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wooyoungisbaby · 6 months ago

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Park Seonghwa; an absolute sweetheart

Y E S. this is canon :)

You’re still not convinced they didn’t hire their entire social life from a modelling agency.

Says the person whose bestie is Hongjoong? 🤣 But yeah, also canon. 💅✨

this is what im picturing Hwa looking like when he’s modelling here

“This is going on all the socials, hyung, we’re going for a viral sensation here! Viral!”

i know in my heart he’s an ipad kid.

but after last night activities, you’d been overtaken by an unshakable urge to check in on him.

She care him so much 🥺 i mean i already knew that BUT STILL this is so sweet. I can’t wait to be punched right in the feels with this, somehow.

[...] but now you understand his chivalrous instincts a little better.

They’re bonding!!!!! over wrecking woo :3

hanakotoba

Random as fuck fact, but i learned this word in a another fandom (black butler), and it made me smile to see it used here :)) “No, that’s what you’re saying. I never used that word,” you tease him. “…But yeah. You look pretty sexy.”

-under my breath- fuck him over the counter while hes wearing his work apron

Wooyoung has always had an uncanny ability to capture your happiness in his photos, bringing your inner joy to the surface.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭🥺🥺🥺🥺

Aughhh gosh, the kissing part!! It’s so good how you wrote this. I think Wooyoung is thinking he’s just like, being playful and not making a big deal out of it, which is totally in line with his fun, upbeat personality. He’s playful and a jokester and doesn’t want to make you feel bad, i just think that, yeah, he misjudged the severity of the situation - not that it was ever super intense, just that he should have backed away instead of continuing to play around with something that’s serious to Reader. Like, he might think he’s helping my making light of it. If he knew what an avalanche of emotions and thoughts this all set off in Reader’s head, he would be so upset :((

Every time you have to remind him or San of a boundary, it feels like you are speeding up the clock on this relationship

TRANS PERSON MOOD!!!!!!

“It made me feel like you got one foot out the door already.”

Oughhh he’s being so good at communicating :’O they both are!! Needed a little San assistance, sure, but they’re getting there!

It’s so cool how you set up the backstory with Hongjoong leaving ; ; it’s such an interesting parallel to what Reader is imagining will happen with Woosan. And it seems to be the root of those particular insecurities of hers as well :’((

but then he grabs your hand without even meeting your eyes and pulls you up on your feet, right into a hug.

This particular phrasing is making me feel like the #angst isnt over yet :’))))

and as your eyes meet, you know that things will be alright between you.

… ah :’) aaaa im so happy

monochrome artwork of vast mountains and woodlands

me, overanalyzing: omg… san is the mountains and Woo is the woodlands bc hes a fox……. whoagh.

Wooyoung is dressed in a shirt and baggy boxers

I NEED HIM CARNALLY!!!! uh who said that

i had to look up what a box-tie is, and it looks so cozy and also restrictive in a Good way. he would look so good in that =u= his arms and shoulders are so, like… slender. i think a box-tie would accentuate how small he is, but also how relatively muscley his shoulders are. he would look a little pathetic but like in a 100% endearing way obviously.

Woo and Reader

rope is one of the few things that truly slows him down

…makes him bouncy? chicken butterfly?

He is as meticulous as always, an easy rhythm to his movement, like the cords are an extension of his body, wrapping himself around you.

this added such a comfy mood and feel for me, the sentence feels almost like getting a Sannie hug :’)

Blamed me for wasting his time.

well. i am killing him :)

Now I don’t know if we ever really were friends at all.

my goD that’s so….. yeah. I’ve read stories online written by women who had what they thought were good friendships with men, only to find out that to the men, it had been a build-up the whole time to somthing “more.” They all felt betrayed, understandably, and while they had just wanted to be friends, the men had “girlfriend zoned” them. Which i think is way more of a real thing than the friendzone. Being friends is literally a normal thing, and it’s on the men if they enter a friendship with expectations of romance. anYWAY--

like he was the one person who’d finally ‘fix’ you

yikes! :D

You start to giggle when you realise what he’s doing, and Wooyoung joins in when he realises how futile and ill-conceived his efforts are.

im DYING this is too cute!!! need to kiss his nose ;A;

“…You really never considered that??” “Not until yesterday!”

Woo lives in the moment so much, and i think that’s probably true about the real Wooyoung as well. He strikes me as the type, anyway :)

It is an odd thought; all this time, you wondered how much time you’d have before San and Wooyoung inevitably moved on, while San wondered the very same thing about you.

And furthermore,

“Seriously, this all would’ve been sorted out so fast if either of you just talked to me about it. Idiots.”

communication good!!! 👏

you’ve seen often enough how he — and San — menace their friends with kisses

Bahahaa xD they’re the same in every universe <3

your presence treasured for exactly the way you are.

aaaaaaaaa she deserves this so much, esp. after that shithead in her past!!

the ehndhnhjnh >w< YES, bite his ass!!

i really, really liked this chapter! i love this fic =u= it was so nice how they were bound together at the end, it felt calming and comforting that they could just focus on the words that were said instead of a lot of body language. It felt like they were able to be more honest with their words because they were already close together physically, that way reassuring each other that they care about each other a lot. Like a conversation that had a baseline of affection and (platonic!) love, making it difficult for there to be misunderstandings. that’s what i imagine, anyway. they’re already hugging each other, lot of skin contact, lovingly tied up by San. i think it’s easier to be open and honest this way, potentially.

also really liked the Seonghwa cameo =u=

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt9

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, friends with benefits

ch. summary: You visit Wooyoung at work, where one of your ground rules is tested.

wc: 7.7k

ch. warnings: gratuitous Seonghwa cameo, angst, a fight that lasts for like 15 minutes oop, sorta hurt/comfort, non-sexual bondage, dom San, sub Wooyoung, sub reader, rope space, mentions of past arophobia and amatonormativity

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: there is no smut bc i split this chapter up for length — but the next update will make up for that, promise!!! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

a/n³: in-fic time, less than a day has passed between the end of chapter 7 and the start of chapter 9. this feels worth mentioning, considering what happens in this one lol

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

The florist shop where Wooyoung works has a colourful and refreshing showroom, filled with creative flower arrangements, lush potted plants and idyllic garden ornaments. Sweet fragrances permeate the air, bright sunlight comes in from the large storefront windows.

The place is small and packed tight, greenery within arms’ reach wherever you stand; but organised and clean enough that it does not overwhelm the eye. And your vantage point by the counter gives you a nice overview of the store, including its two employees currently at work — but right now, they’re not exactly busy with selling flowers.

“Just relax, hyung!” Wooyoung says, exasperated, waving a hand at his friend and coworker. “Look natural!”

He has a camera pointed at Park Seonghwa; an absolute sweetheart and strong contender for the title of ‘most attractive person you have ever met’.

(A title that Wooyoung and San and literally every single one of their friends are in the running for. You’re still not convinced they didn’t hire their entire social life from a modelling agency.)

You watch them with amused interest. You’ve only met Seonghwa twice before, but he had enthusiastically greeted you when you entered the shop earlier. Now all that bright friendliness has faded, replaced by a stiff smile that’s stretched uncomfortably across his face.

“I don’t look natural?” he asks, nervous in his role as a model. “Why do you need me anyway, isn’t all this for the webshop? Why aren’t you taking photos of the displays?”

Wooyoung sighs impatiently, shaking his head at Seonghwa’s obliviousness. “Are you kidding me? The internet is gonna eat your face up. This is going on all the socials, hyung, we’re going for a viral sensation here! Viral! Now go stand next to those hibiscus and look pretty, alright?”

While Seonghwa moves around the store for a good spot, Wooyoung shakes his head and gives you a pointed look.

“Can you believe this? Man has a phone bursting with selfies and now he gets camera shy? I really thought this’d be a cake-walk.”

You giggle at Wooyoung’s mumbled grousing, and give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. You never actually planned to visit Wooyoung at work today, but after last night activities, you’d been overtaken by an unshakable urge to check in on him.

He’d been yours to take care of, bound and blindfolded, and you can’t shake off an oddly protective feeling, like he is still yours to take care of even now. (San also always insists on dropping by at your place after an intense scene. You always poked fun at his overprotectiveness, but now you understand his chivalrous instincts a little better.)

There really was no need for you to worry; Wooyoung is energetic and upbeat, firing off jokes at Seonghwa in an attempt to relax him.

“What if I pretend to be a customer? Just to set the scene, distract him from the camera,” you suggest to Wooyoung. “But no pictures of me!” you add quickly. “I don’t need to be on this place’s instagram or whatever, alright?”

Wooyoung perks up at your offer. “Yeah, that could work! Come, hyung, pretend it’s just another day on the job.”

He ushers you to join Seonghwa between the colourful dahlias and asters, where you exaggeratedly clear your throat and roll your shoulders, readying yourself for your acting performance.

“Okay, so help me out here,” you tell Seonghwa, overly serious. “Let’s say I want to give my neighbour some flowers. What type of bouquet would I need to communicate my sympathies because his boyfriend never stops bullying him?”

“Oi!” Wooyoung protests, but he has to bite down a laugh to keep his camera steady. “Hwa, maybe you should put together something for a poor guy whose boyfriend’s neighbour keeps bullying him!”

But Seonghwa lets out an adorable giggle, and his smile relaxes now you’ve put him onto a task — no matter how silly the task is. “Well, edelweiss are often associated with courage, that seems appropriate here, right?” he says, meandering through the store. “Or what about some red camellia? Means ‘to persist with grace’ in hanakotoba.”

“San does show remarkable grace throughout his many struggles,” you agree solemnly.

“Same can’t be said about you,” Wooyoung retaliates with a grin.

You stick out your tongue at him, very much proving his point. But then you quietly hang back while Seonghwa enthusiastically digs into the particulars to fulfil your fake request. Your distraction works exactly as intended; now that he has relaxed, his natural sweetness gets a chance to shine on camera.

Seonghwa continues babbling about flower language at you, until the photo-shoot is put on hold when a soft bell chimes through the store. The door opens, and an actual customer steps inside.

Seonghwa helps the distraught-looking young man, who seems to have made some disastrous choices in his relationship — but you don’t listen in on their conversation for too long. Instead, you and Wooyoung reconvene at the counter.

He takes you through his haul of photos, badgering you for feedback. Your lack of expertise never seems to stop Wooyoung from valuing your opinion, always eager to hear what you have to say. So you point out the photos you like best, and happily let him use you as a soundboard.

He nods thoughtfully when you admit to liking the photos where Seonghwa is still just slightly nervous; there is endearing about his tentative smile, making his beauty approachable rather than intimidating. “Maybe you could a few from that side of the store too?” you suggest, gesturing to an area to the side. “The succulent arrangements there are really cute.”

“Oh, good idea!” His eyes flicker over the displays, and already you can see the gears in his head turning, working out the best angles and observing how the natural light falls.

“Do you want me to take over the camera for a bit?” you ask.

“You? Why?”

You shrug, idly looking through more of the photographs. “You said you wanted a viral sensation, right? Getting some shots of you definitely won’t hurt.”

“Are you saying I look sexy?” Wooyoung grins as he leans on the counter, running a deliberate hand through his hair.

“No, that’s what you’re saying. I never used that word,” you tease him. “…But yeah. You look pretty sexy.”

You see no point in lying. There’s something unreasonably appealing about Wooyoung in a dark green apron, fitted around his slim waist; especially combined with a simple off-white shirt, rolled up to his elbows to show off his veiny forearms. He has his hair partially tied back into a half ponytail, the loose strands falling attractively into his face.

Wooyoung lets out a pleased giggle, bumping his shoulder into you and sticking close. His fingers reach to play against your wrist, tapping and drawing circles on your skin. He’s been acting especially clingy today, making you wonder if he also feels the remnants of yesterday’s scene just like you are.

Either way, you don’t give too much thought to his touchy-feely mood, until you keep looking through the photos — and see yourself back on the screen.

“Woo, didn’t I tell you? Not me!” you complain, whapping him on the arm, but it’s hard not to be struck by the picture; the way he has caught your face in the sunlight, your eyes glimmering with enthusiasm as you play customer for Seonghwa. Wooyoung has always had an uncanny ability to capture your happiness in his photos, bringing your inner joy to the surface. Sometimes the intensity of your own expression catches you off guard, making you wonder if your smile ever used to be that wide before.

Wooyoung pats your shoulder reassuringly, holding you into a half-hug. “This photo isn’t for the socials; it’s for me,” he grins and leans in, his lips suddenly pressed against your skin for a firm peck on the cheek.

You freeze instantly.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks, but then his memory kicks in. “Ahh right, sorry sorry! No kissing when we’re not— Yep, got it.”

“Yeah,” you say awkwardly. It’s fine, you tell yourself. Wooyoung forgot a boundary, he corrected himself; that’s all. Drop it and move on.

But Wooyoung, caught up in his playful mood, is not dropping it. He tilts his head, his eyes curved with a happy smile of mischievous curiosity. “So really, not just on the lips, no kisses at all? Any room to haggle out a deal? How about… on the top of your head?” he teases, pretending to move in. “Or the tip of your nose?”

Wooyoung keeps feigning more attempts at a kiss, treating the line drawn by your ground rule like a tightrope, balancing right across and threatening to topple over.

And there is no safety net underneath, not for you.

Your good mood shrinks away as Wooyoung happily jokes around, a tightness freezing you up. “No, no don’t,” you say, stiffly pressing a hand against Wooyoung’s shoulder to push him back. “Don’t fool around, Woo. Not this time.”

A strange mix of guilt and discomfort tangles sharply around your chest. Discomfort at Wooyoung’s flippant reaction to your boundary, guilt for having a boundary against one of his preferred displays of affection in the first place.

Wooyoung sobers up when he sees how badly he misjudged the situation. “Hey, sorry alright?” he says, raising his hands in apology. “I didn’t realise it was a big deal.”

In a way, you agree. The kiss itself didn’t need to be a big deal, not if Wooyoung had just let you shrug it off.

But either way, it is part of a big deal.

Once again, you hear the clock in your head, ticking away until the end of your arrangement with San and Wooyoung. Right now, it’s louder than ever.

Most days you just try to enjoy the moment, and avoid thinking too much about it. Now the full weight threatens to come crashing down on you, right in the middle of the flower shop.

Usually you imagine it ending by a slow drifting of interest; a gradual, undefined shift where you fade into the background noise of each others’ lives. Still friends, hopefully, but no longer closely entangled the way you are now.

But the kiss is a blunt reminder that things can also shift in a different direction; San or Wooyoung might grow to want things, feelings, that you cannot offer them. You are happy with the way things are now — but how long before they aren’t? What if this one small stupid kiss is the first of many clashes? What if this is the first sign of some inherent incompatibility between their needs and yours?

What if they ever decide that what you can give them isn’t enough?

