so he doesn't hurt anybody with those claws."

"I feel like we can let the past be the past now," Chadwick retorted, side-eyeing his wife and earning another stifled laugh.

Micah continued to rattle off high points of the night as they entered the car and started their journey home. Naturally, she requested the movie's soundtrack as entertainment during the ride, demanding that all of the car's occupants join in for an off-key cover of Hakuna Matata.

In the middle of the song, Micah quietly wrapped her arms around Chadwick's midsection and squeezed with all of her strength.

"Thank you, Daddy. I love you soooo much!"

Something about the way she hugged him with pure appreciation and sincerity made Chadwick tear up as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you, too, little one. I love you, too."

Tasha observed the moment with a smile, preferring to remain a spectator to allow time for necessary bonding. These were memories that both of them would cherish for the rest of their lives. That knowledge was enough to produce a permanent smile on her end.

When Chadwick looked up and away to stop his tears from falling, he caught a glimpse of his wife, who grabbed his hand to run her thumb across his knuckles before adding a soft kiss.

"You're the best dad ever. Don't ever forget it."

He offered quiet thanks before kissing her cheek and resting his chin on top of CoCo's head. The opening flutes and vocals gave way to melodic vocals from Donald Glover and Beyonce's cover of Can You Feel the Love Tonight, gently lulling everyone into a comfortable silence. Chadwick took a look out of the car's sunroof to get a glimpse of the stars dotting the onyx sky above them. As he stared, he tried to commit each one to memory for a day when being a dad or a partner wasn't so easy. This was a moment Chadwick knew he would cherish long after the kids were grown and out of the house.

The soft buzz of his phone drew attention to a text from the last number he ever expected to see.

You two got out of there fast. Still coming out later? Would love to have you two.

Secretly reading the message, CoCo nudged his arm and shook her head.

"Not this time. We'll have other chances, right?"

Chadwick silently agreed before quickly typing out his apology for declining the offer. After taking a final glimpse at the night sky and giving thanks to the Creator, he closed his eyes to listen to the song's final chorus.

"Can you feel the love tonight? The peace the evening brings? The world, for once, in perfect harmony…"

------

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chadwick boseman request

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phonaesthemes · 4 years ago

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a list of asks

@padawanyugi tagged me in this, but Tumblr decided to eat any notification that I got tagged, so I’m glad I saw it on my dash because I like filling these things out. Thanks for tagging me! I may have typed A Lot.

Favorites: What types of books do you enjoy? Tell about what you’ve read recently (Or maybe about a book you hated recently!)I like spec-fic and sci-fi, although less “hard” science fiction, and I also enjoy fantasy. I read a lot of YA even though I’m in my 30s just because it seems easy to find a story I want to read and I’m not usually in the mood for dense prose.

I’ve been rereading the Wheel of Time series since it’s getting an Amazon TV show; it was my first non-LOTR fantasy series and I love it to death, warts and all, although I love joking about the weak points with other people who’ve read it. I think the last other thing I read was A Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue, which was a queer YA historical fiction, and it was a lot of fun. I wish I’d had access to all these queer stories when I was an actual teenager, but better late than never.

What types of music do you like to listen to? Share five songs from your music library. I really do like a bit of everything, although I gravitate towards certain genres more often depending on the season or time of day, so I’m going to cheat and pick 5 per season. Summer for me is lots of peppy pop (pride playlists!), punk and rock and punk-adjacent stuff, just upbeat stuff in general. -Weekender, by The Royal They -Break My Heart, by Dua Lipa -Toutes les femmes savent danser, by Loud -Ruby Soho, by Rancid -Womanarchist, by Bad Cop, Bad Cop

In the fall, my inner goth kid craves darkwave, goth rock, dramatic folk, roots rock, and also anything that reminds me of Halloween. -Iuka, by the Secret Sisters -Bela Lugosi’s Dead, by Bauhaus -How’s It Gonna End, by Tom Waits -Under the Milky Way, by The Church -I Put a Spell on You, by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins I could go on about the Christmas music I like at length (Boney M’s Christmas album slaps, ngl) but I’ll just skip that and say that I listen to more classical and piano pieces in the winter. I’m terrible at remembering names, so artists only: -Ludovico Einaudi -Chopin -Debussy -Saint-Saëns -Dvořák And in spring I’m usually just depressed af and listen to whatever. -FML, by K.Flay -Weird Part of the Night, by Louis Cole -Juodaan Viinaa, by Korpiklaani -P.O.H.U.I., by Carla’s Dreams -Marryuna, by Baker Boy

Do you have a show or movie that you can just put on anytime and it’s your comfort? Definitely Star Trek. I’ve rewatched the various iterations (except TOS) so many times. Also Mean Girls and Bring It On, idk why.

Do you have a favorite dessert? Tiramisu or creme brulée! Or macarons. I don’t eat dessert really unless I’m at a restaurant.

Do you have a favorite cold drink? Sparkling water, hands down.

Do you have a favorite game? The hours I have put into the SIms in my lifetime is probably shameful, although I haven’t played in a while. Don’t Starve is another contender for hours played, but I am also really fond everything by Amanita Design

Do you have a favorite part of your self care/beauty/health routine? I haven’t been doing it much lately since I’ve been dealing with some uncertain health issues with my joints (actually have a rheumatologist appointment later today), but savasana after a long yoga workout is borderline ecstasy.

Do you have a favorite type of take-out food? Indian for sure.

What’s your favorite type of exercise/physical activity? I have a love-hate relationship with running. I don’t actually love it but I love how I feel after. I really enjoy yoga. I love playing in the water at the beach, bodyboarding and swimming.

Pick between: (you choose the context)

Cook or bake? (I love cooking A Lot)

Space or ocean? (Hard to pick, but I grew up by the ocean and it’s 100% my happy place)

Chocolate or vanilla?

City or suburb or rural? (I grew up in an isolated rural village and I miss the quiet and the slower pace of life, but I do not miss the lack of amenities and opportunities, or the smalltown gossip. I also don’t drive bc of epilepsy, so I’m fucked as far as transport in rural settings.)

Past or future?

Shower in the morning or evening?

Mac/Apple or PC/Android? (Linux in general!)

Sing or dance? (I don’t have an amazing voice but I can carry a tune without it being painful, and I love singing along with songs.)

Get up early or sleep in? (I actually love sleeping in but with two kids, early morning is my only time to myself, so I wake up before 6 most days AGGH.)

Shoes, socks, or bare feet? (Hate socks. I’m barefoot at home all year round.)

Marker, crayon, or pencil? Pen!

Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate? (Coffee in the morning, tea later on.)

Random questions:

Have you ever had any pets? (Had dogs and a cat as a kid, and as an adult I’ve had betta fish and cats, and I have a cat currently.)

What is your academic background/job field? I did my undergrad in linguistics, and I am currently a stay-at-home dad lol. I do freelance editing and transcription on the side. I don’t think I’ll ever work in my field bc I really don’t have the energy to go to grad school.

What’s something random that you’re into (even if you aren’t good at it)? I signed up for a Cape Breton step dancing class in university and I loved it.

Are you good at putting away your clean laundry right away? It depends on the day, but generally yes. Mine and everyone else’s. When I lived alone? Absolutely not.

What’s one of your pet peeves? Someone trying to have a conversation with me when they have the radio or TV on. I can’t follow what you’re saying if someone else is speaking! I hate having that stuff on as background noise in general.

What’s something you’re pretty good at? I’m a great cook.

What’s the most recent nice thing you bought for yourself? A new conditioner ig? lol

Can you sew? I can mend a small tear or sew on a button, but it’s been years since I did more than that.

What’s a chore you hate (or a chore you enjoy)? I hate vacuuming so much. So much. Maybe if I had a better vaccuum cleaner I wouldn’t mind it, but I just feel like I’m fighting with the stupid thing, getting caught up on its own cords, caught on furniture, can’t quiiiite reach a spot... HATE IT. I like shoveling snow sometimes, though.

Tell us a fun fact about yourself. I am 20 years older than my youngest sibling, and five minutes younger than my “oldest” sibling.

Never have I ever... Gone fishing, even though I’m from a fishing community.

What extracurriculars did/do you do in school? In high school, I played trumpet in band until the band got dissolved from lack of funding. I played soccer one year, was in a play another year. We had an art club for like a semester that I was in. In university the first time round, I did step dancing and intramural hide and seek Second time around, I was in the linguistics club to help with assignments. (We were very much encouraged to work in pairs or groups for a lot of different classes. The only thing was that you did need to list your group members on the assignment so the prof knew who you worked with. My first morphology class in particular, we had a whole homework club where a huge portion of the class got together to work through assignments and help each other understand, and the prof would quite often show up. </tangent>

Deeper questions:

How’s your quarantine/last few months been? The cabin fever was really bad before the weather warmed up. I struggle with seasonal depression every spring, and it’s gotten much worse since we moved to Edmonton because of how long the winters are. (Snow from September to May/June? Fucccck.) It’s frankly horrifying to look at what’s going on in the US, but even though we have far fewer cases here, I’m really anxious that we’ll see another wave soon. Otherwise, I think I’ve adjusted. Home-schooling, hand-sanitizing, social distancing, masks...All feels kind of normal now, which should maybe concern me.