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you stay stiffly, trying to keep the tight spool of emotions contained.

Hurt flashes across Wooyoung’s face at your obvious attempt to brush him off. “I’m worrying about it a little,” he says, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “You know I didn’t—”

But Wooyoung swallows down the rest of his words when Seonghwa joins him behind the counter with an armful of flowers for the customer. Wooyoung magics on his friendliest smile, amicably chatting away with the distressed young man while Seonghwa deftly assembles a beautiful arrangement of soft rosy and lavender hues.

Together they comfort their upset customer, assuring him his girlfriend will love these, though you know they’ll be like two gossiping aunties the moment this poor guy leaves the store.

You try to relax during the wait, but suddenly the store’s sweet floral aroma is cloying to the senses, threatening you with a headache.

You just want to get out, take a few deep breaths of fresh air, and ease down your discomfort without Wooyoung constantly casting glances at you. His bright customer service smile hides most of his true expression, but there is definitely a worry in his eyes, and you can’t stop thinking about the earlier hurt on his face.

The customer leaves with his flowers and a soft jingle of the door chime, and Seonghwa turns to Wooyoung.

“How about we do a video too? Talk the boss into making a tiktok account for the store?” Seonghwa suggests, his nerves fully flipped over into excitement now that he’s gotten comfortable with the camera. In his enthusiasm, he clocks a beat too late that something is off with his coworker. “Uh, Wooyoung? Everything alright?”

“Not sure,” Wooyoung says, lines drawn on his brow as he looks at you. “Are we alright?”

“Yeah, I just— I’m gonna head back, see you later, okay?” you say, the headache no longer just a threat.

Wooyoung’s worry falls away from his face to make way for disbelief, and an annoyance prickles to life as you try to brush him off — again. “Wait, are you serious? C’mon, it’s only like five minutes ‘til closing time, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t be like that.”

Unsure, Seonghwa looks between you and Wooyoung. “Hey, why don’t you just leave early, Wooyo?” he offers. “It’s pretty quiet today, I got this. My turn to close up shop anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Wooyoung hesitates, but gives in when Seonghwa gives him a friendly nudge. “Yeah, see you tomorrow. I owe you one, Hwa.”

The way back to the apartment building is quite possibly the most awkward that things have ever been between you and Wooyoung — which is saying something, considering the whole ‘you walking in on him and San having sex’-thing that kicked all of this off in the first place.

Neither of you bring up what just happened, honouring an unspoken agreement to wait until you’re back home. There are a few stilted attempts at smalltalk, like you and Wooyoung are both trying to keep some thin thread of connection alive; but there is mostly just silence.

Wooyoung quietly trudges next to you with his face drawn, hands stuffed in his pockets, and plenty of thoughts on his mind. (You can’t help but wonder; how many of those are second thoughts?)

It’s a painful contrast with how affectionately clingy he was before, but thankfully the apartment building is just one quick subway stop away, and then it is only an elevator ride up to the top floor. You follow Wooyoung into San’s place without really thinking about it, like that’s just where you are supposed to be.

Inside, Wooyoung shucks off his shoes and barely waits for you to follow him into the living room. “Okay, we’re home, can we talk now?” he says, looking back at you with a tight expression on his face. “Cause that back there? That wasn’t cool.”

San, who had been hanging out on the couch, puts down his phone and blinks in surprise at the heavy tension that just walked into his apartment. “What wasn’t cool?”

“It’s not—” you start, but Wooyoung bluntly interrupts you.

“I kissed her.”

“Wait, you what?” San says, now outright startled.

“On the cheek,” Wooyoung explains, then crosses his arms as he turns back to you. “And no, I shouldn’t have — but when you tried to ditch me like that? That wasn’t cool either.”

His frustration is contagious, and you feel yourself responding in kind. “You know what else isn’t cool? You doubling down on the whole thing and making a laugh of it instead of just backing off,” you bite at Wooyoung.

Anger blooms inside you; anger that has very little to do with that stupid kiss on the cheek.

Every time you have to remind him or San of a boundary, it feels like you are speeding up the clock on this relationship, rushing closer towards the end. And you can’t help but resent Wooyoung for making you do it twice.

“You think I like telling you no? I don’t!” you snap, the frustration now burning behind your eyes. “Whenever I gotta push back against something, I feel like I’m pushing you away. I don’t want that! I don’t want to push you away, so just— Stop making me!”

“Make you?” Wooyoung snaps back. “I didn’t make you do anything yesterday. You started on that whole ‘we can still be friends after we stop having sex’ business all on your own, and that felt like a pretty big shove to me.”

Poor San looks completely out of his depth, uncertain as he glances back-and-forth between arguments, but his eyes widen at Wooyoung’s words. “Wait, you want to stop this?” he asks, staring at you in shock.

“No, of course I don’t!” you say, flustered that San’s takeaway is the exact same as Wooyoung’s had been. “Why do you guys keep asking that?!”

“Because you’re the one who brought it up!” Wooyoung says, rolling his eyes at you.

Your mouth opens, then closes again. Shit. That’s… actually a good point. “Not because I want us to stop,” you say, your heated anger slowly cooling down to brittle embarrassment, “I’m just…”

“Wait, hang on, hang on,” San says, finally willing himself into motion.

Carefully, he takes your and Wooyoung’s hands, then leads you to sit on the couch with him in the middle. He doesn’t let go of your hands.

“So let me get this straight. You” — he looks pointedly at Wooyoung — “are upset because you don’t want her to push us away. And you” — he turns to look at you — “are upset because you also don’t want to push us away? So what the hell am I missing here? Aren’t you on the same page? Can we please maybe entertain the idea that you guys aren’t actually mad at each other!”

Now it’s Wooyoung’s turn to cool down, the frustration seeping out of his shoulders. He sighs, something releasing in his breath, then meets your eyes with a tentative grimace.

“I’m not mad at you,” he admits awkwardly. (San lets out a sigh of relief.) “What you said yesterday… maybe it shook me up a bit more than I realised.”

You mirror his grimace, struggling to meet his eyes. “I’m not mad either,” you say, equally awkward. “Sorry, I didn’t really think about how that question could sound to you. I was just looking for reassurance, I swear.”

San squeezes his hand around yours, daring a cautious little smile now the thorn has been taken out of this conversation. “Reassurance for what?”

“Just what I said,” you say with a rueful laugh, unsure how to explain better. “That we’ll still be friends even after things between us change.”

Wooyoung makes a noise of exasperation.

“No but see, that kinda pisses me off,” he says, getting worked up again. “Listen, I get what you were saying, that we don’t know what will happen in the future. But why are you so convinced we’re stopping this any time soon? Sure, we don’t know if it will go on forever, but isn’t that the same for anything? Hell, who can even say if San and I won’t ever break up either?”

“Um, I can?!” San interjects, giving Wooyoung a distressed look.

“I didn’t— Sannie, I’m not saying we will!” Wooyoung says, interrupting his own vehement monologue with a fond laugh, patting at San’s hair. “I just mean you never know! But bringing up stuff like ‘after’ and staying friends…” Wooyoung looks at you with a faded smile. “It made me feel like you got one foot out the door already.”

His words sink in slowly… and for the second time today, you’re forced to admit that Wooyoung sure is making a good point.

(And despite everything, you can’t help but feel a small burst of happiness at Wooyoung’s complete distaste at the thought of ending your arrangement.)

“Maybe… yeah. Maybe I do have a foot out,” you say wryly. “Past experiences have turned me into a bit of a pessimist, I guess. But if they taught me anything, it’s that whenever I got something more involved going on, one of two things always happens. Usually, the whole thing just… dissolves. Not always on purpose, but it does. We’re having fun, but then the fun wears off or it isn’t convenient anymore or something else comes along that’s simply more important.”

“You’re important to us,” Wooyoung protests, sulking.

“Yeah, well. I’m important to Hongjoong too. He still left,” you say sharply, and for the first time, you allow yourself some bitterness in that truth. (Obviously you would have told him to go, had he asked. He never asked. And really, what right did you have to expect him to? You are ‘just’ friends, after all. But fuck, it hurts.)

Wooyoung flinches back, blinking in surprise at your tone, and a fresh wave of guilt bubbles up inside you. You hate it. Why, even in the privacy of your own mind, do you feel guilty for not wanting to be put in second or third or last place for once?

You sigh, reaching across San’s lap to rest a hand on Wooyoung’s thigh. “Sorry Woo, that wasn’t fair,” you say, not thinking too much on if that’s true or not. Right now, you’re tired and just want to smooth things over, not set off another argument.

“It’s fine,” Wooyoung mumbles; and for a moment you worry that it is not fine at all. He stands up, shoulders low from fatigue as he stares at the floor — but then he grabs your hand without even meeting your eyes and pulls you up on your feet, right into a hug.

His grip on you is so tight it knocks the breath of out of you. One of his hands finds the space between your shoulder blades, fingers clinging at the fabric of your shirt, while the other cups the back of your head, drawing you even closer into his warmth.

You can’t see his face, burrowed against your shoulder, but you think you can hear a muffled “you couldn’t push me away if you tried”. A cautious smile curves around your lips, and you gently return his hug, carding your fingers through his dark hair.

It only takes a moment for another set of arms to join the fray, and you let out a soft ‘oof’ as the full strength of San wraps around you and Wooyoung, his firm body pressing into yours.

“You guys scared me,” he pouts, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. “Don’t ever do that to me again, you hear me? Are we all good now?”

You free up an arm to clutch at San’s shoulder; still a bit unsteady but reassured by their dual presences. “Better, definitely,” you allow with a soft smile.

Wooyoung lifts his head up. There is no anger in his face, but the furrow of his brow still hasn’t relaxed. “We are good,” he mumbles. “I still feel kinda shitty. I know I fool around a lot, but it was just supposed to be a bit of fun. Never meant to actually upset you.”

“I know,” you say, gently brushing through his hair. “It’s okay. Sorry I tried to shut you out.”

San looks from you to Wooyoung, gears turning behind his eyes as he sees you’re both not fully at peace yet. “Let’s take it easy tonight, alright?” he says with an encouraging smile. “You two go freshen up or take a nap or something, I’ll order some food, and after that we’ll make sure everyone gets all nice and relaxed. I may know just the thing.”

A ping of curiosity goes off at San’s last words, but you know asking won’t be any use; he likes to keep his surprises. “Thanks, San,” you smile back, “and thanks for snapping us out of it.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta be the sensible one around here,” he grins — and lets out a tiny, cute yelp when Wooyoung lovingly bites his shoulder.

“You think you’re the sensible one?” Wooyoung says in teasing disbelief, right back to his menacing ways.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Yeah, I’m with Woo on this one,” you say. “Sense? San, you bark at Byeol.”

San makes an offended noise. “Byeol grew up around pups, she doesn’t speak cat!” he defends himself, endearingly earnest.

“Ah yes, perfectly sensible,” Wooyoung drawls, exchanging a grin with you; and as your eyes meet, you know that things will be alright between you.

San tries to glare at you and Wooyoung, a look that is completely neutralised by the pout on his lips. “You two really want to piss off the guy who’s about to buy you dinner? That a road you want to go down?” he threatens, but there’s a poorly hidden, happy gleam in his eyes.

Wooyoung throws his arms around San, pressing an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. “Love you, babe!”

You hug San with equal enthusiasm, nuzzling against his shoulder. “Thank you, food daddy!”

“‘Food daddy’?!” San gives you a startled look but quickly sighs in defeat, patting you and Wooyoung on the head. “Fine, fine. Go take a shower or something and I’ll handle it.”

A long shower and a hot meal later, you find yourself in the familiar space of San’s bedroom; the white walls contrasted by dark sheets and curtains, with their the monochrome artwork of vast mountains and woodlands. A place you’ve come to associate with safety and pleasure; a place that eases the tension in your body just by breathing the air between these four walls.

Soft music drifts through the background; one of San’s easy listening playlists, relaxed and unobtrusive, and he even took the time to light a subtly scented candle. The atmosphere is quietly intimate, but also distinctly chaste, with none of the usual heat.

You are kneeled down on the bed, doing some light shoulder stretches to warm your body up, comfy in a basic sports bra and a pair of sleeping shorts. Wooyoung is dressed in a shirt and baggy boxers — and adorned by lines of rope stretched across his chest, already halfway into a box-tie. He submits to San’s work with a languid smile, slowly letting the outside world slip away.

“Of course your ‘thing’ would involve rope,” you tease San, then sigh in bliss at a particularly satisfying stretch. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“Hey, if it works, it works,” San says with a wink. “Besides, you sure were eager enough when I pitched the idea.”

To literally tie you and Wooyoung together? A little on the nose, perhaps, but god San had looked so cute when he suggested it, so proud of himself for his ingenious plan, and you’d hardly object to such a thing anyway.

You realised long ago that bondage is a bit of a favourite between San and Wooyoung, and they are no strangers to non-sexual forms of rope play either. Both for the intimacy and calming benefits of the act itself, and to test out complex ties or positions in a low intensity environment.

San finishes the box tie on Wooyoung, securely cinching both his arms and wrists, ropes crisscrossed prettily across his chest. Already you can see the shift on Wooyoung’s face; in the right mood, rope is one of the few things that truly slows him down, its soothing effect reaching all the way into his very core.

“Everything good?” San asks, his voice like velvet while he checks the knots. “That’s it, slow your breathing,” he hums, raising and lowering a hand in time with Wooyoung’s breath, guiding him deeper into an almost trance-like state. “Focus on the smell of the candle, how the rope feels against your skin, holding you in. Nothing in the world except the three of us in this room.”

He tenderly cups Wooyoung’s cheek for a soft kiss, lingering close as their foreheads touch.

“I’m right here, I’ll be right next to you,” San whispers. “Just keep your eyes on me, alright?”

You smile softly at San’s reassurance. Even when he is forced to divide his attention between two subs, San always finds small ways to stay connected, especially when one of you is in a vulnerable state.

Wooyoung briefly rubs his nose against San’s, then lets him go with a content sigh. A familiar warmth spreads in your chest at being the witness to their intimacy, their willingness to share unguarded moments of delicate happiness.

Then San turns to you, and treats you to a moment of delicate happiness of your own with a light brush of his knuckles across your cheek. “You ready?” he asks with a small grin, looking far more relaxed himself too. Like the act of tying up Wooyoung unwound something inside him as well.

You nod, filled with gentle anticipation. “Yeah, I am.”

“Then let’s get started,” he says, holding up a piece of rope with a playful spark in his eyes.

You settle down while San goes to work, a feeling of serenity washing over you with the knowledge you are in safe hands. He is as meticulous as always, an easy rhythm to his movement, like the cords are an extension of his body, wrapping himself around you.

San’s slightly calloused fingertips brush against your sports bra and against bare skin. Even with zero intent on arousal, there is a sensuality to the way his hands move over your body, leaving a trail of rope that are not unlike his fingertips; slightly coarse but still soft. There is no restraining element to your decorative harness, but it feels secure around you, grounding your senses. With every cord San lays across your chest, he reduces the world further down to just this place, this moment; no thoughts, no worries, no conflict.

You glance at Wooyoung to find him watching you with a slow, dopey smile, all his earlier tension evaporated. His smile widens when he notices you looking, and your own lips curve up in response.

The diamond chest harness snugly hugs your breasts, and you feel the odd urge to preen, filled with a surge of confidence at how they accentuate the soft curves of your body. You arch your back just lightly, and Wooyoung bites his lip with a breathy laugh; he will always respect the need to show off.

“Looks nice,” he says, slightly raspy from the effort to summon his voice.

“Back at you,” you hum, casting an admiring glance at Wooyoung’s body and the ropework. “San did well.”

San strokes the back of your head, and gives the nape of your neck a small, appreciate squeeze at your compliment. “Ready for the next part?” he asks, looking from you to Wooyoung with a quiet intensity in his eyes, fully absorbed in his role of caretaker.

Once he is sure you are both still comfortable and in a good mind-space, San helps you down on the bed, on your side with one arm outstretched in wait. Then he helps Wooyoung to lay next to you, your arms neatly wrapping around Wooyoung’s waist as you scoot close, until your chests are pressed up against each other.

Wooyoung gives you a half-grin, his trance-like slumber disturbed by the change in position. He is close, so incredibly close that you can see even the faintest blemishes on his skin, tiny faded scars and small traces of acne. There is something mesmeric about them, grounding you deeper into the reality of the moment, the reality of him.

“Yeah, I like this,” Wooyoung sighs, wiggling closer while San ties up your wrists behind Wooyoung’s back, trapping you together.

“Good,” San says, his eyes curving as he finishes the last knot and looks up at you. “How about you? Still comfortable?”

More than comfortable; small jolts of excitement are firing off inside your veins at Wooyoung’s proximity, but you take a few slow breaths, guiding yourself back into the easy-going atmosphere. “Very,” you joke, squeezing your arms around Wooyoung. “As far as methods of conflict resolution go, this is definitely a new favourite.”

“See? Told you it was a good idea.” San grins at you, grabbing another length of rope; his work is not done yet. He starts on Wooyoung’s ankles, whose expression has gone thoughtful at your comment.

Tied up the way you are, there is no escaping Wooyoung’s pensive gaze — but you don’t try to, meeting his eyes while he is brought into an even deeper state of constraint. He slowly blinks at you, pupils dilated in the dim light of the room.

“What was the other way?” he asks.

“‘Other way’?” you frown, trying to work out what Wooyoung is talking about.

“You said that whenever you’re involved in this type of situation, there are two ways for it to end,” Wooyoung says, still looking at you intently. “You never told us the second one.”

San perks up in curiosity at the question.

Ah shit. You groan, reflexively trying to hide your face in your hands — but they are securely locked behind Wooyoung’s back, so all you do is pull him in closer into the soft cushion of your chest. He is happy to let you, the ropes of your harnesses pressing into each other.

“Wait, is it embarrassing?” he asks, almost a little too eager; Wooyoung loves embarrassing stories.

“Not— not exactly,” you quickly disillusion him. “I told you it usually ends because interest fades, right? Well, the other way is… the opposite, pretty much.”

“Too much interest?” San asks, his hand now on your ankle, nudging you to bend your knee and hook your leg over Wooyoung’s.

You breathe out a soft, bitter laugh. “Yeah that’s spot on, actually,” you say, following San’s guiding touch. Your hips neatly line up with Wooyoung’s, and San starts to anchor you together. “Last person that I had a friends with benefits type of deal with, he… Well, he started to have some romantic ideas about me, about our deal. When I couldn’t feel the same way about him, he made it real damn clear he took that personally. Blamed me for wasting his time. Now… Now I don’t know if we ever really were friends at all.”

Saying it out loud hurts more than you expected, a painful reminder of how he’d seen your friendship as nothing more than a stepping stone.

You had genuinely liked him, enjoyed his company, but none of your time together had any intrinsic value to him except as a prelude to romance. Didn’t matter that you’d been upfront from the start; he’d still convinced himself that his feelings for you would magically change yours, like he was the one person who’d finally ‘fix’ you. His word, not yours — and that had hurt the most of all, threatening to undo all the work you’d done to teach yourself you were not broken in the first place.

Frustratingly, sudden tears burn behind your eyes. It is the vulnerability of the bondage, you tell yourself. It is because you are tired. It’s definitely not because of some asshole who’s not worth a single spare thought. Dammit, you can’t even wipe your face right now, forced to try and push back your tears through sheer willpower.

Wooyoung scoffs loudly, breaking your concentration.

“What a fucking asshole,” he says, shaking his head. He tries to grab onto your hands, still tied behind his back, but the best he can manage from this position is for his fingers to graze against your wrist. “His loss, if he thinks any time spent with you is a waste.”

“Agreed,” San says, squeezing your knee. The ropework around your leg is half-finished and forgotten. “The friendzone is criminally underrated, if you ask me,” he says, and somehow he manages to be joking and completely earnest all at once. “And our zone? Some cool hot gal lets me be her friend, and she’ll let me smash? I fail to see the problem.”

You hiccup a laugh, tears shaking loose from your lashes. “Yeah, you know what? You’re right. I’m a damn platonic catch!”

“Damn straight you are!” San grins, his hand warm and reassuring on your leg.

Wooyoung still looks intensely at you, his eyes flickering across your face, tracing your tears. Briefly, the thought strikes you that he wants to kiss you.

Right now, with your bodies trapped together, there is very little you actually could do to stop Wooyoung from kissing you again — but you do not panic when he leans in, filled with absolute trust. A trust that Wooyoung proves himself to be deserving of when he just clumsily brushes his nose against your cheek, an awkward attempt at wiping your tears.

You start to giggle when you realise what he’s doing, and Wooyoung joins in when he realises how futile and ill-conceived his efforts are. “San? A little help here?” he laughs, leaning back to his original position. He shakes his head at his own silly impulse, his bright smile even more beautiful and contagious from so close-by.

San does not hesitate, grabbing a tissue from his nightstand before he lays down behind you, leaning over to properly wipe your face. He does not return to his ropework, opting to stay close for a proper cuddle. His cheek presses against your shoulder, an arm slung heavily across your waist so his hand rests on Wooyoung’s hip.

“Just, for the record,” San says, his voice so close to your ear it raises goosebumps, “all jokes aside, I really am happy with how we are now.”

You manage to turn your head just enough to give San a grateful look, gently bumping your forehead against his. “Me too,” you say, and hesitate for only a moment to say more. “You… you guys do know I care about you, right? Like, a lot.”

“We do,” he smiles, dimples and all, while Wooyoung tries to squeeze his hands around yours again.

“But sometimes that only makes more difficult, to try and figure out how to navigate all this,” you say, grimacing again. “Even now? Right now? Some tiny part of me is worried that I gave off the wrong signal by saying that. It’s like I’m trapped in some weird split, and I’ll either push you away or lead you on, even by accident.”

Wooyoung chuckles dryly. “You get stuck in your head a lot, don’t you,” he observes almost conversationally.

“…Yeah,” you admit with a chuckle of your own.

“You know,” San says gently, “it’s not like I never thought about this kind of stuff either. Where it’s going, when you might break things off. Maybe I should’ve brought it up myself, I don’t know. Maybe I was worried where that conversation might go.”

Wooyoung blinks in surprise. “Wait, you also thought we might stop having sex anytime soon?”

“…You really never considered that??”

“Not until yesterday! Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”

“I just—” San shrugs, a little helpless. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”

(It is an odd thought; all this time, you wondered how much time you’d have before San and Wooyoung inevitably moved on, while San wondered the very same thing about you.)

Wooyoung’s frown returns, and he shifts a little against his restraints. “Hey, you know I don’t like it when you don’t talk about what’s bugging you. Even if the thing bugging you isn’t me.”

The last part is light-hearted, but you can still sense his concern, a history of past conversations in his voice.

It is a new side they are showing to you; allowing you to witness not only the intimacy of their happiness, but the intimacy of their disputes as well. Somehow it’s both uncomfortable and a comfort at once; you are literally trapped between them, but there is something revealing about this kind of vulnerability, their willingness to let you into their lives. The pretty and the unpretty parts of it.

“I— Yeah no, you’re right. I should’ve,” San says quietly, reaching to brush his fingers across Wooyoung’s cheek. “Sorry.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow, but there is a budding grin on his lips. “Seriously, this all would’ve been sorted out so fast if either of you just talked to me about it. Idiots.”

“I did talk to you!” you splutter in protest.

“Yeah and here we are, not twenty-four hours later! Case closed!”

(Damn, he really won’t stop making great points today.)

“No, not ‘case closed’,” San says, huffing a laugh. “That’s what I was trying to talk about!” His face goes a little softer, leaning over your shoulder just enough so he can make proper eye-contact with you. “Listen,” he says gently, “we don’t have to work out anything definitive right now, but I— we’d like it if you stuck around for a long time. If you want.”

He rushes to add the last part, like he’s worried even the tiniest hint at anything remotely resembling a commitment could make you bolt like a startled deer — and you can hardly blame him for that.

You give him a quiet nod, unable to do much more right now than acknowledge his offer, then you look at Wooyoung, to see where he is at right now.

“Yeah, I’m with San,” Wooyoung says earnestly, but you spot the playful gleam in his eyes even before he opens his mouth again. “Seriously, what do I care if I get to kiss you or not, if it means we get to keep you around? I’d rather learn a little self-control than miss out on you.”

You exhale a soft, fond laugh. “Thanks, Woo. I know what a sacrifice that is for you,” you tease him, but you squeeze your arms around him a little tighter to make clear you really do appreciate it.

“Oh, it’s a huge sacrifice. Don’t you dare think I’m treating this lightly,” Wooyoung says, absolutely treating it lightly “Do you even realise just how much I love smooching my friends? So. Damn. Much. You better be grateful!”

You’re fully aware of how much he loves it; you’ve seen often enough how he — and San — menace their friends with kisses the same way you like to menace Hongjoong with hugs. In hindsight it’s a small miracle that it took this long for either of them to slip up and lay one on you at the wrong moment.

You try to move your arm to reach back and touch San, and are mildly surprised when you can’t, still restrained by the ropes around your wrists. They’d almost been forgotten, like they are as natural to your body as wearing clothes.

“…Hey, is it weird that we just had this whole heart-to-heart while me and Wooyoung are tied up?”

San just shrugs, giving you a small grin. “As long as it works for us. That’s how we’re doing this whole thing, right?” But it does pull his attention back to the bondage, and he testingly feels at your bindings. “Does it all still feel good?”

“Really good,” you sigh. “Definitely worth revisiting this type of thing under different circumstances. Ah… I think Wooyoung agrees,” you blurt out the last part; his cock gave an enthused twitch at the suggestion of doing this again, noticeable even through his boxers.

“Oh, does he now?” San purrs, running his hand over Wooyoung’s chest harness.

Wooyoung is predictably shameless. “Hey, I’m enjoying myself. I’m all for a redo without clothes getting in the way.”

“Then we’ll make that happen soon, for sure,” San says, biting his lip. “Want me to untie you now, or stay like this for a bit longer?”

You and Wooyoung exchange a look, coming to an unspoken, unanimous agreement. “Bit longer.”

San hums, the heated look in his eyes softening back into affectionate warmth. He nestles back against you, throwing a leg over yours to hook his ankle around Wooyoung’s; creating another connective thread between the three of you as the bedroom settles into a relaxed, almost dream-like space.

You’re still restrained, but you have never felt less trapped. Instead you surrender your body and mind to the rope, to San, even to Wooyoung, although he is just as tied up as you; and you know you are welcome here, your presence treasured for exactly the way you are.

The feeling lingers even after San carefully untangles you and Wooyoung, enveloping you like a soft, serene glow.

You feel it in the gleam of San’s eyes as he rubs circles into your wrists, gentle deep pressure to encourage your bloodflow. You feel it in the weight of Wooyoung’s head resting on your shoulder, so quiet that you think he has dozed off until he giggles at an exchange of small jokes between you and San.

You feel it even after you leave their physical presence behind to turn in for the night; it’s right there in the ease of your thoughts, in knowing they won’t carelessly discard you.

The timer has stopped, no longer ticking away in your head. Instead San’s offer echoes through you, resonating stronger with every repeat.

“We’d like it if you stuck around, for a long time. If you want.”

In truth, you never gave much thought to what you actually want the future with San and Wooyoung to look like, other than some vague idea of ‘existing in each others’ lives’. You always assumed the choice would be made for you, and to fill in any details would only set you up to get hurt.

Now they have extended a hand to fill in those details together. And you don’t know what it’ll look like exactly — a platonic commitment of some sorts, something that works for the three of you regardless of traditional conventions — but you do know that you want to stick around. For a long time.

The next morning, you wake up to find a 4AM text from Wooyoung.

hey so non-sexy kissing is off the table but i can still bite u right

You snort tiredly, still half-asleep. Like he hasn’t been doing plenty of that already! But you resolve to go see him today, and give an in-person demonstration to show him exactly how you feel about bites.

#igbylicious #whichever way #woosan #fic recs!!!! read this!

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hpalways · 3 years ago

Note

Heyy I was wondering if you could write just a few hc or one shots for Albedo, Kazuha, or Venti with an s/o who overworks themself with work and stuff? Yknow- comfort stuff :3 Unfortunately I’ve been having to work over fifty + hours these past few weeks, and I love your writing! Have a nice day btw-!!

Note: hiiiii! yes! of course. this sounds lovely to write about. please take care of yourself omg, that sounds really stressful and tiring. aww! and thank you for enjoying my works, im so happy to hear that ^^

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Venti

Warnings: None

Albedo

When he sees you studying religiously in the workshop, he goes to the nearby campfire. Finding a pot and some water, he warms it up to make hot cocoa. Heading back to you, he hands it to you, watching your face light up in pleasant surprise.

As the workshop in the mountains can still get cold, he fetches a wool blanket to wrap around your arms. It allows you to have a better time with your research.

He tries to take your mind off of work by asking you to be his model for his next art piece. You are told to lay down, because he wants to draw you that way. Despite shooting him a confused look, you follow through with it anyway, getting into a position that’s too relaxing. Soon enough, you fall asleep and he quickly tends to you and tuck you in.

Other times, he wants you away from the workaholic atmosphere. Holding your hand tightly, he leads you out of the cave-like study and into the pretty snow. A light flutter falls from the skies, tickling your cheeks in gentle waves. The two of you stroll through the slippery slopes, and he makes sure no harm comes to you.

He talks philosophically and about the world, giving you a break from the load of paperwork.