What do you think of human nature/society/etc.? I am like the least philosophical person you will meet so I don’t think I really have many thoughts.

What’s something you are insecure about? Writing my L2 if a native speaker is gonna read it.

What do you think is the meaning of life/reason that humans exist in the universe? I don’t think there is one, and that doesn’t bother me.

Do you think you’re better (whatever that means to you) than you used to be? Definitely. My adolescence and early adulthood was rough. I was dealing with a lot of trauma, untreated bipolar disorder, and I self-harmed for a very long time. I could not imagine making it to 30, let alone being stable and happy. I actively avoided thinking about the future because it made me spiral. But I was lucky enough to get help, consistent help from a doctor I clicked with, and it made a world of difference. I think younger me would be disappointed at how mundane my life is, but I’m thrilled to be boring because boring means no life-upending mood episodes. I have a happy partnership and two delightful kids and I couldn’t ask for more.

What are your thoughts on religion? I’m not religious and my own experience being raised in the Catholic church was frankly traumatic, but I know that it’s a source of comfort and community for many others and I think that’s awesome for them.

Do you think that there are aliens out there? I think so, although I think that we may not even know what other kinds of life to look for and may not recognize it even if we find it.

What’s something that’s been on your mind recently? We’re moving cross-country in less than a month (driving, no less, nearly 5000 km) and I still have so much to do to get ready aosjdoajdoasijdoaijsd

#personal #long post #in which i ramble about myself a great deal #@padawanyugi

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juncpers-blog · 6 years ago

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i am truly the worst at introductions, so i do want to apologize ahead of time asdfg !! on that note, im gi and i am screaming of excitement right now !! its been a minute since ive been excited for a group, and an already open on at that .. anyway asdfj before i start rambling this right here is my baby face juniper and if you want to know more about her dumb ass please keep on reading !!

╰☆╮ MADISON BEER ─ JUNIPER DUNAY identifies as CISFEMALE and uses SHE AND HER pronouns. they’re a MUSIC ARIST AND SONG WRITER, and they’re only TWENTY ONE ! they’re said to be +ALTRUISTIC, but also -ERRATIC. i guess that’s why they’re known as THE SKOOKUM in the tabloids. (mabel)

trigger warning !! gang mention !! murder mention !!

the synthesis !!

scribbles on empty pages that equal pain, anger, and struggle. words that had only been meant for one, carved themselves into the brunettes skin the moment air filled her lungs for the first time .. screams into the air, she formed into a fear that driven those around her. a fear that was so powerful, it made even a king cower. her king. the daughter of a man who ran an empire, was vowed to be protected along with her four other siblings who stood beside her. but the life of crime and danger always tugged at their skin, forced their claws into their flesh. it was an eat or being eaten lifestyle, and without choice juniper dunay was thrown in the middle of it. it was her bloodline. and while her mother wanted to protect and shelter, her father wanted to toughen her skin and wrap the chains of their gang around her feet. she was forced into situations by loyalty, by the love she had for of those around her, by the drive that was forced within her. but, this lifestyle was not always for her. the constant fear, the murder, the dirty hands, the loss, the pain, and the anger, it sat on her shoulders like boulders. the pain and anger that latched on to her and her siblings wrist troubled their mother, at first it was an itch, and then it was a rash, and then it ate at her flesh. she was barely skin and mostly bone when she decided to take her twin boys, juniper, and her youngest child out of their fathers arms, lifestyle, and curse.

some important extras !! ; these are mostly for me to keep in memory of but can also be used for plots and whatnot !!

despite being a crime family, the dunay had hide behind the socialite title for decades. being something people that, everyone adores but no one can really get their hands on. basically, think of a celebrity family, the kardashians, the westbrooks and how they live. that was the dunays, but tie in gang ties and there you have them.

her mother and father split when juniper was young, and despite them not exactly being in his life anymore they could never truly hide from him nor not be connected to him considering how public their family is.

most people believe the reason for the split, and the children not talking to their father side is because of an affair and despite it not being anywhere near the truth juniper and the rest of them let the media take it and run.

her oldest twin brother, has started to get back into the lifestyle their mother has done everything in her power to keep them out of- yet despite the knowledge and knowing for a fact that its not something he should be in she has kept his secret out of loyalty and has lied countless of times to not only his mother for him, but her other siblings as well as his friends and others in his life.

she once filled out a police report on her father, exposing everything he has and everything he has done. of course, it came from a place of anger and hurt, and a way to get back at him for not being in her the way she wants him to be. she never actually filed this report considering it could have gotten her into a lot of trouble with her father and his gang, not just trouble put could’ve put her on her death bed.

despite the anger and hatred she has for her father, he still sends her along with his three other kids money each month; while one of the twins refuses to touch it and her mother forbids it… she and her two other siblings have used it to benefit them to help build their careers and fund their startups, lifestyle, buy them new cars, spontaneous trips, and anything else they can get their hands on. considering she has made a living for herself now, she usually takes the money he still sends and donates it.

at five years old, juniper had actually witnessed a murder (the reason her mother removed them from her fathers live) and to this day it still lives on in her head. so bad, that she use to have night terrors (and occasionally still does ).

a lot of their time when people ask her about her father, she changes the subject or gives short answers. its always so hard not to expose him and in all reality she’s mostly just stuck in a state of not knowing how to deal with her emotions when it comes to him and their situation.

important career information !! ;

basically, music was something that came rather early in her life. even as a small child, she had the habit of singing everywhere, everything, all the time..

her interest in music only grew as she did, putting herself in piano lessons and guitars lessons from the moment she was able to express her want to do so. of course, she had other hobbies such as soccer and dance but? music was her number one.

after separating from her father, her mother kind of pushed her children into normal things? encouraged them to do whatever they want. and so, at sixteen when she told her she wanted to be a singer her mom did everything in her power to make that happen.

her already having created a fanbase from just being a ‘socialite’ breaking out into new industries was?? easier then most have it.

a year later, age seventeen, juniper released her first single ‘my boy, my town’ that peaked number one on the charts for three weeks.

she has been singing ever since, and of course growing and learning as a person and an artist. she is currently writing her second album.

personality !! ;

compassionate, hard loving and big hearted.

she goes above and beyond the limits for those she loves and feels deeply for.

she will burry your secrets so you dont have to, jump in the darkest of waters with you so you dont have to fight them yourself, will pull you into chaotic nights to keep your mind from straying to all the bad things in life.. she is a giver.

trust issues are wrapped around her neck, clawing at her flesh. they are heavy on her shoulders, along with the ones she formed from her toxic relationship with her dad. she can be difficult is all.

she refuses to let anything or anyone defend her and with that, you can nine out of ten times see her ebullient soul forcing its way out of her.

she is always a super playful person, alway has to be teasing someone.

she wants to give people around her home and comfort, someone they can depend on.

she is guarded, but its only because she feels everything so deeply.

once she lets you in, you’re in forever. but when she hurts, she really hurts and when you cross that line you cross that line.

which is funny because she hates attachment but often finds herself getting attached to people.

she is always on the move !! like if she isnt in the studio shes writing . if she isnt writing she is dragging her friends on trips across the world, endless parties. she seeks excitement, and things to keep her away from her thoughts.

she holds grudges, and anger.

you really cant be just anyone to get another chance after doing her wrong.

shes passionate, ambitious, stubborn, sarcastic.

shes a affectionate drunk, let her live asdfg.

meaningful relationships really mean a lot to her? like she just longs meaningful connections with others.

she honestly?? just wants to live life to the fullest??

shes also annoying as fuck just a warning ASDFGH

not personality related but !! close friends and family usually call her june and/or juni !!

please, i absolutely love plotting? and am opening to so many different ideas and connections and everything else. dont be afraid to throw anything at me!! you can find some of her wanted connections here !! and of course know that i can expand on any of these and still have a whole lot more if you dont see anything on there that you like !! so with that, like this to post? or jump the gun and come message me!!

#excessintro #gang mention tw #murder mention tw #drug mention tw #i think thats all !!#let me know if i forgot anything !!#im super excited !!#connections are at the bottom !!#ヽ✴・ﾟ 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖘 ◜ 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 .

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theodoredimas · 7 years ago

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You Can’t Have My Heart - Chapter 6/?

A/N: I am so sorry it took me so long to update this. My muse left me but it has returned! Here's a small chapter but I promise the next one will be nice and long. I have so much in store for this story. And remember guys, this is a SLOWBURN. A lot is going to be revealed about Mon-El's past first before these two even come close to getting together. They still have almost a full year before Kara is to be married. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.

AO3

Kara watched as Bree and Mon-El positioned themselves in the center of the large ballroom where she knew the party would be held. Kara watched as Mon-El bowed to Bree before he gently placed his hand just above her waist. They started to slowly dance as Bree explained to Kara the meaning behind the dance.