However, he is quite the workaholic himself, his thoughts always straying to him own studies. This usually strikes some sense in you, where you help pull him out of his stupor, as well as your own. The two of you continues to remind each other that breaks are needed. He’s your rock to hold onto; and you were his.

“[Y/N]? You appear very tired. Slow down and let me fix you some tea.”

Kazuha

Whispers poetry into your ear. His voice itself is soothing to you, calming your frantic nerves from the ongoing training that was set in stone. Every word that comes out is like silk, which relaxes your tense muscles.

Pulling you away from the training grounds, he shows the nature views he has grown so fond of. Maple leaves rain down in gentle motion, the scenery warming you up inside with comfort. It is beautiful and you do not regret sneaking out with Kazuha for this moment.

He talks about his homeland, Inazuma, full of raw emotion and beautiful phrases that take your breath away. He tells you not to rush what fate has in store for you, to take it easy and go at your own pace. This relieves your stress easily.

You are sometimes taken out to the ship, where you are not allowed to train. The sea laps beneath the engine, blue waves furling in a way that soothed you. It is beautiful, the horizons stretching far and wide, with the rising morning sun in the distance.

Seeing your tired expression, he takes you to the middle of nowhere -- the meadows where it is warm and the sun basks. He says the wind leads him here. And before you know it, the two of you are knocked out on a rock, taking a nap together to find your energy again for the next coming day.

At times, he goes easy on you during battles, soon turning it into a fun word game where he contemplates haiku.

“The wind is calm today. Come. We don’t need you rushing either.”

Venti

Always very willing to distract you from your paperwork. Barging right into your office at the Favonius Headquarters, he walks to you with a giddy smirk.

He takes no objections, deaf to your protests as he forces you out of there, running through the fields with you fumbling behind him. He goes to Windrise, expertly climbing up his favorite tree. You sit beside him, letting out a sigh at the male. You are secretly happy to be here instead.

Plays his precious lyre to you, the melodic song ringing into your ears. They make you feel warm inside... and sleepy. His voice is angelic as always, with favorite lyrics tumbling out of his precious lips.

Of course, he brings you to his favorite tavern in Mondstadt, Angel’s Share. Buying a bunch of drinks, the two of you drink and feel the rush of it kicking in. He is smiling in content when you sag your shoulders into a relaxed state, no more worrying about the irrelevant stuff from before.

Tells you lots of jokes. You try not to laugh at them, but he eventually gets to you anyway. His teal eyes watch you softly, content to destress you from the workload you keep putting on yourself. He misses when you had more freetime -- when you aren’t fretting about the littlest things.

He gives you a lot of surprise hugs. His arms are surprisingly strong, tightening around you and stubborn to let you go. You feel yourself giving in to the sturdiness of his arms.

“Free yourself from the chains of responsibility, [Y/N]. Eheheh. Pretty please?”

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estrel · 4 years ago

Text

It’s in the Knowing (that Wishes Come True)

destiel december 2020 prompt: sledding + spn advent calendar 2020 prompt: wishes wc: ~1.4k

[READ ON AO3]

“Dean, you had,” Sam huffs, “infinite possibilities at your disposal. And you wished for–for this?”

Dean’s a little confused, too, looking out at the mountains. Almost every inch is covered with a layer of snow, but by far, the hill they’re standing on has the thickest blanket. Dean’s feet sink into it a little when he shifts his weight, studying their surroundings.

Apart from the clearing they’re in, the place is littered with trees. Dean’s gaze follows the trunks up, until he’s looking at the sky, which is quickly losing light. He thinks he can make out the beginning twinkles of constellations, and when he laughs, a puff of frosty breath obscures them for a moment before fading off.

Then he smells it—something like firewood, he thinks, and turns towards it. Eyes still searching the tops of the trees, Dean catches sight of a thin column of smoke, likely from a cabin nearby.

A few feet away from them, a tree branch packed with snow loses its hold, and the whump of the snow hitting the ground startles Dean out of his thoughts.

“I don’t know, man,” Dean says, “It’s not like I really had a choice. I just, you know, just had this thought, I guess, and now…we’re here.”

He turns back to Sam, who focuses on Dean once more, seemingly having caught sight of the smoke too.

“I’m assuming…those have something to do with it?”

Dean’s eyes follow the direction Sam’s finger is pointing to, which is a somewhere on the ground and behind Dean, off to his left. Just at the edge of the hill sit two sleds—the old, wooden kind that seem like they’re always one good bump away from splintering into a million pieces, but somehow never do.

He chuckles, moving towards them to check them out, when Sam urgently pats his shoulder. Dean swivels around, taking in Sam’s confused—but not shocked—expression, and once more tracks his stare to see what he’s looking at.

Dean finds himself mirroring his brother, but otherwise smiling despite himself.

“What took you so long?” He hears himself say, feels Sam looking at him weird in response. If this was his “wish,” then this only made sense—it’d just been a matter of waiting for him to show up.

Cas levels him with a stare that says ‘really?’ and Dean moves to meet him half way.

“Jackets,” Cas says, handing Dean a thick black one that looks like it’s meant for snow. Dean takes it. “And Jack,” Cas adds. With a gentle tilt of his head, Dean looks over and sees Jack, not too far away, walking briskly towards them with something small in his hands.

“You two always come out here practically naked,” Cas says, leaving Dean and handing Sam his own jacket. “And the lumberjack outfits are fine for when it’s any other season, but you do realize it’s the dead of winter, right?”

“Well, you…” Dean starts, about to tell him off for the dress shoes and trench coat he’s never seen without, except that Cas isn’t wearing them, he’s…

“Cas, is that—are those—are you wearing boots?” Sam asks, a lilt of amusement in his voice.

Cas looks down, frowning. “These are my snow boots. Dean got them for me last Christmas.” He shoots Dean a confused glance, as though Dean should be in on this, and Sam was the one acting deluded. Dean can’t really bring himself to care, too busy smiling at the rest of Cas’ outfit.

He’s about to comment on the snow pants, which are black and baggy over Cas’ lower half, but Jack makes it to them just in time, pushing something into Cas’ chest.

“You forgot your beanie,” Jack explains, and then looking up at them, “I thought you guys came out ahead of us so you could ‘get the sleds ready.’ Cas and I started on the cookies so they should be done by the time we get back.”

Dean watches Cas slip the beanie on, losing his breath a little at the sight. The thought occurs to him—when he’s looking long enough to notice Cas’ red nose and ears and cheeks—that angels don’t usually get cold.

“Hang on—you left the oven on unattended?” Sam says. Pulling his eyes away from Cas, Dean chuckles at the wild look on Sam’s face, like he’s half ready to bolt for the cabin to stop it from catching fire.

“Of course not.” Jack frowns at him like he should know better. “I charmed it with the spell you taught me. It’ll shut off automatically when it’s done.”

Sam relaxes, forcing a smile. “Right. Uh, Dean? Can we talk for a second?”

Dean follows him around to the nearest tree, which is far enough away that Jack and Cas probably won’t hear them over their own conversation (Dean thinks he hears something about hot chocolate) if they talk quietly enough.

“We can’t stay here,” Sam says, “We have to find a way out.”

Dean wets his lips, “I know, Sammy, but…” He looks over at Jack and Cas.

Sam is quiet for a second before he notes, “You want to stay.”

He shrugs. “Just…just for a little while longer. We can–we can go sledding, eh? We haven’t done that since we were kids! And then—then we can figure out a way out of here.”

Sam has a look of growing concern on his face, something Dean thinks is teetering too close to pity.

“What?” He jokes, “You’re telling me you don’t wanna see those two sled? It’s not for us, Sam, it’s for the nerdy angels over there.”

His brother manages a smile, which is a relief. “Sure,” he says gently. Dean pretends not to hear it, heading now for the sleds and waving them all over.

He pulls the sleds apart, placing them each by the hill’s edge, but not so close that sitting on them would be enough to send them flying down the slope.

“Okay,” Dean starts, “How do we want to do this?”

Dean knows the answer before anyone says it. Better stated: he knows his wish before anyone else does.

“The logical route would be to pair up,” Cas says seriously, “You and Sam have done this before, so each of you gets a sled.”

Dean feels his chest go tight with anticipation for a second, and then it subsides. He nods.

“Good idea. Who—”

“I’ll go with Jack,” Sam interrupts, a wry smile on his face. Dean quirks his lips in a smile, cocking his head to the side in a mild ‘screw you’ gesture to his brother. He turns to Cas.

“Well, hop on then Louise and we’ll sail off this cliff together,” Dean says. He waits for the recognition to spark in Cas’ eyes and he smiles—for real this time—as Cas situates himself in the front of the sled. He spares Jack and Sam a glance, amused at how Sam is struggling not to take up most of the sled with his legs, before sitting down behind Cas.

And he stays like that for a moment, sitting awkwardly and gathering his courage, until he musters up enough to wrap his legs around him.

“I’m nervous,” he hears Jack say. Dean thinks, Me too. Sam laughs and reassures Jack that it’ll be fine.

“Okay, uh, you’re gonna have to lean back once we kick off, alright?” Dean instructs, trying to remember how to do this.

“You promise I won’t fall?”

Dean swallows. “Nah. I’ll hang on to you.”

“Let’s race,” Sam says. He can feel him staring and avoids Sam’s gaze. He’ll blame the tint on his cheeks and ears on the cold, if Sam ever asks.

Dean scoffs, “You’ll lose.”

“Prove it,” Sam responds, and then he’s pushing off and leaving them in the dust.

Dean’s surprised by the laugh that escapes him, and then he’s pushing off too, and he and Cas are propelled down the snowy slope after the others.

Cas leans back as instructed. Dean’s pretty sure the guy can feel the rush of his heartbeat with his back on Dean’s chest like that, but Dean can also feel Cas’ steel grips on his legs, nails digging into his shins.

He laces an arm around Cas’ chest, pressing him closer. “I’ve got you!” he reminds him.

There’s a beat, and then over the sound of the wind whipping against their faces, Cas says, “I know.”

tag list (ask to be added/removed):

@castiels-a-lamp @jellydeans @writtenmemxries @cestladean @randomblabbling @fluffiestlou @dreamnovak @weird-dorky-little-d @depressivedemonnightmaredean @jackleslongcon @friedchickenangelwings @galaxycastiel @destielle @dickspeightjrs @on-a-bender @organicpurplepants @casbelieves @samuelswinchester @spacegirlstuff @seffersonjtarship @winchester-novak @professorerudite @squintingg @holmesemrys @imnotrevealingmyname @festivemish @good-things-do-happen-dean @angxlsgrxce @casandeans @castielscrookedtrenchcoat @destiel-in-its-natural-habitat @gracelesschoice @superduckbatrebel @iheardyourprayer @top13zepptraxx @that-one-fandom-chick @scoobydean @destiels-canonahhhhhhhhhh @maxguevra @cursed-or-not @i-think-im-humanbut-cant-besure @fitinmypoems @madilineskingdom @awolfnamedaliac @castee-yel @tearsofgrace @credentiast @fivefeetfangirl @my-favourite-hellatus @gray-is-neutral @sunflower-vol-28 @ensignabby @ar-bi-trary @lulu-zodiac @y-yo-a-ti-dumbass @castielology @nguyenxtrang @destiel-bitches @supergaycas @deancasology @miadeline @save-the-sloths

#this is so fluffy im gonna puke #alsO i've never ridden a sled before so like #dont cancel me or anything #destiel december 2020 #spnadventcalendar2020 #rambleoncas writing #spn #destiel #supernatural #whats up with me and these titles lately huh??#weirddd #roc original #my post

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foxcort · 4 months ago

Text

this was so fun, tysm for the tag @achaotichuman! no pressure tag: @positivelyruined, @ae-neon, @theladyofbloodshed + anyone else who wants to do it!

TELL US

The story you're proudest of

wildfire, it was an entry i did for erisweek#2023 and the first time i'd ever written eris, so i was pleasantly surprised at how the idea in my head translated on 'paper'.

Your story that's gotten the most love online:

comforter, which was a drabble series of my favorite feyre and nesta ships and quite possibly the most fun i'd ever had writing!

Tease a current WIP or idea you're working on:

oo okay this one's suppose to be a mermay entry that might actually take until mermay#2025 to complete with the pace im writing at (😌). its set in the same universe (kind of?) as my feylin mermay fic, but features rhysta this time. titled, a heart of poison and pearl, it takes place during the time period just after the war begins.

She was spilled over the cold, dark gray stones dotting the coastline below the Illyrian mountains, a long gash scored along the length of her body, beginning from her hip and ending midway down her tail. Small waves of frigid water lapped over her, but she held onto the rocks without shivering, her silver eyes sharp as she looked between the flanking guards aiming Illyrian-forged swords at her. “You’re too naive, boy.” Rhysand’s jaw clenched, his own cold gaze ripping from the siren on the rocks, to face his father’s words. “And you, too comfortable with cruelty.” He didn’t ease on the bite in his tone, even if he knew Seren was too clever – and too disinterested – to be goaded. “That you think my foresightedness is cruelty reveals how much you know about war and the lengths desperate individuals will go to.” “She’s harmless.“ He looked back towards her, his gaze purposely distant as he assessed her injury again. “And harmed by the looks of it. The only thing she’s desperate for is a warm bed and a night’s rest.” “Yes, I imagine she would like us to think so.” Seren waved a casual hand and the guards advanced a step. The faerie’s shoulders pulled tight, her lips curling back, her teeth bared. “Stay your hands.” Sharp talons gripped the guards’ minds as his words echoed, and Rhysand felt his mind stretch to accomplish the deed, a familiar and practiced movement. The guards halted against their will, muscles straining to break free and obey his father’s silent command. An inconvenienced little sigh fell from Seren’s mouth as he finally turned to his son, irritation simmering in his violet eyes. “I could have you sent to the Prison while I kill her myself, Rhysand.” The same cold features he saw in the mirror met him. A strong jawline, high cheekbones and the inkiest of black hair. It frightened him, in the deepest recesses of his mind, to know he had the potential to be just as cruel and flippant as his father. “But I think a lesson would suit you better.” Seren frowned ever-so-slightly. “And I don’t have the patience to fight your stubbornness for pretty faces.” Rhysand’s talon’s were abruptly swept away with a brush of his father’s mind and he stumbled back a step, immediately bolstering his mind with an obsidian wall of adamant — a habit he’d established around the High Lord of the Night Court. ”Do what you’d like with her.” The two Illyrian warriors, now free from his intrusion, eyed him with contempt as they stalked back to Seren’s side. “If she kills you, I suppose it could serve as a cautionary tale to your sister when she takes the role of heir in your place.”

Your top 3 fandoms: currently it's ACOTAR, dragon age and asoiaf/hotd. i know i don't post a lot about the latter two, but that's only because the brainrot for ACOTAR fix-its and analysis is all consuming.