“Many centuries ago, our king had to choose a bride for his son. However, he could not see which princess would bring our kingdom the truest benefit. So he turned to our god, Val-Or, and asked to give him a sign as to which bride the gods would show favor on and bring prosperity to our people. He invited all the kingdom, both high and low-borne, to the feast that day, announcing for all to know that our god would choose their future queen for them. Twenty women stood before them and each danced with the prince. And just as the sun began to set the twentieth princess began to dance with the prince. It is said that the moment they touched the room was filled in awe, a hush falling over everyone. As the dance progressed and as the sun sank, the crowd waited with bated breath to see if perhaps she was the one our gods had chosen.”

Kara’s own breath caught in her chest as she watched the two gracefully dance around the ballroom, the dance itself a beautiful sight to behold. She saw how as the dance progressed the points of contact grew. At first it was just Mon-El’s hand then his other arm gracefully connected with Bree’s, her hand gently cupping his as it began to sway up and down in the air flawlessly along with the dance. He slowly spun her with their connection and she twirled until she was facing him again. He again slowly spun her out but this time he extended his arm for her to grab onto as they moved through the ballroom. She watched as Mon-El grabbed Bree’s hand and Bree flawlessly spun out, their hands the only point of connection. They beautiful came together, their hands raised high in the air before moving apart again. They did this twice more before they came together, both arms squared and wrapped around one another.

As they began to waltz, Bree continued. “As they glided over the floor, the room grew dim save for the twinkling lights on the walls and above them. The music began to swell, as if the gods themselves were playing and blessing the union.” As Mon-El spun Bree out, she said, “The crowd gasped as he spun her and when they came back together, the prince lifted her into the air,” Mon-El doing just that, “and a brilliant ray of sun shone down upon them.” As Mon-El gracefully lowered Bree down, her feet gently touching the ground, she finished, “Showing us that our gods had made their choice. She would be our next queen.” They concluded the dance with a low dip before separating and bowing toward each other.

Turning to face Kara, Bree said smiling, “The dance itself symbolizes the bringing together two beings and unifying them as one. It has become tradition ever since then to ask our gods to bless the marriage that will take place.”

Kara had tears in her eyes, for the dance was truly breathtaking. Clearing her throat softly, she asked, “Has it always happened each time? Have your gods chosen each time?”

The smile fell as Bree shook her head. “No and when we do not listen to our gods there are always consequences. Sometimes the kingdom suffers through a harsh rulership, a war is started, an insufficient supply of foods for the people, or even a loveless marriage. There are always consequences for going against what our gods desire. Whether that be on a large-scale or contained just to the royal family is yet to be seen until the marriage is sealed.” Shaking her head, she smiled at Kara as she reassured her, “I’m positive that won’t happen here though. This marriage will bring only good things for our people.” Stepping away from her brother, Bree motioned for Kara to take her place. “Alright, now it’s your turn. We will go slowly as I talk you through each one of the steps. Mon-El is an excellent lead, so if you follow him he will guide you through it all quite easily. I promise.”

Kara shook her head, not wanting to share such a symbolic dance with a man she knew had feelings for. Even if they were just blossoming little buds of emotions. However, Bree wouldn’t take no for an answer and Kara found herself being bowed to by Mon-El before his hand gently rested on her waist. They went through the movements slowly at first, the sun leisurely beginning its descent as time passed. Both Bree and Mon-El coached her through the moves, adjusting her step each time she stumbled or faltered. Soon Kara forgot her own feelings as she focused solely on learning the dance. As the sun began its final descent, the last rays lighting the sky, Kara finally felt confident enough to do it at the normal pace once through. Bree started to sing softly the melody that would play tomorrow as Kara would dance with Ashe. Kara smiled at Mon-El as she matched each of his move, pride swelling in her heart.

Bree herself smiled widely as she watched the two dance together. She liked Kara a great deal and was happy to see her brother would be marrying a lovely woman. She watched as they came to the conclusion of the dance. Mon-El spun Kara out just as the sun finally set and as he lifted her into the air, Bree gasped softly as a brilliant ray of sunlight shone down upon them. She watched as Kara smiled down at Mon-El, her own smile matching the light unifying them by their gods. Then looking down, Bree saw her brother smile right back as a light she had never seen before shined up at Kara. With tears filling her eyes, having been honored to witness her gods’ wishes, Bree looked on as Mon-El slowly brought Kara back down. They ended the dance with the dip before separating and bowing toward each other.

Bree didn’t know what to do with this information. Val-Or had made his choice known. She knew firsthand what going against their gods meant, her own parents union having never been blessed. Their marriage was only that by word. Neither of them loved each other and while her father treated her mother with nothing but respect, she saw the sadness in his eyes. A sadness of a love lost, a love that had gifted them her oldest brother. While the kingdom prospered under her father’s rule, it was the House of Gand that suffered. A house full of hatred and contempt. Bree feared what would occur if her own brother entered into a marriage not blessed by their gods.

She was just about to move forward to tell them what she had witnessed when the doors to the ballroom opened. Her mother, Klysa, entered the room and Bree immediately knew this would not end well. Trying to intercept, Bree rushed before her mother, standing in her way. “Mother, what a surprise! I thought you and father would be settling in and resting after such a long journey.” Looking back at Kara and more specifically at Mon-El, who took a large step away from Kara, Bree tried to implore him to slip away. However, her brother would not listen as he knew that if he were to escape, the queen’s anger would then be dispelled upon her daughter.

Klysa looked at her daughter, before looking behind her toward Kara and Mon-El, a scowl appearing as her eyes landed on him. “What are you doing in here?”

Bree lied blatantly. “Kara was just being so kind as to show me around the palace. She was just showing me the ballroom where the banquet will be held tomorrow. Isn’t it beautiful in here mother?”

Klysa slowly let her eyes take in the room, not letting her contempt of this world show on her face. “Yes, it’s just…delightful isn’t it. So quaint.” Moving forward she came to stand in front of Mon-El, Bree rushing toward his side, worried at what her mother would do. “Jaarc has been looking for you since we’ve arrived.”

Mon-El started to apologize when Klysa backhanded him, her ring cutting into his cheek. He bit back a gasp of pain as Bree protested loudly, “Mother!” and Kara reached out toward him, shocked at what she had just witnessed.

Klysa grabbed Mon-El’s chin and held it so her nails started to dig into his flesh. “Don’t forget your place, whoreson. I am your queen and you are nothing. You would still be rotting away in the stocks if it weren’t for my mercy. Remember you are not to speak until given permission.” Mon-El breathed heavily through his nose, his jaw clenching in rage. He took her harsh words though, knowing the truth behind her lies. He knew she only did this to him to humiliate him in front of not only his sister but also Kara. Reminding him that she viewed him as nothing but an animal to abuse. Klysa saw the anger in his eyes and punished him for it, her nails drawing blood as she forced him to bow down low before her. “And you are to bow before your queen.”

Mon-El sank to his knee as Kara spoke up, “Stop this!”

The queen looked at her and said, “This does not concern you.” Looking down at Mon-El she asked, “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

Taking in a deep breath, Mon-El controlled his anger as he spoke evenly words he learned long ago, “I offer my deepest regret and apologies to you, my queen. I am but your humble servant.”

Klysa smiled wickedly at him before releasing her damaging hold on him. “You are dismissed. Find Jaarc, I am sure he has his own form of punishment for your tardiness.”

Clenching his jaw, Mon-El bowed his head before slowly standing to his feet. Turning toward Kara and Bree he bowed deeply at the waist, never meeting their eyes. “Your Royal Highnesses.”

Kara was left speechless at the horror she just witnessed. Her heart hammered in her chest as rage for Mon-El and how the queen treated him. She didn’t know what to say or even think. Bree though looked at her mother with unbridled anger, it seeping into her voice as she spoke. “How could you be so cruel to him? Must you continue to punish him for something he had no control over?”

Klysa stepped toward her daughter, a warning ringing clear in her voice. “Do not speak to your mother in such a tone. If he cannot remember his place, then that is your fault. He is not your equal and he never will be, so stop treating him as such and treat him as he should be treated. As his name requires him to be treated.”

“Father did away with such terrible rules long ago. It is you who insists on it, your own wounded pride…” Bree was not expecting the slap as her mother hit her. Tears filled Bree’s eyes, her bottom lip trembling as she gasped aloud in pain. Looking up at her mother, she cradled her cheek. “I hate you and I hate what you’ve done to our family.” She excused herself from Kara before rushing out of the room.

Kara stood in shock as the queen turned toward her. She saw no remorse in the woman before her for what she had just done. Kara decided right there and then that the queen of Daxam was a cruel woman that she would never like. Klysa held her head high as she told Kara, “You would also do well to remember your guard’s place. He is not your friend. He is your servant. He is beneath you and you should treat him as such for him to remember so.

Kara stepped forward boldly as she spoke with conviction. “He is a person, just like you and I. I will treat him as I would treat any of my fellowman. I would remind you that you are not on Daxam. You are on Krypton and we treat everyone equally here.” Klysa sputtered in anger as Kara took another step toward her, causing Klysa to take one step back. “And when I become the queen of Daxam I will ensure that everyone will be treated just as equally there as well. Now, if you’ll excuse me Your Majesty, I must go check on my friends.” Kara stormed off in a rage, looking for where Bree or Mon-El went off to.

Klysa took in a deep breath as she contained her own rage over what Kara had said. Looking around at the ballroom, she promised silently to her god that she would never allow a Kryptonian to rule on her world, even if it was the last thing she did.

#karamel #karamel fanfic #my fanfic

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bussanbaby · 7 years ago

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the lifeboat

Hunter’s Moon seems to be particularly crowded on this evening - most of the tables further in are taken, werewolves, seelies, vampires and warlocks coexisting peacefully in a half-drunken atmosphere filled with the clinking of glass and toned down chatter. Groups of colorful folk mingle by the door and by the bar as well, Magnus has to subtly shoulder his way through, the gold detailing on his jacket catching the dimmed light as he moves.

It’s his first free evening off in a bit and he wants to celebrate, have a strong drink to the sound of good music, maybe meet someone along the way. As he passes through the throng of bodies, people greet him with polite nods, some faces more recognizable than others; he also catches shreds of conversations, background white noise, equally easy to tune out and listen into.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite customer,” Maia chimes as Magnus sits down on one of the stools by the bar. She looks as radiant as always, her smile wide as she swings a cloth onto her shoulder, then leans on the counter in front of him.

“If it isn’t my favorite bartender,” Magnus quips back and Maia winks with a chuckle before moving to pour a beer for a burly warlock to the left. There are years of experience in her movements, sure efficiency in the way she slides the pint across the top without spilling a drop; although this is nothing compared to the tricks Magnus has seen her do with a shot glass.

“What can I get for you, mister?”

Magnus leans his elbows on the bar, ringed fingers threaded together underneath his chin.

“I had to deal with a summoning gone buck wild, take from that what you will,” He sighs, scratching along the side of his goatee. It’s been a stubborn demon and while Magnus has mostly recovered from the extensive magic usage earlier, he’s in no mind to be doing anything productive, hence the visit.

“Sheesh,” Maia grimaces with sympathy, eyebrows knitting together. “Double martini coming right up.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

Maia turns around, busying herself with the drink; she’s got a light brown leather jacket on, the back embroidered with the words “WOLF GIRL” on top of a canine mouth full of jagged teeth. Magnus’ eyes wander further - over the collection of bottles neatly set on shelves lined with fairy lights that crawl onto the walls, over his own fingernails covered in burgundy polish, one of them chipped at the top. A glass crashes somewhere and raucous laughter erupts like a choir - Magnus has missed this place, where all cultures mix and everyone’s a pal if only until the bottom of the glass.

“It’s looking busy today,” He observes, absentmindedly scanning for familiar faces - there are some wolves from Luke’s pack playing cards, two young warlocks from Manchester, Raphael’s kids throwing back wine-red shots.

Maia hums in agreement and sets Magnus’ drink in front of him, then pulls two beer bottles from under the bar to hand them off to two seelie girls. “Simon’s bringing in quite the crowd after his last concert.”

“Is he playing tonight?” Magnus takes a sip, enjoying the slight burning sensation as the alcohol slides down his throat. He knows Simon, mostly through shared connections - he’s practically the son Luke never got to have and Raph’s protégé. He seems like a fun kid, the living embodiment of ‘winging it’ and quite the musician. Magnus heard him play a handful of songs before, so he’s looking forward to another concert.

“Yep, should be coming in soon,” She confirms, toying with an empty beer pint.

The stage is sitting snug in the corner of the space, just beside the giant jukebox and pool tables. What’s surprising is that there’s two high wooden stools and microphone stands instead of one, but before Magnus can ask about them, Maia juts her chin towards the entrance. “Speak of the devil.”

Magnus turns in his seat, expecting to see Simon on his own, but there’s another figure next to him. A shadowhunter with the deflect rune curling up the side of his neck, mussed-up brown hair, and a bomber jacket over broad shoulders. He and Simon seem to be friends, judging by the easy way the newcomer tilts his head down to listen to the vampire’s quick words as he carries a keyboard case.

“Who is that?” Magnus asks, prompting Maia to look up again, a knowing smile curling up her plum-colored lips.

“That is Alec. The Lightwood family’s oldest son, a soon-to-be Head of the NY Institute, or so I’ve heard,” She answers nonchalantly, putting down another polished glass with a clink. “He’s pretty cute, but no match for his gorgeous sister.”

Magnus’ eyes follow the duo all the way to the stage, people parting to let them through. Alec Lightwood, where has Magnus heard that before? He’s not exactly fond of Shadowhunters, but he does work with them sometimes, they might have saved the world together once or twice before. Then, it clicks - it’s the same guy that bravely came out a while back, currently the only proudly gay Nephilim, a vocal adversary against Clave’s treatment of Downworlders and general work ethic.

It’s actually strange that they haven’t met in person since Luke has mentioned working with him and Simon has talked about an ‘Alec’ in passing. What Magnus didn’t know is that the stoic and grumpy archer is the same person as this handsome fellow currently helping Lewis set up all of the equipment, eyes rolling at Simon’s nervous talking.

Magnus turns back, swivels his drink before taking another big sip. “Should I remind you that Simon is your boyfriend?”

This time it’s Maia who rolls her eyes, her smile widening at the mention of the b-word, as she dips her head to hide it. “He is. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that Isabelle Lightwood is his friend and we hang out sometimes. I have eyes, Magnus, and she has a lot to look at.”

Magnus chuckles, about to answer, when a hand claps him on the shoulder and Luke slides into the seat next to him.

“Good to see you, Magnus,” Luke greets, face split into a grin, smelling like New York after dawn and teriyaki chicken from the Jade Wolf.

They shake hands and Magnus watches Luke order a beer, then lift the bottle to his mouth and down a couple of gulps with a relieved sigh. “God, there’s no parking anywhere close. You’d think being in the police force would get you some perks.”

Magnus hums with understanding, lifting his drink in a subtle toast to Luke’s words. “This is why I don’t own a car. Anyway, I thought you’d be at the precinct tonight?”

Luke shrugs off his jacket and folds it in his lap, his police badge twinkling at his belt. “I was supposed to, but Simon’s van broke down and I offered to give him and his equipment a lift.”

An unpleasant noise cuts through the bar’s bustle, a mix between a chair screeching against floorboards and microphone feedback. Everyone quiets down and turns to look at Simon smiling sheepishly from behind a mic.

The shadowhunter - Alec - elbows Simon somewhat gently, spurring him into action.

“Hi, hello everyone. I’m Simon Lewis and I’ll be providing you some quality entertainment for the next couple of hours. No comedy though, my jokes are pretty sucky.” Simon snaps his fingers, fangs visible as he smiles at the snickering crowd.

Alec groans from behind him, theatrically covering his face with large palms, one of them holding onto a mic too. He seems kind of uncomfortable being in the center of attention, his seat pushed back behind Simon’s, eyes roving over the crowd with concealed anxiety. He’s making the best of it, though, happy to support his friend. “I’m telling you, his humor is a giant pain in the neck.”

Laughter washes over the public again and Magnus can’t help but smile as well at the corny vampire puns. He wants to get to know Alec better, there’s something about him that Magnus can’t place, an air of mystery, a subtle pulling tide of curiosity.

“Anyway, my good buddy Alec here lost a bet, so now he will sing for you,” Simon says with a smug grin, clapping the shadowhunter on the shoulder and earning himself a grave stare.

“I am not your buddy, I just tolerate your antics,” Alec bites back in a flat tone, mic pressed near his mouth, one corner of his mouth turned up despite the knitted brows.

“Aw, love you too, best friend,” Simon coos, clearly enjoying himself, while Alec slowly runs out of sanity and/or patience.

Magnus sips his martini, making a mental note to get this shadowhunter’s number after this, maybe ask him out for drinks and see if they click when he feels a pair of eyes on him. He looks up and it’s nobody other than Alec.

As cliché as it sounds, time seems to pause for a moment. They hold each other’s gaze, Magnus’ heart trips over its own feet, a stutter step caused by the awfully charming lopsided smile blooming on Alec’s face. He looks intrigued, stunned into stillness before he blinks rapidly, lets his eyes appreciatively slide up and down Magnus’ body.

“Um, this is ‘The lifeboat’.”

People clap and cheer, Simon starts to strum the guitar settled in his lap. He shoots Alec an encouraging smile, who shifts on his feet, fingers gripping the mic tightly.

“Well, hello, what's your name? What's your sign? Mine's the same, I do feel you could use a change... “ Alec’s voice is pleasantly low, certain words losing form beneath his New York accent, some raspy in a way that sends a subtle shiver down Magnus’ spine.