Your top 3 ships: feyre/tamlin, nesta/tamlin and nesta/rhysand.

Rec someone else's fic: i know this is implying i only rec one fic, but im going to ignore that and do more.

We Stand Between Goliaths by @beansidhebumbling, oh goodness i don't know if i can say enough about this fic. irish archerons? and feylin? but the thing is, you don't even have to like or ship feylin to love this fic, because gem created a world and story that is difficult not to fall in love with. this is very much the kind of writing that has a distinct voice and character. and i swear there's something to dissect in every line and something to feel in every word. im not going to resist quoting one of my favorite lines from the fic, just so everyone knows how obsessed i am with gem's writing. "His dimples seemed to share an inside joke with the lines that creased his eyes as he stared at her." — We Stand Between Goliaths, by @beansidhebumbling

Rosemary by @bittermuire / iriy@AO3, everything muire's ever written is gold but this one in particular is quite possibly one of my favorite fics of all time. it's a practical magic au. it's perfect for fall. its about the archeron sisters just as much as it is about feycien, rhysta and elain/dierdre (elain's canon gf 😌). genuinely i cannot rec this fic enough.

Feylin Oneshots by @bookishfeylin / Bookish_Gal@AO3, this was the very first fic i read in the ACOTAR fandom and such a cathartic journey for fans of feylin and book 1. it is a collection of oneshots but still contains an overarching plot and one of my favorite depictions of what the feylin and feysand relationships should've looked like after the events of UTM.

An Illyrian Love Story by @theladyofbloodshed, the sweetest love story for emerie who deserves the world <3 i really love how emerie and balthazar are written in this one, and there's a underlayer of hope for illyria that's definitely missing in canon. also contains some wholesome valkyrie moments!

plus 4 by firenaition@AO3, i know i rarely post about atla but this fic! is! so! good!!! it gave me my modern azulaang fix but also the characterizations of the gaang are so spot on and seamless i have no choice but to obsess.

Pick one!

Fluff or Angst — i love the emotions that angst invokes.

Oneshots or Longfics — me? oneshots. my brain? longfics.

Canon Compliance or Canon Divergence — canon divergence! even if i like the plot of a book or show (most of the time i do, ACOTAR is just a very special case) i love to play around with aus and what-ifs.

AO3 or FF.net

Tag game for fanfiction authors!

Thank you so much for the tag @angelosearch! I'm going to tag @goforth-ladymidnight @praetorqueenreyna @achaotichuman @yaralulu @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @thedickgraysons @chunkypossum and whoever wants to join pls! I'm really bad at remembering who are all the writers!

TELL US

The story you're proudest of

I have two fics that I'm especially proud of!

Wildflowers, which is my ACOTAR prequel. It's my first fanfiction written and posted online, and the first story I wrote start to finish. I tried my best to give depth to the world and the side characters. I do think some people are turned off by the main characters/ship, but it's so much more than that. It's also spawned so many side stories which is so exciting!

Regrets, which is my first SUPERBAT that I ever posted. I think it's a really good reflection of my style which balances emotion, humour and intimacy. I'm so happy my first attempt at writing my OTP turned out SO WELL.

Your story that's gotten the most love online:

The answers are the same as above, but for different reasons.

Wildflowers has gotten a lot of praise for multiple elements in the story, and I feel like those who read it all found different parts to enjoy. It's one of those stories that are really fun to talk about, and there's so many little nods here and there. It makes me happy to see that readers are noticing them. Wildflowers also has original additions (like family members of the main characters) that everyone loves as much as I do!

Regrets has the most kudos, but like mentioned above, it's a classic ship and a good balance of fluff and angst elements! I had so much fun writing it, and I think that came through in the piece.

Tease a current WIP or idea you're working on:

I've been wanting to tease NEEDLE & KING (wip title, subject to change), which is the prequel/side story for Rhysand's parents.

It was supposed to be a shorter, contained story about their romance, but now it's become a lore exercise, an exploration of cultural displacement in fantasy, starts off as a female-focused cast, etc.

Chapter 1 Flying

At the end of the world, Lilith thinks of nothing. No home to yearn for, no family to miss her—at least, not for long—and no future to look forward to. She stands on the edge of a mountain’s peak, one of two Wolf’s Fangs, and feels. The world comes into her through the howls of the wind and the bite of the cold against her barely covered arms. Clouds stand between her and the bottom, if she could even see that far on a clear day. Her life, until now, has been a series of instances that have happened to her rather than experience. The absence of her father, the death of her mother, the fear that looms above her—she is at the mercy of everything around her. Here, the ice demands her wakefulness. Here, the skies challenge her. Here, every breath is earned. The height of the mountain is the only time she feels alive, so what is that feeling when she steps off its edge and careens downwards. Down, down, down, she goes with a whistle—a force against gravity. At the bottom, reality will come crashing down, but she can solve that problem quite easily. Just… fall. Her black wings strain against the fall, and she grits her teeth. It’s not in her nature to fall; she will never accept her fate. Lilith wages war against nature itself, demanding her muscles to yield to her will. A loud flapping noise signals her success, the membranes of her wings cradling the air itself to take her in an arc, a low swoop and then up again. She glides through the clouds, occasionally drawing her dark wings to herself and allowing herself to plummet before catching herself again. Lilith had taught herself to fly. It was the only thing she can control in her small, small life. Her flights have no destination, and they are timeless. She flies for as long as she can. She pushes as far as she can go because she never knows when it will be her last time.

Like any draft, this may be subject to change. The first scene I usually write for any draft is the one that 'sets' the tone of the story.

Fun fact - Lilith is a name/character that pops up in all my stories either as some weird writing signature/nod, or as a main character. She's a hyperfixation that started with Diablo and never left, but she's become her own phenomenon for me and my writing.

Your top 3 fandoms: that I write in... ACOTAR & DC Comics. I currently don't have time to write in a third one, woops.

Your top 3 ships: If it's what I've written for, then the answers are Tamlin x Rhysand, Bruce x Clark and Orm x Clark. If it's what I enjoy personally, then it's all of the above + many, many crackships.

Rec someone else's fic: Without a doubt, the people I've tagged above have amazing fics. I haven't had a chance to read their works in their entirety, but I've participated in challenges with them, creeped on their works, and they are SO GOOD! Please go check them out! Their fics are on my to-read, but part of my writing process is to just write without reading, so once I'm done my current fic, I will be going through each work to add comments and properly devote the love and attention they deserve.

Pick one!

Fluff or Angst - I cannot NOT write angst, but I believe that both (one into the other) create incomparable emotional depth.

Oneshots or longfics - I prefer reading oneshots, but I cannot stick to one chapter for the life of me.

Canon compliance or canon divergence - I have the worst memory, I couldn't be canon compliant if I wanted to...

AO3 or FF.net

#dash games

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missfangirll · 3 years ago

Note

If im not too late, I'd request anything for Beiyuan/Wu Xi. There are so few works out there for them :c

So, I wanted to write some XiYuan fluff and somehow ended up writing Dad!Beiyuan bonding with Chengling, Beiyuan thirsting after his husband and a sort-of-fix-it for WoH episode 36?? 😅

The plot follows the show, after episode 36, but their shared past in the novel (Qi Ye) did happen, if that makes sense? 😅 Sorry for the confusion.. The title is a Chinese poem called 蝶恋花 by Liu Yong.

Anyway, here's some XiYuan fluff/dad!Beiyuan/WoH fix-it? 😂😂

- - - - -

Fandom: Qi Ye, Word of Honor Rating: General Relationship: Wu Xi/Jing Beiyuan, Jing Beiyuan & Zhang Chengling Tags: Fluff, Bonding, Beiyuan thirsting after his husband, Fix-it of sorts Words: 2565 Summary: In an inn, Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi, together with Zhang Chengling, await the return of Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing, who have run off to die on a mountain. Beiyuan has to care for Zishu's disciple, while being distracted by his husband.

Read on AO3

- - - - -

Butterflies in Love with Flowers

Jing Beiyuan has plenty of practice waiting.

He has waited for sixty years at the Three-Life Stone, has waited for Helian Yi for six lifetimes. Has waited in the Imperial City for his schemes and machinations to bear fruit, has waited for Wu Xi. He has plenty of practice.

Which doesn’t mean, however, that he is a patient man.

Jing Beiyuan paces the inn room he shares with his husband, deliberately walking closely past Wu Xi who is sitting cross-legged at the low table reading, looking entirely unperturbed. Much to Jing Beiyuan’s dismay, that is to say, so he brushes Wu Xi’s back with the seam of his sleeve every time he walks by.

Wu Xi doesn’t react for a while, but after the sixth turn, without saying a word, he casually grabs Jing Beiyuan’s sleeve and, turning slightly, pulls him down in his lap, effectively trapping him there with both arms tightly around him.

Jing Beiyuan is a lot of things, but he's not an idiot, and he would never let an opportunity pass to cuddle his husband. With a deep sigh, he settles into the other’s embrace, leaning his head on Wu Xi’s broad chest.

“I am worried,” he admits eventually.

Stroking his hair soothingly, Wu Xi just hums in quiet understanding.

"I'm worried about the two idiots on the mountain," he adds, as if that wasn't obvious, and Wu Xi, as expected, doesn't reply. Jing Beiyuan continues, unbothered by his husband's lack of reaction. "I keep telling the little idiot," here he pauses to marvel at the fact that he distinguishes his companions merely by the grade of their idiocy, then sighs inwardly, "that his shifu and shishu are fine, that he should focus on his training in order to have something to show his shifu upon his return, but sometimes I…." He trails off, snuggling closer into the other's neck.

Zhang Chengling isn't coping well with the fact that both his mentors left with the intention to die on that mountain, albeit with different purposes in mind, and Jing Beiyuan has had to forcefully stop him from climbing that mountain himself, twice by now. For now he seems to have begrudgingly accepted his fate, although Jing Beiyuan can see his outbursts of anger for the fear they are.

He inhales deeply, willing his thoughts to calm down. All they have to do now is wait, wait for Zishu and his little maniac to return safely, and return they will, he has no doubts about it. He can’t, for Chengling’s sake.

A knock on the door interrupts the silent moment and with a groan, Jing Beiyuan clambers out of his husband’s lap to open the door, while said husband reaches for his abandoned book. The elderly innkeeper in front of him doesn’t spare a glance at Jing Beiyuan’s slightly ruffled hair, fiddling with the cap in his hands. At the other’s raised eyebrow, he bows so deep his forehead seems to touch his knees, and Jing Beiyuan has to bite back a grin.

“Yes?”, he asks magnanimously. The man shifts uncomfortably. “Your highness,” he begins, but Jing Beiyuan interrupts him with a hand on his shoulder. “I am certainly not worthy of such a noble title, my good man, just call me Lord Seventh, and speak freely. What bothers you?”

The other man bows again, not as low as before, but it still looks uncomfortable. “Your lordship,” he begins, and Jing Beiyuan sighs, hearing a slight huff of laughter from behind. Wu Xi knows of his resentment against his past life and the decorum it entailed. “Your lordship,” the man repeats, sounding increasingly desperate. “Your, umm.. The young master… He… The courtyard…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, but Jing Beiyuan has a vague idea of what he is trying to say, so he just nods and breezes past the innkeeper, who hastily shuts the door and scrambles to follow him.

From the inn’s inner courtyard he can already hear a dull thudding noise that grows louder as he approaches. In the yard, next to a small wooden shack, he finds the source of the noise: Zhang Chengling, gracelessly hitting the timber wall with a training sword, his face and back sweaty, his hair in disarray, his mouth a thin line. Jing Beiyuan nods to the innkeeper, who retreats to another building, then slowly approaches the boy, keeping his distance from the sword. Leaning on the wooden wall, he stays silent, observing Zishu’s disciple. The boy has grown a finger’s breadth over the last weeks, his body starting to stretch, his face about to lose the softness of childhood. He has seen a lot these past months, Jing Beiyuan muses, and feels infinite fondness for the little idiot.

Zhang Chengling has seen him, of course, but doesn’t make any move to stop his grim assault on the shack, so Jing Beiyuan says after a while, “You might want to use a real sword when you intend to put a hole in that thing.” His teasing doesn’t gain a reaction, however, the boy still hacking away at the wood. “Chengling,” he says after a while, softly, gently, “they will return.”

“I know,” comes the strained reply, but the beating doesn’t stop. The hits seem to grow less forceful, though, and Jing Beiyuan inches closer. “If Tian Chuang had succeeded,” he adds quietly, “we would know.” He looks directly at Chengling who stubbornly avoids his gaze, but his movements slow further, until he swings the sword like a flag bearer his banner in a parade. Jing Beiyuan carefully closes the distance, intercepting the last swing with his hand, gripping the wooden sword. He notices its shaking, and it’s only a heartbeat before Chengling collapses into his arms, letting go of the sword and wrapping both arms around him in a desperate embrace. Jing Beiyuan lowers the sword, then enfolds the boy in his arms, a hand on the back of his head, and lets him sob quietly into his shoulder.

“I miss them,” the boy snuffles into his robes, his face hidden. “Sometimes I dream about them, dead and cold, buried under all that snow and I…” He hiccups, then starts sobbing again. Jing Beiyuan breathes slowly. A few days after Zishu, and then the Ghost Valley Master, ascended the mountain, there had been news of an immense avalanche that had buried a large group of people, presumably the joined forces of the Window of Heaven and the Scorpion King. But nothing had reached them since, and all of them had grown restless, even Wu Xi, even though he would never admit to it.

A hand on the boy’s back, Jing Beiyuan rubs soothing circles. “Come with me,” he says at last, “Let’s go inside and have some tea, hm?” A nod, then Chengling takes a step back, sheepishly rubbing his red eyes. “‘m sorry,” he mumbles, but Jing Beiyuan just huffs. “Never be sorry for how you feel,” he admonishes gently, putting an arm around the boy’s shoulder, subtly scooping the wooden sword up with the other hand. “Let’s have some tea and sweets, what do you say?” Chengling sniffs again, then says with the hint of a smile, “Didn’t the Great Shaman explicitly forbid us to eat sweets before dinner?” Jing Beiyuan makes a carefree gesture, then, lowering his voice, adds in a conspiratorial tone, “We have to hide it, then,” which finally makes Chengling laugh. A lighter air around them, they stroll back to the room. (Wu Xi gives them a stern look as Jing Beiyuan retrieves a bag of sweets from his sleeve, but says nothing when they share some over tea, which Jing Beiyuan secretly finds endlessly endearing.)

⚘⚘

The next morning finds Jing Beiyuan on a bench in that same courtyard, at the other side this time, half hidden under a canopy hung with ivy. In the middle of the courtyard, illuminated by the rising sun, Wu Xi is practicing his martial arts.