With the first line, he steps off the stage, the thumb of his free hand hooked in a belt loop, then continues wandering around the crowd. Even despite small detours, his eyes keep drifting back to Magnus, who finds himself sitting up straighter, unconsciously gripping the stem of the martini glass tighter between his fingertips.

Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus can spot Maia leaning over to whisper into Luke’s ear, see him then turn to Magnus with an arched brow and laughter on his lips. Magnus is still focused on Alec though, on the way the fabric of his jeans clings to his thighs, on how he licks his lips with a smile, on the thin line of skin beneath the edge of his shirt. Magnus really wants to invite him out for drinks now.

“Oh, my love, I'm not the type, the one that floats your boat then leaves you capsized, capsized... “ Alec continues his song, voice louder on the chorus when he comes to stand in front of Magnus. He reaches out, palm up, the invitation clear.

His own quick heartbeat accompanying the song in Magnus’ ears, he downs the rest of his drink in one go, then takes Alec’s hand, lets himself get dragged off the stool and into the crowd.

Alec’s hand is warm, holding onto his not too tightly as he spins Magnus around. Letting the music guide him, Magnus starts to dance - it’s all languid, keeping the same flirty tone as he shifts, steps and turns. It feels as easy as breathing, he doesn’t even have to think about what comes next - the instrumental break ends, Alec’s voice picking up the words again, his tone joined by Simon’s next time the chorus rolls back around.

People are clapping, some falling into a simple rhythm along with Magnus; it feels euphoric to just let go, enjoy life if only for a bit before stepping back into the shoes of the High Warlock of Brooklyn. Yet, the song ends too quickly for Magnus’ taste and he stops with a flourish, eyes opening to the sight of Alec before him, the look on his face speaking of fascination and a curious kind of keenness.

Magnus runs a couple of fingers through the hair spiked tall on his head to fix the strands that moved astray, Alec’s gaze following the arch of his arm, hanging onto the sight of Magnus’ bicep moving against the velvet fabric. He grips the microphone tighter before snapping out of his daze, abruptly moving towards Simon, almost like he’s wanting to run away.

Alec all but throws the mic to him, then says maybe two sentences, barely giving Simon time to nod before he’s back, all giddy and smiling adorably, while Magnus is still trying to calm his own breathing.

“Hi, I’m Alec. I probably should’ve started with that instead of pulling you out of your seat,” He says in one breath, gesturing restlessly with his palms. “Also, you’re an amazing dancer.”

Magnus smiles, biting down on his lower lip to stop the grin from becoming too large; he doesn’t miss the way Alec’s eyes dip down to his mouth.

“It’s okay and thank you. I quite liked your little performance there as well.” At that Alec nods in silent thanks, looking up at Magnus from beneath a thick fringe of eyelashes; he almost stutters over his own name. “I’m Magnus Bane.”

It’s suave, it’s flirty, it’s definitely working. With a shimmy of his shoulders, this time it’s Magnus who extends his hand for a shake and when Alec grabs it, firmly and softly at the same time, it’s different from before. There’s no swelling music, no big movie moment where the narration kicks in, but it’s the something more of this evening.

They don’t let go, two stars in a constellation, the rest of the universe moving around them; people shift around with Simon’s next song, the free space between tables turning into a dance floor, but neither Magnus or Alec are paying attention.

“Would you like to go out with me?” Alec says, gently squeezing Magnus’ hand.

Magnus hasn’t expected the shadowhunter to be so outright or so quick to do anything. He’s known them mostly as these reserved, sour-faced people moving through life with as little joy as they can manage; Alec, he’s different, Magnus knows, how doesn’t matter.

“I’d love that. When?” Magnus switches the hand he’s holding Alec’s with to reach up and touch at the vine earcuff he’s wearing.

Alec glances down at their joined hands, Magnus’ fingers wrapped around Alec’s, rings against bare skin, then looks back up, mouth hanging open as he decides on his words. “How about now?”

“Now?” Magnus repeats, then pauses, thinking of all the places he could take this man to. “There is this Chinese restaurant a block away.”

For a blink, Alec’s brow furrow down as if he can’t believe Magnus actually agreed, but then his face smooths out, that lopsided smile back on his lips; Magnus already loves it, how free it is, how it hides nothing.

“I’m down for Chinese.”

“Let’s go, then.” Magnus spurs them into action, pulls on their joined hands towards the bar; Alec follows suit without complaint, only the first step unsure.

It almost seems too good to actually be true, too easy; everyone around them is having fun, not paying attention to them and what could be the romance of a century. Magnus quickly pulls out a hundred dollar bill and slaps it on the bar counter. “Keep the change, Maia.”

They exchange a smile as she slips the money into her pocket. “I sure will. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He can’t even roll his eyes before Luke gives him a pair of enthusiastic thumbs up. Magnus shoves at his shoulder and says goodbye, before dragging Alec out into the cool New York evening air.

And the rest? That’s history.

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spam-stan · 7 years ago

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Hello @woozidimples, it’s me your sss! I apologize for such a late reveal, my computer crashed and i had to quickly start over but it’s 2:30 am and i finally finished! I tried to include what I thought you might like into everything and hope this is alright. this oneshot is 2,190 words so it’s pretty long. It might have an abrupt ending and i apologize, I will also revise in the morning so this is my unrevised, present to you and I hope you like it. Also i just used the name on your profile and hoped for the best, if otherwise wanted I can change it. i hope your holiday was amazing and you deserve the absolute best ! (also the format of this might suck it’s my first time posting my writing on here and i don’t know how to really and it’s almost 3 am.)

merry christmas indeed.

its christmas eve and both you and jihoon were at his studio. he had insisted working on something for the boys he had told you (‘i won’t work long, tee’ ‘i’m coming with you’ ‘tee-’ ‘c’mon slow poke’ and cue your giggles and a door slam with jihoon chasing after you) and you’d be damned if you werent going to spend tonight with him. but in the end, he had only worked fifteen minutes with his headphones on before he sat with you on the couch he put in there recently. you ordered takeout from one of the only restaurants open (just some bulgogi, sweet potato noodles, a side of kimchi and some rice you were craving) and he put on a movie on his not so big screen. he had a blanket in there from when you had visited one time a while back. you both giggled softly and ate the food (tipping the worker far more than needed when he brought it), finishing the first movie before putting on a more romantic movie per request from you. (read: “c’mon today is suppose to be romantic.” “darling, that’s tomorrow.” “please, hoonie.” “…fine”). though, halfway through the movie you knocked out and your boyfriend smiled softly kissing your forehead before continuing to watch the movie, tucking you closer to him. only, he too fell asleep not long after you did. now pan to seungcheol and soonyoung who each tried to contact you both. they were all going to bed and needed to know if either of you had keys to get back into the door, but alas their efforts were to no avail. so they got into one of the vans, seungcheol driving (luckily the road were clean) and soonyoung in the passengers seat. they got to the studio not far from the dorms and soonyoung got out going to get you guys. “I’ll be back, I’ll call if i need help,” he nodded and then shut the door going up to his studio. he opened the door and let out a soft giggle at the sight, the credits rolling, the takeout boxes on his chair, and both of you snuggled up close. he turned everything off and cleaned the trash, mindful of being quiet as to not wake the either of you. he then called the leader and waited until he was up to try to pick you both up, not wanting to wake the either of you. “i can take tee and you take jihoon,” the eldest murmured to soonyoung who nodded. he helped remove the blanket and seungcheol leaned down picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before the other put a blanket over you. soonyoung then sat between jihoon’s legs, back to his chest, and wrapped his legs around his waist before he grabbed his arms and wrapped it around his neck. stirring in his sleep, jihoon lifted his head and muttered something incoherent before seungcheol threw a blanket over his head and softly patted the soft locks and he fell back to sleep, shifting and clinging onto soonyoung better. “im surprised tee hasnt woken up yet,” the choreographer whispered as he glanced at your undisturbed sleeping figure. the leader laughed softly and nodded, walking out after soonyoung, shutting the light off and closing the door. they took the elevator down (as it was easier and faster than walking down the stairs) and walked out to the car. seungcheol was the first to set one of the two of you down, fixing you so you seemed comfortable. he then helped soonyoung take the smaller off his back and into the van. he fixed him as well and then they got into the car, seungcheol humming softly as he drove, looking through the rearview mirror every few seconds until arriving at the dorms in the short ride there.

soonyoung got jihoon once more with the help of the other conscious member, walking inside and taking the elevator up. seungcheol then took you in his arms as he had when picking you up before. “this is like the four time im doing this, this month,” he complained softly to himself before you stirred and he panicked, stopping his movements until you settled back down.

when the male finally got inside the doors he took you to your boyfriends room, mindful of the other sleeping members (mingyu and jeonghan each sprawled out on their respective beds) and tucked you in next to him, softly brushing your hair from your face with a yawn.