Jing Beiyuan admires everything about his little venom. His honesty, his loyalty, his unrestrained emotions, but watching the other train always leaves him breathless and with a dry mouth. Wu Xi, in his usual black robes, is a sight to behold: Even under layers of cloth his broad shoulders are visible, his long black braids with the silver hairpiece, the moon mirrored in a clear lake at night. Wu Xi in his robes is a force to be reckoned with. Wu Xi without his robes, in just some black pants, is… Well. Enticing enough to make Jing Beiyuan leave the bed before sunrise and watch him train, even after being together for years and having seen his husband naked plenty of times. Still, watching him move through the forms is different. His skin glistens with sweat, making the light catch on his collarbones, his abs. His movements show a raw power, a graceful intensity that always reminds Jing Beiyuan of a large tiger. He moves silently, with deadly precision, as if he wanted to sneak up on a hidden assassin. He doesn’t use a weapon, but Jing Beiyuan knows how strong he is, how fast, and is pretty sure that a sword would only slow him down.

Distractedly petting the sable that is curled contentedly in his lap, Jing Beiyuan marvels at his husband, until Wu Xi ends his performance with a graceful vault, landing on his hands and feet like a large cat. His hair, tied back only with a simple black leather cord, falls over his face with the movement, his eyes like glimmering coals behind the black curtain. It reminds Jing Beiyuan of their early days, of the time Wu Xi wore a veil, and he himself a mask of another kind. Trying to hide the slight shiver, he smiles at his sweaty husband who now approaches him. Before he can say anything, Wu Xi steps between his knees, carefully scooping up the sable, then reaching down to cup the nape of Jing Beiyuan’s neck. With a hint of restrained power, he pulls him up and into a searing kiss. Smiling against his lips, Wu Xi whispers, “Room,” and Jing Beiyuan lets himself be pulled.

It’s still early enough in the morning that they don’t have to be overly cautious, so when they shed their respective robes - and pets, Wu Xi’s tiny green snake gets set in its cage, while the sable leaps nimbly away from the commotion - Jing Beiyuan can’t suppress a giggle at his husband’s eagerness.

“What brought this on?”, he asks, a little breathless, as the other’s teeth close over his pulse point. Wu Xi stills for a heartbeat, then bites down harder, licking over the spot, which elicits a shiver.

“You,” is the answer, and Jing Beiyuan pulls away a fraction to look at his husband with a raised eyebrow. “I can’t remember doing anything out of the ordinary,” he smirks, “whereas you were--”

“You watched,” Wu Xi breathes into his neck, leaning back in. With another giggle, Jing Beiyuan lets himself be pulled to the bed.

Later, when they lay under scrunched up covers, sated and sweaty and content, Jing Beiyuan nuzzles into Wu Xi’s chest, inhaling his sharp scent.

“Would you do that,” he asks eventually, his voice quiet. “Sacrifice your life, I mean. For me.”

“Yes,” is all Wu Xi answers, firm and without hesitation. “I would. I will. Everything.” His arms tighten around Jing Beiyuan. After a long silence, the latter says softly, “But what if I didn’t want that?” He turns slightly to look up. “What if I didn’t want a life that’s bought with yours?”

Wu Xi doesn’t meet his gaze as he replies, “I still would. I couldn’t bear the thought of being without you, Beiyuan. I’m a coward, but I couldn’t. I thought I’d lost you once, and I..” His voice breaks, and Jing Beiyuan reaches up to cup his face. “You’re not. I would like to say that I would react differently, but…” He shrugs with a wry smile. “I wouldn’t. If I could save your life by giving up mine, I would. I would, and then wait for you again at the Three-Life Stone, until you came to meet me. And maybe this time, you would be the one with white hair.” Snuggling closer, he trails a finger over the other’s chest, then places his hand on his sternum, feeling the unrestrained energy underneath. Wu Xi turns his head, then cups Jing Beiyuan’s cheek, meeting him in a slow, languid kiss.

“I love you,” he breathes against the other’s lips, “I have loved you for all your lifetimes and I will continue to love you in all that follow. Where you go, I’m going, Beiyuan.”

⚘⚘

It takes almost another month until Zishu and his little-, no, his giant idiot return. On a sunny afternoon, as if they had just been out for a stroll, they saunter casually into the inn’s dining room, and Jing Beiyuan almost drops his teacup, staring in disbelief. Before he can say anything, Zishu grins - he grins! - at him and plops down into the bench opposite him, Wen Kexing at his side. Jing Beiyuan notices in utter shock that the latter’s hair has gone completely white.

“Wha--,” he starts, but now the waiter has spotted them, hurrying over. Giving their, admittedly quite ragged, appearance a cautious once-over, he clears his throat, but Jing Beiyuan hurries to assuage him. “Whatever these gentlemen desire to eat,” he declares, probably with more grandeur than necessary, “they will receive.” The waiter hurries to nod his head like a turtle, but Zishu just shakes his head. “Just cold water,” he says, much to Jing Beiyuan’s and the waiter’s astonishment, but the latter immediately scrambles off to bring them their order.

Jing Beiyuan looks scrutinizingly at both of them, then says slowly, “Welcome back.” Zishu nods solemnly, taking Wen Kexing’s hand under the table. “Sorry it took so long,” he says quietly. Jing Beiyuan snorts. “You don’t have to apologise to me,” he gestures into the general direction of the inner courtyard, “but to your silly little disciple.” Zishu at least has the decency to flinch, looking uncomfortable. But it is Wen Kexing who speaks first. “How is he?”, he asks, and Jing Beiyuan notices the cautious fondness in his voice. Shrugging, he admits, “There are good days and bad.” After a pause, he adds, more quietly, “And good nights and bad.” Zishu nods, as if in agreement, and Jing Beiyuan’s curiosity wins over. “What happened?”, he asks animatedly, gesturing to the state of their robes, then Wen Kexing’s hair. “You were gone almost two months, and--”

Zishu interrupts him, sounding incredulous. “Two months?” He casts an uncertain glance at his companion who looks equally stunned. “Oh.” Inhaling slowly, he adds, “Well, I’d prefer to tell the story only once, so where is that useless disciple of mine?” Grinning, Jing Beiyuan gestures again to the inner courtyard. “Training.” Zishu gives him a skeptical look, then gets to his feet. Ignoring the waiter who just arrived with their order, he heads for the inner courtyard. Jing Beiyuan tilts his head a fraction, looking at Wen Kexing, both smiling slightly. Then, from outside, “SHIFU!”, and a dull thud, followed by another muffled “Shishu!”.

Smiling into his teacup, Jing Beiyuan closes his eyes. Some stories seem to have a happy ending after all.

#qi ye #lord seventh #七爷 #wu xi #jing beiyuan #xiyuan #otp: soulmates are stupid i love you on purpose #word of honor #a tale of the wanderers #faraway wanderers #wen kexing #zhou zishu #wenzhou #my writing #fanfic #fluff

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readerinsertfanfiction · 4 years ago

Note

Darling nemo! Im back again❤❤❤🥺🥺😆hehehe this time with a 180 ask of the previous one🌈🌻😂☺! Hehehe cause all my sweet friends are so cute and smol i thought i would request a dose of sweetness so they can grow tall like them trees hehehe😂😂😂 so could i pretty please with all the condensed milk ontop request an HC of the boys (masamune, kyubae, keiji, papa shingen, sneki boi and sweetheart kennyo!) reacting to one small cute lil s/o☺🥺😳 hehehe

Sending ya all the love and catbus hugs sweetheart Nemo!❤❤😆🌻

Hehehe😂😂😂😂😂just could help but add this gif😏😏😏😏😏

Donation pot for those in need is still open! Help those in need now by adding another inch!

This campaign is in no way started out of self-interest and there is no way I’m a person in need of height. Though, I definitely wouldn’t object to an extra inch or two. 😏😏😏

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Characters: Masamune Date, Kyubei, Keiji Maeda, Shingen Takeda, Mitsuhide Akechi & Kennyo

Whilst the average height increased due to better food and growing wealth you didn’t seem to have been blessed with that increase. Sticking rather close to the ground you found that you had to crane your neck up permanently to face people. A pain that didn’t seem to have changed when you travelled back into time.

Masamune Date

Masamune was known to be slight in build. Small waist, slim shoulders, yet there was some tremendous strength within the man that could not be denied. Strength he often displayed as well whenever he easily swept you into his arms.

“Come down, kitten,” he had told you, beaming in confidence as he smiled up at the tree in which you were stuck. The ladder that you had used to climb up laid down next to him uselessly while his arms were spread. Masamune’s intentions and plans were clear, but you weren’t so on board with them as your eyes swept between the steps and the warlord.

“You can trust me,” he challenges you and that convinces you as you leap down from your spot in the tree right into his arms in which he firmly catches you, enveloping you into his embrace as he holds you close.

“See, you’re so small I can easily catch you,” Masamune smirks as he tickles you under your chin.

Kyubei

To say that Kyubei was tall was understating. Most of the warlords were tall, and that included the lord the vassal served. Kyubei was, compared to you, ginormous. Built firm like a mountain with broad shoulders that you could have sworn spawned half your height, and able to hover over you that you could have sworn that you were lucky if you could even touch his shoulder.

And yet, he was more gentle in nature than anyone. Despite his large figure Kyubei was the kindest and gentlest giant you had encountered who treated you with more warmth and care than the porcelain of a collector.

“I love how you disappear in my arms,” the man sighed contentedly when he had you in his lap. It was the truth. The wide sleeves of his kimono along with his upper body did manage to cover your whole being, making it almost seem like that the vassal was curled up into himself if you pulled your knees in a little further.

“It makes it easier to keep you all to myself,” he continued to murmur into your hair and a gentle squeeze pulled you closer into his embrace as the man breathed in your scent.

Keiji Maeda

“What am I holding?” Keiji asked you one day, hands cupping your face as he squeezed your cheeks, forcing you up on your toes a bit.

Rolling your eyes in response you murmured your answer out between pursed lips, barely understandable, as Keiji gave you another blinding smile.

“The world!” he chirped his answer before pausing, a thoughtful look crossing by.

“But what a small one it is,” he mused, earning himself a hit to the arm from your side.

Shingen Takeda

Shingen was often described to be a mountain of a man. Big as an old oak tree, broader than the sun could reach, but that never held him back from joking around with the much smaller you.

“Gravity,” he gasped, the rather modern word sounding as he clung onto you, “is,” and with a dramatic shift he pulled you down with him, though careful not to have you hurt, “pulling.”

Each word came out slowly, deliberately and theatrically as he managed to capture you fully underneath him on the floor, the rest of the words long forgotten as you wriggled underneath him in bursts of giggles and laughs at the silly antics of the man.

“Ah, no,” Shingen concludes, a satisfied smile on his face as he snuggles in, “it is your thrall that pulls me.”

Mitsuhide Akechi

“Little one,” Mitsuhide’s sonorous voice called and by the tone alone you could tell what time it was.

Perhaps you had been a little mean by diving under his arms when he tried to hug you. But the temptation to tease the warlord back for once through denial had been too great.

Unfortunately, Mitsuhide always gave back what he was given and he paid it back tenfold leaving you in debt.

“Your legs are far too short to escape me, dearest small one.”

The words haunted you as he easily caught you, pulling you back into his chest as he whispered a mean promise down your ear.

Kennyo

The differences between the two of you was stark. You were small and warm, he was large and harsh. It daunted the man whenever he touched you, afraid of breaking you, even more afraid of hurting you. But you liked to stay close to him, you even seemed to enjoy it and the man could only allow you to.

There was a weight on his chest, small and precious, two arms surrounding him, barely holding on. Kennyo smiled at that endearing sight of you clinging onto him, enjoying how you never shied away from him despite the obvious fact that he could easily crush you.

Your love was enormous compared to the size you carried and Kennyo felt overwhelmed by that without a fail each time you drew close.

#ikesen masamune #ikesen kyubei #ikesen keiji #ikesen shingen #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen kennyo #ikemen sengoku #ikesen #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikemen sengoku kyubei #ikemen sengoku keiji #ikemen sengoku shingen #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku kennyo

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princesssarcastia · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Star Trek AOS? (And do you think Kirk was on Tarsus?)

i have SO MANY THOUGHTS about star trek aos, so buckle up. brace yourself.

star trek aos is a terrible disaster and i love it SO MUCH. for me, star trek 2009 is still in that class of unreasonably pleasing movies like the mummy or stardust or jumanji: welcome to the jungle. what they are isn’t exactly top notch but you love them for being exactly what they are.

star trek aos is a star-studded fucking phenomenal cast of some of the best actors working today, which makes up for the very inconsistent writing and unfortunate low-level current of sexism.

literally where would i be today if chris pine could not make faces Like That. i honestly couldn’t tell you.

overall, I have quite a few bones to pick with JJ Abrams for setting up a star trek universe that is less Wacky Space Utopia adventures with liberal political commentary ranging from unsubtle to im-hitting-you-over-the-head-with-my-opinions-like-they’re-a-brick—

to this kind of overtly militarized action-hero adventure porn where one white man saves the universe from Scary People Who Don’t Look Like Us And Are Crazy. I also don’t appreciate what they did to Jim Kirk, turning him into this womanizing self-centered bastard who has to be in charge. I REALLY don’t appreciate the casual misogyny, what with the last of rank stripes for women and the gratuitous sex-ed up scenes and the way that Amanda Grayson gets fridged for man-pain and and and— you get the picture.

Or at least, that’s what they tried to do to jim kirk. and god fucking bless chris pine for being able to make facial expressions, because i firmly believe if pretty much almost anyone else had played Jim Kirk as written by JJ Abrams, that’s exactly what he would have been.

But because of chris pine’s acting, instead, most of the AOS fandom and I realized/decided that this “womanizing” version of jim kirk actually really really hates himself so much, most likely for trauma reasons.

we took that shit and ran with it and never really stopped.

zachary quinto is also like god tier casting. unfortunately the writers for the first two movies mostly gave him Anger as a primary motivator, which like, is not exactly how I would interpret Spock at all, but quinto played this Angry Spock so so well.

ZOE SALDANA PLAYS THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE, NYOTA UHURA, PERFECTLY AND THAT’S ALL I’LL HEAR ON THE MATTER.

john cho should be cast in everything ever he’s amazing and I love seeing him. this man has the range. hikaru sulu is the backbone of this fucking ship. this man wins the big damn hero award every single movie.

i still miss living in the same world as anton yelchin. i really, really do.