The next morning you woke up, couldn’t have been earlier than 7 am or later than 9 am, eyes slowly blinking open. You shifted your head a bit and looked up, finding a smiling jihoon looking at you with a soft, fond look. you rubbed your eyes and smiled softly as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “good morning, tee. how’d you sleep?” he questioned you softly, voice gruff from the lack of use.

“Really good, how about you, oppa,” you joked softly, wiggling your eyebrows and giggling at the name despite the early hours. Jihoon rolled his eyes and softly poked your side from where it was softly placed over your body from inside the warm duvet. “I slept fine, stupid,” he muttered before he shuffled down more a bit, eye level with you before you buried your face against his neck and he kissed the top. you don’t remember falling asleep but you wake up what feels like an hour later but in reality is only 10 minutes, “merry christmas, jihoonie.” you murmured softly, voice thick with sleep causing your boyfriend to smile and whisper a soft ‘merry christmas’ against your hair.

you then looked up and around the room, brows furrowed as he noticed, smiling with a soft chuckle. “Everyone else already woke up, they’re eating breakfast, hungry,” he questioned softly petting your hair. “yeah, just let me stretch and steal some of ‘cheol’s clothes,” you murmured before you heard him scoff and mutter a soft ‘im your boyfriend’ making you laugh, softly hitting his shoulder as you shook your head. “yeah, id take your clothes if there were any clean clothes, so dont complain,” you hummed, softly stroking his cheek as you looked him in the eyes.

you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling against the soft skin before pulling away and sitting up. you went over to the leaders clothes, grabbing a pair of his smaller sweats and a long sleeve, stealing a pair of antlers off of the second oldest’s bed. quickly changing once your boyfriend left the room you walked out and smiled seeing the youngest walk by in a pajama set with candy canes all over it.

you sat at the couch curled up at the corner, wonwoo sat not too far, head bobbing a bit from sleepiness. you giggled quietly seeing the rustling of all the members, calling their families and friends, getting breakfast ready and grabbing the presents to put under the tree. you had spent christmas a week prior at your parent’s house as they were leaving on holiday and werent going to be there for christmas. jihoon had already visited a month prior and they gave gifts then, facetiming the night before when they were at the studio waiting for food.

“good morning, tee,” came a soft gruff from next to you before you felt a weight fall on you and let out a whine. “wha-” you then saw a tuff of brown hair and fairy-like ears, “hao! you lazy,” you giggled loud before giving up and huffing, leaning your head back down and watching the members again. you smiled as jihoon walked over to you, a bowl of cereal for you in his hands, and then sat down in the spot between you and wonwoo. he gently flicked the headband making you scrunch your nose up in a smile, shaking your head a bit as you muttered a small thank you.

after everyone had finished you helped clean the kitchen with the two korean-american members, loudly singing christmas songs (with the help of seokmin in the background). afterwards, everyone gathered in the living room and you sat on the floor between your red haired boyfriend’s legs, his hands instantly playing with your hair, smiling wide at the feeling. after a good hour full of laughter and pranks (mingyu wrapping minghao’s present [a gift card] up and then putting it in a box, wrapping it, into another box, wrapping it, into another, and after wrapping that one into the biggest one, wrapped pretty with a bow on the corner) the members had all exchanged gifts.

but then suddenly they all turned to you and you noticed there were still some left, and the members suddenly started throwing and attacking you with love and presents screaming merry christmas. (“ow! chan!” “oh my gosh tee im so sorry i didnt-” “you got my eyeball!” then cue the other members laughing as jihoon examined your eye) everyone then helped clean up the mess and you moved onto the couch, presents still unopened at your feet except jihoon’s which was on your lap. a pair of sound blocking headphones identical to his besides your name neatly written on them obviously by jihoon.

you had given him a simple bracelet with his name engraved in it and a new notebook to write in.

everyone was just walking about in the doorm while you and jihoon stayed on the couch watching a random christmas movie along with the performance unit and wonwoo who was curled up more asleep than awake even after the gift giving and receiving. you ran your hands through his hair and he smiled, humming softly as he gently bumped your noses together. “i want to redye my hair,” he whispered, not because he needed to but because he felt he would ruin the soft moment by speaking too loudly despite his honey voice.

“why? you just dyed your hair not too long ago,” you reminded, admiring the bright colour on his head. he only shrugged, grabbing your hair and smiling as he giggled, “maybe the same colour as yours?” you shook your head with a soft laugh, smiling wide as he stroked your hair. “what have the fans been asking for,” you questioned before he replied with a simple ‘black’.“is hansol here,” you questioned him, jihoon shaking his head and informing you that him and seungkwan went on a coffee and lunch run for everyone. so you called him.

“vernon, do you happen to have any hair dye from when your hair was black anymore,” you crossed your fingers in hope but whined when he said no. “but I’ll stop by the shop and get black dye from one of the noonas,” he promised before hanging up. you guys then continued to sit and admire each other before you buried yourself against your boyfriend and he took your antlers off, rubbing your back when you fell asleep. he set your head on wonwoo’s thigh after getting up to use the restroom, only to be woken up by vernon moments later with the dye and gloves and brush to apply. he explained what the noona had said to do and you nodded, ruffling his hair as you sat up waiting for your boyfriend, getting everything ready to do.

when he came back he raised his brow at you and you said nothing, patting between your legs on the floor. so he sat down and squeaked as he felt the cold dye on his hair, gasping a bit before he relaxed a while after. “youre going to look so handsome, hoonie,” you cooed as you continued, your boyfriend rolling his eyes with a laugh. “are you calling me ugly now,” he questioned jokingly, making you scoff and gently shove him with your elbow. everyone was watching helping to get it even by telling you how to spread it or where to put more.

once you finished you went to the bathroom and washed it off, shaving down the hairs that needed to be cleaned on his neck. you then helped rewash and fix his damp hair when finished. sitting together on his bed afterwards, his hair in a beanie with a giggle as you both spoke, you far more annoyed than him.

“hoon, i am just saying the mullet needs to go,” you whined as he shook his head with a laugh. “nope i like it,” he argued, wiggling his brows. you laughed and shook your head. the rest of the day was spent singing karaoke in the living room and lots of fond cuddling between you and your boyfriend.

you ran your hand into his hair and smiled, softly kissing him as you murmured a final merry christmas and him to you before knocking out on the couch. (now enters seungcheol and soonyoung who both look at the two of you and scoff, leaving you both to sleep there.) (not before the eldest runs back and covers you both with a quick ruffle of each of your hair.)

#mine #oneshot #svt #sss #2017 #sorry for such a late gift im terrible

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idlemusingsofalex-blog · 8 years ago

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Parties aren’t just for Elves

A first chapter of a Skyrim fanfiction, featuring my two most often used characters Ae’or and Vraelren.

Enjoy!

Vræl'ren sighed deeply, cool red wine swirling on his tongue as he watched the party move around him. Clad in Thalmor robes minus the hood, he had a striking stature as one tall enough to overshadow even the tallest Nord. Hands bare, his gold skin was marred with numerous paper thin scars, all a shade lighter than their flat, pale gold background.

He glanced around the large hall, emotionless eyes roving the crowds of Mer and humans alike. His hands clenched against the crystal goblet in his grasp, suddenly regretting his lack of gloves as he stared into the swirling depths of the deep crimson drink. The tune merrily drifting over the tumultuous people was foreign to him, with the simple rhythms common in human songs, to the point where one was near indistinguishable from the other.

The swinging creak of a door opening then quickly shutting pulled him out of his trancelike state, eyes focussing on a small Breton woman who sidled to his side. A wry smile from him made her look up at the elf with happiness, a giddy look furthered by the wine and mead that flowed like water in this party. She was clad in a fine dress of Prussian blue, one that subtly clashed with her lighter brown hair, highlighted in fantastic gold and orange hues as the sunlight slashed through it. "You look wonderful tonight." He whispered, eyes trailing along her body as the wine dulled his senses to an almost carefree attitude, or, at least he thought it did. She grinned in response, her arm wrapping around his thin waist as he placed his drink down on the polished wood bar. A low, soft tune took over the room as the guests fell silent, all turning to the group of musicians on the far side of the hall. A burly Nord whistled again, and began to sing in soft tones. "I'll swim and sail on savage seas with ne'er a fear of drowning, And gladly ride the waves of life, If you will marry me..." His voice faded only a little as a deep thrumming of a strange instrument grew from soft to almost loud, reverberating in the room like a massive creature mid slumber. "No scorching sun, nor freezing cold, will stop me on my journey, If you would promise me your heart..." A female voice piped up along his, soft lilting tones mixing in beautifully with his deep baritones. "And love me for eternity." The song became more jovial as the couple continued, several party members began to clap as couples took to dancing, an old dance from High Rock that was custom at weddings and births. Ae'or tugged on Vrael'ren's waist "Come on, we both know this one!" she laughed, one that made Vrael'ren smile like a fool. Movements strong and steady, they stood evenly distant, bowed once, and slowly moved toward each other, each step in time with the drum. They hardly noticed the stares of the surrounding onlookers, some in awe, others in confusion as the high elf and breton lass took to one of the oldest dances in time. Spinning faster, and with practised ease, they both grasped each others forearm with one hand, feet stepping in time as the fell together and broke apart, not noticing the other dancing couples moving out of the way to lead them to the centre. There they walked in a treaded circle, palms flat against each others and moving faster to the climax of the song, "To love and kiss and sweetly hold For the dancing and the dreaming! Through all life's sorrows And delights I'll keep your laugh inside me! I'll swim and sail the savage seas with ne'er a fear of drowning, If you will marry me!" At this, the couples of the room sung together, including the onlookers, as the song reached its end, fading into silence and heavy breathing interspersed with laughter. He would have been happy, if it wasnt for the sour face catching his eye and grabbing his arm "Ælsonfeth" "Elenwen" "My solar, if you will" her voice like daggers, she gently pressed her nails into his arm, a warning that turning her down would be unwise. "Of course." He turned to Ae'or, stealing a kiss on her cheek "I'll be a few minutes, go, drink some water." he whispered as he stepped away, following the other High elf to a secluded building across the courtyard. "What in the Eight were you thinking?" she asked, her voice level yet threatening to screech at any moment "It is a party, First Emissary, dancing is to be expected." He retorted, eyes serious and emotionless as glass. "This /affair/" she emphasised, "has gone on far too long. You know the implications of that dance and if you're thinking of marrying her-" "I am" he cut her off, eyes flickering dangerously, "and unless you wish to be truly immersed in this "scandal" as you so call it, you would do well to remember that my personal life is none of your business, /Elenwen/." He growled, a faint, deep throated one that trailed behind his words like a poison snake, willing to bite. Elenwen paled slightly before blinking, "Very well, you understand I will write of this to your father? I highly doubt he would be pleased to hear that his only son not only left his first wife to die, but also wishes to marry a Breton girl whom he's never once met nor even heard of." Vræl'ren stiffened at her words, his noble stature accentuated by his black and gold clothes. "I believe he's heard of her. Word of a Dragonborn on Nirn once more would spread even to the Isles if I am not mistaken." He answered, face calm and steady. Elenwen flinched at the word, as though it caused her pain to even hear it, an incredulous look cast on her face like a deep shadow. "You jest. She can't possibly be Dragonborn. She is no Nord and certainly doesn't fit the part of a dragon slayer, there is no possible way she could have destroyed the World-Eater himself." "Destroyed and devoured his soul." He added, "it would be best if you did not meddle in others affairs, Elenwen, lest it turn face and bite you." At this, he turned to the door, opened slightly and allowing a gentle swirl of snow carried on a breeze to float inside. "Good evening to you, First Emissary." Elenwen clutched her quill with intensity, every vein on her slim hand thrown up in sharp relief by the flickering candlelight. Furiously, she began to scratch at the parchment underhand, the slick tip of the feathered quill cutting in arcing loops across the yellowed surface. 'Prime Archivist Gabrielus Ælsonfeth I bring news of your son... '

#fanfiction #skyrim #altmer #breton #romance #period drama

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elesianne · 8 years ago

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A Silmarillion fanfic

Summary: As a child Caranthir loves quiet mornings and Celegorm loves getting up early, so of course they fight at the breakfast table. Sometimes there are casualties, but luckily they can be fixed with a little help from brothers and a few stolen tools.

Tag-type thingies: rating: General audiences; characters: Caranthir, Celegorm, Maedhros, Maglor, Curufin, Fëanor; some keywords: brothers, kid Fëanorions, family drama/angst/fluff

A/N: I feel a bit bad making Celegorm the 'villain' of a Caranthir-centred piece again, so let me assure you that I don't think Celegorm is always a little devil towards Caranthir or his brothers in general – just some of the time. When they are children Moryo likes cats and Tyelco likes dogs, and they fight like cats and dogs much of the time.

I don't know anything about mechanical toys, so please suspend your disbelief if my ignorance makes it necessary.

Many thanks to @maedhrosrussandol for looking this over and spotting my mistakes! Any that remain are probably ones I inserted afterwards while editing.

(Also posted on AO3 etc.)

Brothers and other beasts

Mornings are the time of day when Morifinwë likes his family the least. He is slow to wake up, and his brothers and sometimes even his parents irritate him by behaving noisily when he is still half-asleep and trying to rouse enough to eat his breakfast.

And then at the breakfast table, Maitimo and Macalaurë converse much too spiritedly with each other and with their parents, and Macalaurë often finishes his breakfast first to squeeze in a little practise before leaving for his music lesson. Moryo doesn't understand why he is allowed to do it in the room next to the breakfast room with the door open. There's quite enough noise there already without Macalaurë's playing and singing drifting in.

But the worst source of noise, and the worst irritant of Moryo's mornings, is Tyelcormo. Like his recently given mother-name attests, Tyelco is a morning person, always the first up of the family, even before baby Curufinwë who like most infants is fond of beginning his day early by screaming for food and attention.

Moryo hopes that Curvo will also turn out to be a morning person, or at least that Tyelco will go bang on his door at an unacceptable time before breakfast and no longer on Moryo's, which he still does even though Moryo has shouted at him many times to go away to bother someone else. Maitimo and Macalaurë are not as early risers as Tyelco but they are not quite as grumpy in the mornings as Moryo either.

Which is why Moryo can't understand why Tyelcormo has to bother him, of all people, at the breakfast table on so many mornings. Surely Tyelco should know by now, when Moryo hasn't been a baby for many years, that he wants to eat his porridge and fruit in peace.

'Shut up, Tyelco', he snaps when his next eldest brother asks him for the second time if Moryo will come see the neighbours' puppies with him. 'I already told you, not today. Mama promised to let me try making something of my own on her pottery wheel.'

'Mother isn't home yet, so we could go before she returns if we finish our breakfast quickly', Tyelco says and casts a beseeching look at Athyallë, their nurse who is supervising breakfast this morning. Their parents are at an early meeting with grandfather Finwë at the palace.

Moryo rubs at his eyes that still feel like they want to stay closed, not take in the bright golden light in the breakfast room, and he wishes that Tyelco were not sitting right next to him. 'I told you no. What is wrong with your stupid ears?'

'Boys', warns Athyallë but neither of the quarrelling brothers heeds her warning.

'You're just scared of the puppies, I bet', says Tyelco, his mouth set in a sour, stubborn line. 'You're a little scaredy-cat yourself.'

'I am not!'

'A little red-faced scaredy-cat', Tyelco taunts him.

Moryo clenches his hands into fists and stares hard at his plate of fruit. Mama and Papa have explained that he mustn't let Tyelco's taunting incite him to violence, because hitting one's brother is wrong. Moryo wishes it weren't so very hard not to. Somewhere in the background he can hear the nurse chastising Tyelco and possibly consoling him, but he can't even make out the words through the haze of anger around him.

Then Tyelco makes a meowing noise, apparently not hearing the scolding either, and Moryo swings at him, earning a loud 'Moryo!' from Maitimo and a shocked 'Morifinwë!' from Athyallë.

Moryo's swing only catches Tyelco's shoulder, but he knows it is enough to earn a punishment. He jumps down from his chair to run to his own room; he'd be sent there anyway.

'You're forgetting this!' shouts Tyelco and throws something after him. Moryo turns back to catch it but he is too late and the object falls on the floor with a loud crashing sound that worries Moryo.

Slowly he bends to pick it up. It is the emerald-eyed copper cat that his father gave him on his recent begetting day. The cat is the nicest thing that Moryo owns, and he brought it to the breakfast table because baby Curvo likes watching it in the morning treelight, and because Moryo himself is very proud of it and of his papa's beautiful workmanship.

The cat has a clever mechanism inside by which its tail swishes when one strokes its ears, but as soon as Moryo lifts it from the floor and hears a tinkle he knows it's broken. Despondently he tries anyway, just in case, to make the tail move, but it doesn't. One of the ears is crooked, too.

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to', says Tyelco who has also left his place at the table and stands staring, wide-eyed, at his little brother and his broken toy. 'Moryo–'

'I hate you', Moryo shouts at his most hateful brother, and runs to the refuge of his own room.

If there was a lock on his door he would lock it, and indeed he has petitioned is parents for one to be fitted, but they say that he is too young for it.

So Moryo just shuts the door with as loud a bang as he can manage and crawls into the space in the corner between his desk and wardrobe, a spot which is getting too small for him but remains the best hiding place in his room as long as he can squeeze himself in there.

Tears burn at his eyes as he cradles the broken cat in his arms. He promised his father that he would take good care of it, that he was old enough to be trusted with something so precious. And even though it was Tyelco's fault that the cat broke, Moryo knows that father will be disappointed in him as well. If he hadn't lost his temper and hit Tyelco first–

No, he will not cry. He is old enough to not do that, at least. Stubbornly he rubs away the threatening tears and swallows past the lump in his throat, and holds on to his anger instead.

Soon he hears the door of his room opening, and though he can't see the person from his spot in the corner, he guesses who it is.