I also have found family feelings all over these movies, where these baby versions of iconic characters from the sixties are brought together too early to witness too much fucking trauma. harry potter references aren’t exactly in vogue right now, but there’s this one piece from a—well, actually, its a harry potter reference in an mcu fic i read years ago, now that i think about it, but anyway:

it was something like, there are some things you can’t go through with a person—like that mountain troll in harry potter—without becoming friends for life. there are some crucibles that will bind you together forever. and awful as it is, I think Nero and the Vulcan genocide were the AOS crew’s mountain troll. there’s no going back or separating, after that.

also I feel like there’s a ton of competence porn in this trilogy that i deeply, deeply enjoy.

star trek: 2009 and into darkness are both grimdark male power fantasy bullshit that only accidentally hits all the right buttons for me. I love them dearly but i know EXACTLY what they are, thank you.

star trek: beyond is a delightful movie with no real plot where our favorite crew are finally Adults With A Modicum Of Common Sense And Stability, instead of Disaster Children Angsting All Over The Place, and they get to save the universe with the power of excellent rock music and friendship. how cool is that?!? i wanna give simon pegg a high five for making this movie.

on a more meta note, what I find kind of satisfying about these movies is that—for all his many faults that i’m always happy to expound upon—JJ Abrams actually went for it. He Did That. He just made his own brand new timeline, killed jim kirk’s dad, then gave him an abusive uncle/step-dad, then literally destroyed one of the founding planets of the Federation, then he, in an iconic fashion, switched Jim and Spock’s places in the infamous “wrath of khan” death scene, so instead Spock gets to watch Jim die.

and you know what? I can forgive a lot of bullshit for that kind of poetic angsty fanfic plot detail.

every time uhura says, “an alternate reality,” in star trek 2009 just gives me chills. every time she says it, you feel the weight of sixty years of history and legacy sitting on these people’s shoulders, the weight of arguably one of the most popular TV shows of all time.

imagine, living in a new world you’re aware isn’t the one that was supposed to be. imagine that!

oh! and on the question of tarsus:

what I think is probably true irl: JJ Abrams has never thought that far ahead in his life. correct me if i’m wrong, but hadn’t he.....not even watched star trek.........when he made these movies............like lol i’d bet you this man didn’t even really know Tarsus was a thing. And even if he did, I don’t think he thought it was part of the new canon he was creating. AOS is much more self-contained than the serialized universe the original star trek was, so I don’t think that AOS was intended to encompass all those things, like tarsus, that we as a fandom like to obsess over.

what I personally enjoy: i love me some AOS fic that explores the ridiculous amounts of trauma that comes from living through a genocide. I think that, given we all decided AOS Jim Kirk hates himself, and engages in a shit ton of self-sabotaging and destructive behavior to cope, it’s a reasonable jump to think that at least some of that comes from some survivor’s guilt bullshit from Tarsus. And honestly, hit me up if you want recs for this, because boy do I have them. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: no one does angst quite like AOS!Jim Kirk.

what I believe wholeheartedly: this is like Schrödinger's Plot Point, okay, it both exists and doesn’t exist simultaneously. it’s easy to read tarsus into some of jim’s behavior, and it’s easy to read none of it in, and both of those choices are valid. go with your gut, go with what makes you happy, go with what you think makes sense. This is where fandom lives, in these little details that fall through the cracks.

anyway WOW did I talk a lot. those are at least some of my star trek thoughts. i do have others, but i’ve expounded on them before on this blog, and y’all don’t need me to repeat myself

ask me my thoughts on ______

#star trek #aos star trek #jj abrams #ask meme #actually i also had the tarsus convo with a mutual recently #and like 99.99% of my fandom opinions it boils down to: You Do You Babe We're Doing This For Fun #long post #(oops)#lupanymeria

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hei-ch0u · 4 years ago

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Oh boy. Here goes... Shingeki no Kyojin Final chapter (139) thoughts and analysis ✰

Well, where do I even begin to accumulate my thoughts on the final chapter of Shingeki no Kyojin? Even after some time to reflect and read the chapter many times, over and over - I’m still going to struggle to form this analysis. But, alas I shall try my best despite this.

I appreciate anyone who takes the time to read this and understand my own views of the final chapter. Proceed with caution - ⚠️ spoilers ahead ⚠️

This chapter and ending overall has left me with a love/hate relationship with the overall tale in full. I’d even go as far as saying it has tainted my view slightly of the entire series in one way or another and I will never look at it the same way I did - as much as I wish I could. My reasoning for the love/hate relationship I have will come, but, I want to start off by saying that despite it’s ending I will always appreciate this story and Isayama for his work, even if I myself don’t approve of his steering towards the ending.

It is just like I said in my theory, the thing we all need to recognise with this story is that the characters we love and have cherished, were never going to get exactly what they desired and if anything this chapter is a clear indication of that fact. It has been a story that was paved for a bitter, somewhat ‘bittersweet’ ending (yes, I hoped it wouldn’t be in the form of ‘that’, but it was). It is just as Mikasa said - “The world is cruel and merciless, but it is also beautiful”. This tale became the typical embodiment of humanity and how ruthless it can be.

Again, like I said in my theory, it was heavily foreshadowed that Eren was playing devil’s advocate and might have to sacrifice his freedom in this life to save the ones who meant the most to him. We heard hints in OST’s such as My War, Red Swan, Vogel Im Kafig, among others…

“Angel playing disguise with Devil’s face”

“I’ll cry for you in a dream”

“All of my kingdom, for your return, I’d let it burn!”

“Spread your wings, which are dreaded in blood”

“And eternity as you, fly to heaven”

“Like a fallen angel”

“Looking down from above I feel awful”

“Every living being dies someday, whether we are ready to die or not”

“Is that the angel who flew down from the twilight sky?”

“Is that the devil who crawled out from the crevice?”

“Tears, anger, compassion, cruelty, peace, chaos, faith, betrayal.”

It was foreshadowed, all of those things in the last example is humanity in a nutshell. The use of birds to symbolise the dead was shown on multiple occasions. Hell, even in the Levi ova, his friends are shown as 2 birds above him as he continues forward. It didn’t shock me that Eren’s soul was represented or “reincarnated” in the form of a bird - simply because birds are the most free creatures on our planet, they can fly over land, sea and maintain the air around them. Realistically, we should’ve analysed the birds presence more (it was even implied in the opening trailer for season 4. Falco awoke to a bird flying above him, we saw the bird present many times in even past seasons and don’t get me started on how many times it was present in the manga). Our Angel was Eren. He was a fallen angel - a slave to the story and what it means to be human, to feel deeply and make sacrifices. He was never a monster, just a pawn in a wicked game.

For a split moment of initial shock, I let the “judging a book by its cover” ideal kick in. After calming down and having access to proper translations, again I can’t say I love this ending or hate it - it has the bittersweet notion that was intended, but it was also lukewarm. It is not perfect by any means, there are some plot holes and loose ends that could have been tied up by extension. However, Isayama maybe intended for it to remain open for interpretation. Something of which, I’ll reveal what I personally took from the ending.

One thing I am surely certain of, is that I can hold my hands above my head and say this chapter 100% embodied my love for my favourite character - Eren Jaeger. He had such a tragic outcome, he did it all for his friends and loved ones. He was never free, not in life and partially not in death. He was a broken child, in a broken world with a broken fate of shouldering mass amounts of responsibility with no idea of how to change or control the past, present and future. To witness your best friend talking of all the things he was going to see, yet knowing you wouldn’t be there to see it yourself. To know the girl who was there for him forever and always, could never be his to cherish. He had no freedom to do so. To live the life he wanted to, he would have died anyway. If he had ran off with Mikasa, he would have damned his friends. The life he wanted was not feasible, therefore he chose to sacrifice his desires so his friends could live long lives, unlike the one he was damned to. He was a character who was torn along all sides of the coin. Torn between his desires, his duty and his self - all while experiencing memories from all angles. He was not a monster or a psychopath and I won’t let others spit on his name due to their lack of analysis and empathy. He is human. He is allowed to feel. He isn’t pathetic for wanting to live, for wanting to be with his friends or the girl he loves. He is 19. Can you really say you wouldn’t feel the same? It is natural to be frustrated at your life being ripped from under your feet at such a young age. He was damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Look at his face in paths when he talks with Armin, he is devastated and he had no solution.

However, I do believe he will be reunited with his friends once more. After all, the scouts were reunited in death, so why shouldn’t he? His friends will not live in vain, his sacrifice will mean something. They will live their life to the fullest and find peace in life and then in death - they have Eren to thank for that. Another misconception I want to pick out of the fandom is that they did not condone genocide, they did not thank Eren for ridding the population of 80%. Armin states it as an “error”. What they did do, was acknowledge Eren’s sacrifice for them to live and that they understood it’s not what he wanted himself, but that due to unseen forces. - did he really have a choice? It is not by any means perfect, but it gives them freedom to live out with the walls - was this not Eren’s dream? To be free, not confined within the walls by Titans. He did exterminate all titans, that is one goal Eren Jaeger accomplished. We don’t know the full extent of the power of the attack titan or the founding titan, this is one of the open plot holes. Eren himself explains this, he himself has no clue and his head is a mess - is it any shock that his head is a mess? People would go crazy over less. He was a pawn in a story with no happy ending. At least not for him.

Even in the bird reincarnation theory, I hope he is happy and free. Free to roam the skies, perch upon the tallest mountains, titter along the grass banks of the world and watch over his comrades, his friends, the ones he loves deeply… The tragic protagonist I will always remember. (Especially as one who was done so dirty by his author)

There was so many routes this manga could have taken, fan theories proved this and I do think the ending could have been executed better. We were not getting a happy ending, it is not happy by all means. Those characters left have to live in the aftermath, aware of their friends sacrifice and all he had to put himself through for them to live the lives they themselves desired. My favourite quote will always be:

“Don’t pity the dead. Pity the living”

Mikasa lost her family in more ways than one, she has to live a life where she didn’t get the one person she desired more than anything, but I believe she will move on and Eren will be by her side the entire time until they are reunited in death. Levi is the same, he lost everyone and whoever his love may have been - Erwin, Hanji, Petra (who knows). Either way, he didn’t have those loved ones around in the end. But, he no longer has to fight for survival and can spend the remainder of his time resting until the day in the future he can be reunited with his comrades, friends and even kick Eren a big one, ruffle his hair, tell him its okay and tell him all the things he wanted to tell him like he said. Armin lost his best friend, he held the burden above his head that he himself killed Eren and not Mikasa. However, he has an abundance of friends, he has Annie and he can travel the world like he desired - like Mikasa, he will have Eren by his side for the remainder of his time.

Jean can meet the woman of his dreams and have the children like he desired, knowing that even in their silly quarrels - Eren was loyal to him always. Connie can have his mother back, his family and move on. Reiner can live, not die like he once desired and live on knowing of Eren’s sacrifice, that he wasn’t a monster himself. He is free from the curse, as is Annie, Pieck and Falco. The warriors have their families back. Gabi and Falco can be together unlike their comparisons, sad, but fitting. They are in Paradis, a place we never expected them to be in the end, advocating for change alongside Onyakapon looking after their elder, Levi, alongside them. On Eren’s death anniversary, it is implied they all return to his grave to be together, none of them are alone like we initially thought. Mikasa is not alone in Paradis since it is implied that Levi, Onyankapon, Gabi, Falco, Historia even… still live amidst the walls - I think it would be wasteful to assume such a strong character secludes herself after the love of her life’s death. She does not have to love another man, she can choose to live her life for herself, a long one alongside her friends. This manga has never necessarily needed to have love stories, they are implied, but not needed. For life itself is the embodiment of their freedom.

This above is the rosy way of looking at it and it’s what I personally will take from it. I overall think it is terrible writing and use of dialogue - there’s no denying it. I myself as a writer and artist would have done it differently. Isayama has created a manga with a tragic story that reveals the raw, tainted feeling of what it’s like to be human. We all want things, we all have desires…but we don’t always get them, no matter how hard we try, some will slip from our grasps. That is life, no matter the universe. Yes. But, I do think in ways Isayama did taint and obliterate Eren as a character. This I am disappointed in. It is a typical author ideal of damning his protagonist and the sad thing about being a stories protagonist - you risk being ruined due to being written so complex initially that the author loses sight of how to conclude your arc respectfully. I believe from what we have been shown, he would not have accepted his death that easily and would fight for another way. Although, I cannot blame him as I myself would have felt defeated, suicidal and depressed at learning everything he did after his contact with Historia at such a young age. Remember, how you are brought up in an already cruel world is key - he didn’t stand a chance. But alas, I still feel he would’ve fought. This Eren is not the Eren we saw the majority of the manga, but then again he did change and I feel so sorry that the Titan power had that effect on him.

This is the character development true Eren stans are enraged with. TATAKAE! Fight the attack titan, fight the founding titan, fight against your cruel fate - don’t succumb to defeat. There is always another way. I don’t accept this version of Eren, due to the development we saw built by Isayama of his character, I can’t. It leaves so many gaps among other plot reveals. I don’t see what was accomplished. Eren’s being, his life, was a ploy to keep the other characters we care about alive, but at what cost ? If I was Eren’s friend, I would go forward like he wanted me to, but I could never forget the burden he bared and what he had to go through and what he did to achieve that outcome for me. I would forever be sad. I would be living in a world much like this one, lacking in peace and serenity and above all is that not what we all desire in one way or another? He did not necessarily know the Dina titan would go for his mother, but he had to direct it away from Bertholdt since in the timeline it was not his time to die. Always remember the theory of time, one thing changed, drastically changes the outcome. He did not want civilians or people within Paradis to die, it became collateral damage and no one would be able to fight for some time because of the 80% notion. He gave them time to live, time to change things to the best of their abilities and experience all they possibly could. They became the ‘heroes’, but again, at what cost?

Now, to the plot holes and answers I feel needed to be present for the story to knit together in a better way. This will be less “paragraph” based and more pointed, since…well these things were not explained. Majority of potential foreshadowing was swept under the rug like it meant nothing to bring about the lukewarm feeling I was talking about.

The alien like hallucigenia, what exactly was its purpose? It’s reason for being? It disappeared and ceased to exist. No mention of how it came to be. Even Ymir just vanished. Everything ceased to exist and Eren himself couldn’t understand Ymir’s reasoning other than being able to witness love. This seemed to be cop out on Isayama’s part.

Historia’s pregnancy was heavily implied and emphasised on within the manga, making readers think it meant something (when a creator zones in on these things, its usually for further plot reveal) Her character development was destroyed and she deserved better. She sidelined herself and stayed away till the final moment where it is implied she and Armin will become the negotiators of a new world, all while housing tyrants (Jaegerists). Again a further implication of Shonen manga and its poor interpretation of women.

The conclusion to Ymir and Eren’s particular character arcs was shocking and this can’t be dismissed. We needed both their sides of things to explain more. It lacked real conclusion and didn’t match up to past events or character development. This chapter should have purely been an Eren POV with the ending moments of how the scouts moved on. Of course this couldn’t have been done in 1 chapter, hence the recognition that this manga needed ‘more’ and it wasn’t enough to tie it all together. Another flaw in Isayama’s writing and continuity.