'Moryo', says Maitimo gently, and his long legs enter Moryo's field of vision.

'Go away.'

'You're upset.' Instead of going away Maitimo sits down in front of Moryo's hiding place and pokes his head in. 'Mother and father are going to be away for a while longer, and Curvo is fussing so the nurse is busy. But I'm here, for a while anyway before I have to leave for my lessons.'

Moryo doesn't say anything, just stares at his own feet that are still clad in slippers because he had been too sleepy to dress properly before breakfast.

'Tyelco apologised, you know, and I sent him to his room as well. He's not going to see those puppies today.'

Unexpectedly this doesn't make Moryo feel any better, and he still doesn't say anything.

Maitimo sighs. 'I'm sure that your cat can be repaired. Father made it, of course he can make it work again.'

'I told you to go away', says Moryo who doesn't want to explain to his eldest brother how it twists his stomach to think of the disappointed look he'll see in their father's eyes when he finds out that Moryo hadn't been responsible and sensible enough to take care of his fine gift.

Surely Maitimo, who excels in his studies and rides as well as grown men and gets along with everyone without ever losing his temper uncontrollably like Moryo seems to do every day, doesn't even know the terrible weight of disappointing Fëanáro.

'I just want to help. Talk to me, Moryo', Maitimo asks, and his kind tone is the only reason Moryo doesn't snarl his answer.

'I don't want to talk', he says. 'Please go to your lessons now, Maitimo.'

A pat on Moryo's knee and Maitimo is gone, though Moryo hears him hesitate for a moment at the door before he strides down the hallway.

The next one to arrive is Macalaurë who stops by Moryo's room before leaving for his music tutor's house.

He knows Moryo's hiding places as well as Maitimo, but instead of coming to the corner where Moryo still sulks, Macalaurë sits cross-legged on his brother's bed and strums the lute he is already carrying with him.

'Not that song, I don't like it.'

Macalaurë smiles, knowing his irate little brother can't see it. 'Which song, then?'

Moryo tells him, and Macalaurë obediently plays it. At the end of the song he says, 'I'll come home to practise after my lesson. You can come to my room then if you want to listen. Or talk.'

Moryo likes both of his oldest two brothers since they are not as annoying and terrible as Tyelcormo, but he rather prefers Macalaurë because he doesn't try to make him talk, just tells him that he can if he wants to.

'Have a good lesson', Moryo says, his anger slowly evaporating, and Macalaurë plays one last note for him as a goodbye.

Moryo starts thinking about the mechanism inside the cat and whether he could perhaps fix it himself… But he finds himself getting sleepy sitting in his quiet corner now that his anger doesn't burn so hot anymore.

Tyelcormo doesn't come through the door; he arrives by the window that no one has closed after it was opened to let in fresh morning air, and he startles drowsing Moryo.

When he hears the clatter that Tyelco's clambering in through the window and jumping down from the sill makes, Moryo sticks his head out of his hiding place.

'I thought you'd been told to stay in your room', he says grumpily but not very angrily because Tyelco looks very contrite.

'I was. But Maitimo was too busy to remember to lock my window, and Athyallë always underestimates our cleverness. So I escaped that way and came through the garden.' Tyelco takes an apple from his pocket and rolls it along the floor to Moryo's corner. 'You didn't finish your breakfast.'

Moryo takes the apple, wipes it on his shirt and bites into it since he is indeed hungry.

'Are you going to tell on me? That I left my room?' Tyelco plays with the hem of his tunic, pretending not to care.

'Why did you come here?' asks Moryo. The apple is delicious, tangy yet sweet and still warm from the bright light of a late summer's morning.

'I wanted to apologise again. I'm really sorry I broke your cat. I know you care about it a lot, and I didn't mean to break it. I was just really angry.'

'I know.' Moryo touches the copper cat's crooked ear. He knows how Tyelco felt because he was just as angry himself. It's the way they are so similar in this, he and Tyelco, and so different in other ways, that makes it difficult to get along.

'I'm not going to tell on you', he says after a moment, at the same time as Tyelco says, 'I can try to fix it for you–'

Both boys stop speaking; Tyelcormo begins again first. 'If I manage to fix it you won't have to tell Papa.'

'That would be good', says Moryo, even though telling their father would get Tyelco into more trouble than it would him. 'I've been thinking about it myself – you're not that much better at fine mechanics than I am, you know. I have a few tools here in my room, enough to open up the cat, and perhaps we could… but you will get into trouble if someone finds out you're not in your room.'

Tyelcormo looks a little hesitant. 'Maybe I will stay here for just a little while, to help you get started.'

Moryo crawls out of his hiding place and sets the cat on the floor between himself and Tyelco. They investigate the toy and discuss what to do, and soon come to the conclusion that Moryo doesn't have enough tools secreted away in his room to complete the necessary repairs.

'I know where father keeps his home toolbox', Tyelco says with a determined look. 'And it's not in a locked room right now. I can go get what we need from there.'

'If you get caught, you'll be in a lot of trouble', Moryo reminds him. 'Father doesn't like us touching his things without permission.'

'It will be my act of penance to do this for you', says Tyelcormo, mimicking the pompous manner Macalaurë sometimes assumes, and it is almost enough to make Moryo smile for the first time this morning. 'And I am good at sneaking anyway', Tyelco adds.

Moryo opens up the cat while Tyelco is gone and determines that he can probably set the little cogs and gears inside the cat back in place if his brother manages to secure the right tools. But oh, how sad the cat looks split in two. Moryo strokes its shining copper-wire whiskers and promises it that it will be all right again soon.

Tyelco returns after a short time, carrying both the tools and baby Curufinwë.

'What did you bring him here for?' Moryo hisses, quietly because the door is still open. He closes it while Tyelco sets both of his burdens down on the floor.

'I ran into him in the hallway and he grabbed my leg, I had to bring him or he would have started making noise.'

Moryo eyes his baby brother suspiciously but to his relief, Curufinwë doesn't look like he's about to eat the small parts on the floor. He just sits and looks at them keenly, making noises that are almost but not quite words.

'He must have escaped nurse too. But she is going to come looking for him pretty soon, he's too small to be left to wander around the house alone.' Tyelcormo looks rather uneasy now, and Moryo decides to be kind to him.

'You have done your act of penance, you can go back to your own room before Athyallë finds you here', Moryo says. 'I can fix the cat on my own now that I have the tools, and I'll keep an eye on Curvo.'

He has very recently been granted the dubious honour of being allowed to look after the baby on his own for short periods of time. He is not sure whether it is because he has been deemed responsible enough, or because Curvo has grown big enough to not be very easily breakable anymore.

'Good', says Tyelco, and he is on the windowsill before Moryo can even blink. 'I'll see you later', and then he is already gone.

'You are very good at sneaking around, too', Moryo remarks to the baby as he chooses one of the delicate tools and begins to set the little pieces inside the cat in their own places. 'Not good enough to fool mother, of course, since she seems to have eyes on her back. And you never escape from father, do you?'

Curufinwë makes an insistent noise and points at the shiny metal piece in Moryo's hand.

'Do you want to know what this is?' Moryo asks, and Curvo lets out a yelp that could charitably be interpreted as 'yes'.

So Moryo explains what he is doing while he repairs the cat. It takes him much longer to do so than it would his father, but he is confident that he will eventually succeed in getting all the little pieces to stay in the right place at the same time.

That is how the nurse finds them a little later, sitting on the floor with the disembowelled toy cat between them, Curufinwë's bright eyes following every movement of Morifinwë's hands.

'Just don't let him eat any glue', says the nurse, and then the exasperated woman has already left to go do laundry before Moryo can say that he isn't using glue.

'If I was then the mechanism wouldn't work, of course', he explains to Curufinwë instead.

Moryo has just put the halves of the cat's body back together and is testing the tail-swishing mechanism when his father appears at the door.

'How has your morning been, Morifinwë?' Fëanáro frowns but his tone is friendly enough. He joins his sons on the floor and lifts Curufinwë onto his lap. 'I heard that there was some unpleasantness at breakfast.'

'It's fine now.' The cat seems to be in perfect working order, so Moryo lifts his gaze to his father. 'I figured out how the mechanism works, Papa.'

'Did you now? I expected it to take you a while longer. Well done.' Fëanáro isn't one for excessive praise, but he runs his hands through Moryo's messy hair in a gentle gesture. 'Well done for looking after Curvo, too.'

'He was quiet and still and just watched what I did so it was easy', Moryo says, his face glowing for something other than anger for once. It is not such a bad morning after all.

A/N: Some people may have noticed that I have developed quite a big soft spot for Caranthir...

Thank you for reading! If you liked little Moryo and his brothers' antics, please let me know :)

#how caranthir and celegorm fight like cats and dogs but also support each other #this was so much fun to write and unusually easy too #i love imagining these brothers as kids #caranthir #silmarillion fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction #silmarillion #tolkien #brothers and other beasts #kid fëanorions #my fics #elesianne's fics

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