The Ackermans? Don’t get me started. My theory again will entail my rage about this one. Did the Ackerman power cease to exist like the titan curse? What is their origin story? To imply the Ackerman blood concept in all its parallels and foreshadowing to not even have the 2 remaining characters from said bloodline talk about their shared experience in thorough detail is such an abysmal hole in plot. Especially with it being heavily emphasised throughout the entire manga.

I barely saw any signs of Eren being in love with Mikasa? If this was the case, then it should have been shown in the manga and emphasised like isayama did with many other things that eventually had no meaning. I always viewed their relationship as very toxic to both sides and needed amending. So for Eren to suddenly turn round and say he doesn’t want her to be with another man....I find this a very bad continuation and completely disregards how Eren has been the past 138 chapters. Why was it so hard for him to say these things even before he made contact with historia and unravelled it all? Was it the power of the attack titan preventing him?.... (below)

The attack titan and founding titan, explain how it works. Why does Eren himself not fully understand yet he embodies them? Why could he not have flipped the switch? Why could he not ask for help? Explanation is needed.

All the time loop links diminished to nothing other than Eren’s past, present and future…yet its implied in many characters even in their childhoods mentions of things they could not be aware of. How can it merely be coincidence?

I wholeheartedly believe that this was not the initial ending of Shingeki no Kyojin, specifically because I and a few others I’ve seen noticed the shift in the story around 10 or so chapters ago. It seemed to be going in the route of a few particular fan theories and then suddenly (quite drastically I’ll add) shifted into this ending. I can only theorise that Isayama changed his original ending along the way to please editors and readers in different ways. In interviews past, he has completely contradicted things he has said about the manga and its ending with what he has produced in the final chapter. When you look at it from a marketing point of view as a selling point, if Isayama had killed certain characters like “Levi” for example or left the ending dark as it possibly could have been (something I wouldn’t have put past yams to do) it would be bad from a marketing point given the likes of Levi is the targeted favourite of the series (even with being a side character) and editors would heavily warn him of this.

People are saying that it’s Isayama’s story and editors won’t have influence - you’d be heavily surprised how much the editing team can have influence, especially when a story of this magnitude becomes so popular. I do think in ways, Isayama gave up. As an artist even myself, its very abundantly clear when a fellow creative loses drive and how the concept of something becoming popular can influence you to become bored and look for a way out. Hence, the clear signs of the story coming out as rushed, its all there, the loss of continuity, the holes in plot and even though Isayama’s art can be inconsistently coherent - some parts of the past few chapters weren’t at the full potential we saw previously. We watched him get better to suddenly somehow revert? That to me seems like a creator who had just had enough and maybe in the end chose to veer off his original plan.

Alas! As I said, I will always love Shingeki no Kyojin despite its ending and loose ties, it holds a place in my heart and has been a favourite of mine since my school days. Being an adult now In her 20’s and experiencing the many troubles of what its like to be human and a creative can sympathise with the struggles and stress Isayama would have been under all these years as his manga gradually became the phenomenon it is now. As it is our favourite characters time to rest and move on, it is his also. Although the story is not where I and many others hoped it would go, I still thank him massively for giving me characters like Eren Jaeger, Levi Ackerman, Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert… the list goes on. Thank you for embodying why Eren was my first and last favourite character. Goodbye Shingeki no Kyojin.

#snk 139 #aot 139 #I've put a read more so proceed with caution #eren jaeger #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #levi ackerman #armin arlert #if i tag all of them itll go on and on #snk final chapter #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot #snk manga #snk analysis #snk theory

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akinaichan · 3 years ago

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Sooooo...

It's been a while since I've done anything creative. My motivation is lacking and my attempts at renewing them are few and far between. I don't usually do this--not that I haven't done this before, but I am going to try something different and actually share...something. Writing, if anyone is interested, or if not, that's okay. Just testing the waters to see if I don't actually chicken out and delete it later.

That being said, here's a short snippit of a Hobbit fic I've been procrastinating on since 2018. Maybe it'll actually go somewhere. Who knows! Comments and critique are always welcome here, so don't be shy. I appreciate you even looking at my material.

Anyway, here we go!

______

Title: Unwelcome Company

Current Rating: T

Fandom: The Hobbit (Films)

Category: F/M, Multi

Characters: Thorin, Reader, Bilbo, Balin, Dwalin, Dori, Nori, Ori, Bombur, Bofur, Bifur, Fili, Kili, Oin, Gloin, Gandalf, and more.

Tags: Sue me, I don't know how to tag well. It's new to me.

xxxx

"What have you done...?"

"...Nothing," you had said rather calmly. Unlike the rise and fall of your chest suggested.

"Nothing…? Does this look like nothing to you?!" He gestured to the sight of the camp.

Your gaze shifted, and you could see that debris was everywhere.

From bedrolls scattered and torn across the campsite, to the turned out fire and their uneaten dinner now strewn across the forest floor. It was an outright mess, and their supplies suffered nothing short of destroyed. They would be lucky to find anything salvageable in this destruction, but it could have been worse, much worse than any of those present realize.

“I leave you with the simplest task,” returned that familiar voice grasping your attention. Your eyes met with winter blue. “…and you cannot even do that. What worth are you to me—to the company? What use do you have besides causing us more grief?”

You say nothing, and remain in place before you gazed about the company. There was many a disgruntled face that stood within the small gathering. While some did not know what to make of this disaster, others appeared exasperated, angered even, by what you have done.

“We should have never brought you with us,” said he who stood out from among the others. “I knew it to be a mistake, yet I listened to Gandalf as if you would be something of worth! You are useless; a pathetic clumsy oaf that has only served to burden us further. Even the hobbit has done more to be of use to us than you. And what have you to show?” His gaze hardened, daring you to prove him wrong. “There is nothing you have done that has been the least bit helpful, and I will not stand here and allow this company to fall apart because of you! I would rather gut you where you stand and leave you to fester while the beasts of the night supple on your corpse. ”

“Thorin—“

“Be silent!” he snapped, issuing no argument to his claim. It had been Balin to try and sway his harsh words, but what good had that done but to silence the old dwarf.

“This should have been said long ago, and I think I have held my tongue long enough!” His eyes remained on yours. “You do not belong here…” he said, taking a single step forward. “Leave us. Be gone from our sights. We will have nothing more to do with you…”

“Wait!” called the young male dwarf with black shoulder length hair. “We cannot just let him go. It’s dark! Who knows what would be in the forest this time of night. He would be going to his death!”

“Kili’s right!” said another. This time it was the dwarf with a twisted woolen hat. “We can’t expect ‘im to go out there on his own. At least let ‘im explain this…this accident!”

“Accident!?” spoke the bald headed dwarf. It was Dwalin. “Are your eyes on straight, Bofur? We’ve almost got nothing left, thanks to ‘im!”

“And it wouldn’t be the first time!” said another with a beard decorated in silver beads. It was Gloin.

The company seemed to stir in that moment; agreeing to disagree over what transpired from the moment you set foot within the company. It was turning into a heated argument, and watching them as they were, fighting over your presence was enough to make you decide your next course of action.

“That’s enough!” shouted Thorin, silencing all who were present. The company fell quiet, uttering no sound or noise to be made as he gazed about the company. “We will discuss this no more! Let’s get this place cleaned up. ” His eyes shifted to you as he began to move. “Oin, Gloin—start a fire! Give us some light before night’s end.”

With that, the King under the Mountain turned his back on you, and sparing you no glance as he began to pick up the pieces of the camp. There were few who stood hesitant as they gazed in your direction before following in suit with the others as they too began to pick up what remained of their supplies.

#thorin oakenshield #thorin's company #the hobbit #fanfic #reader #reader insert #snippit #fili and kili #balin the dwarf #dwalin #gloin #bofuri #bifur the dwarf #bombur #ori the dwarf #nori the dwarf #gandalf

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dontshootmespence · 4 years ago

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Through It All

Part 19

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,003

Warnings: Special visitors!

A/N: FLOOF.

Spencer turns over and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his back as sleep begs for you to return for just a little longer. “Don’t forget, Derek and Savannah are coming to visit today,” Spencer mumbles.

“I know,” you reply. As much as you want to go back to sleep, you’re looking forward to seeing them. The last time you saw them was just before Charlotte was born, and between babies and distance the phone was all you had to stay in touch. Spencer’s been looking forward to this for ages. “Wanna go tackle diaper and clothing changes together?”

Like zombies, you both rise from the bed and stumble into Charlotte’s nursery, but the moment you see her sitting up in her crib with an enormous smile on her face, you can’t help but wake up a little bit more. “Hello, my little flower,” Spencer says softly, picking her up and placing her on the changing table. “You sleep okay?”

Neither of you woke up during the night, so the answer must’ve been yes.

While Spencer takes care of her diaper change, you search through her mountain of clothing (She has more than you. How is this possible?) and finally find what you’re looking for - a little mint green sweatsuit with Minnie Mouse on it and Minnie ears on the hoodie. Getting her changed is actually more difficult than when she was a newborn because she has control of her limbs and basically wants them in any other area than where they need to be.

Feeding is fun though. She makes the funniest faces when she hates something and when she loves something, her eyes go wide with awe, like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted, which is hysterical. While Spencer handles feeding, you make breakfast for you both, eating semi-leisurely before you have to handle the morning chores and get ready before Derek and Savannah arrive. Parent life means you have no idea where the hours go. Before you know it, there’s a knock at the door.

Setting Charlotte in front of a mountain of toys, you both go to greet your guests. With a baby, you cling to adult interactions like a magnet on a refrigerator.

“Pretty boy!” Derek exclaims. “How ya doing?”

“Tired,” Spencer laughs softly. “But alive. You?”

Savannah walks in with Hank on her hip. “About the same. Expect being tired for the next, oh, 18 years at least. Right, Derek? How are you guys doing?” She asks, giving both of you a hug and kiss hello.

Conversation is easy, flowing as Hank and Charlotte play with each other in the living room. While they occupy each other, the four of you talk about work, and eventually Savannah and yourself stand against the refrigerator watching your boys reminisce about their days at the BAU. “Do you miss it?” Derek asks, peeking over the counter to make sure his little man is behaving himself.

Shaking his head, Spencer tips his second mug of coffee into his mouth. He still hasn’t woken up yet even though you’ve both been awake for hours. “I miss the team and seeing everyone every day, but I’m so glad I’ve made a different life for myself. I still teach and I consult every so often, so I get just enough while still being able to be at home.”

“Me too, man. At first I thought it was gonna drive me crazy, but now Savannah and the little man kick my ass enough.”

“You know it,” Savannah replies, slapping her husband on the shoulder as she throws her head back in laughter. “Plus, it’s just nice to have you home.”

Slipping into Spencer’s lap, you curl against him, all pretenses out the window as you lazily lounge there sans makeup and in the rattiest clothes imaginable. Silence falls when Hank starts talking to Charlotte and she starts babbling back. All four of you get wrapped up in how cute they are. “It’s nice to finally see you happy, kid.” Derek claps Spencer on the back. “You deserve it.”

“Cheers with coffee mugs?”

In unison, your mugs clink together and drink in celebration of your new lives. “Here’s to our families,” Spencer says.

After the four of you play with the babies for a while, with Spencer and Derek getting a little more into racing cars than Charlotte and Hank, you decide to chance going to a restaurant with a toddler and a 9.5 month old. You’re all craving Mexican and there’s a great place down the street that opened after Derek moved back to Chicago, so you decide to take them there. Just as you and Spencer and grabbing jackets out of the closet, Savannah screams out from the kitchen. “Umm, guys? Has Charlotte stood before?”

Like a cartoon, you do a double take at Spencer before the two of you rush out into the living room with your limbs hanging both in and out of your jackets. There’s Charlie, in the kitchen, right next to Savannah, standing next to a chair. “She’s standing!” Spencer smacks his hands to his head, practically ripping his hair out in excitement. Charlotte stares up and smiles. “Holy crap, you’re standing, Charlie!”

With tears in your eyes, you quickly slip your phone out of your pocket and press record, watching as Savannah takes hold of her tiny little hands and walks her toward Spencer, who’s crouching down at her level, bouncing on his heels in excitement.

“How is she so big already?” You ask, turning to Derek, who also has his phone out. “Does it just fly by like this?”

Glancing down to where Hank is still occupied with some matchbox cars, he replies fondly. “It really does. Feels like he started walking yesterday. Right?”

Savannah is too entranced with helping Charlotte over to Spencer to respond.

Derek slips on his coat and walks behind Spencer, clapping both of you on the shoulders. “She’s about to get into everything,” he chuckles. “Get ready.”

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1 @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid @lazynoodledragon @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97 @grace-superpowers @softestlavender @ssa-dr-ladylock @drprettyboy @patricks-fabulous-face @tearosaria @shxdowofdarkness @marvels-gurl

#through it all #the most natural thing in the world #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #dontshootmespence

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years ago

Text

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 1]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 1.7k+

summary: It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: so the first part! mind you this is unedited so im sorry if there are any spelling errors or if it sucked. ;^; i’ll try updating every week but please bear with me- class is about to start soon for me :(( Also- I hope you catch the two cameos of two other kpop idols in here ;)

Please message me if you want to be tagged for the future updates! <3

↞previous ♛ next↠

You were always full of surprises.

You surprised your mother with your first kick in the womb while she was tidying your father’s workbench. You surprised your whole family when you came out of the womb as a girl- not as a boy like a village’s midwife predicted. You surprised your father with the first sword you crafted, showing that the gift of smithing didn’t stop at your older brother.

So it wasn’t unexpected when you expressed your desire to open another smithy in town.

“Now why would you want to do that, my dear?” Your father asked with a gentle smile, wincing at the injury his leg sustained during an accident in the workshop. “Are you not satisfied here with us?”

Your younger self momentarily glanced at his injury, shaking her head before answering him with a hopeful grin. “I am papa. But we will be able to earn more for the future. And you don’t have to tire yourself out in the smithy anymore, papa…” Your voice trailed off at the end, your smaller hands reaching out to hold her father’s.

Your father smiles gently although there was almost a sad glint to it. He raised his calloused hand to your cheek, caressing the skin there softly and pinching it afterward. He laughed quietly when you swat his hand away with a tiny pout on your rosy cheeks.

“My dear, you never fail to brighten up and think of the loved ones surrounding you. For that, I’m grateful.” He grunted as he stood up from his seat, leaning on the cane that was made for him. He gently cupped the back of your head and pulled you forward to kiss the crown of your hair.

“But don’t worry too much about me. I’ll be able to manage.” He flashes you one of his reassuring smiles before limping away to his workbench to continue his work.

You looked over to your father, brows furrowed together as your hands gripped at the apron that hung around your waist. One day- you’d make him proud and he’d never have to suffer again.

Forward to many years later. Here you are now, a young woman of twenty-two, ready to start the day.

You yawned behind your palm, looking over to the window in the corner of the room on the right. There was no light creeping through the cracks on the shutters which was a telltale sign that the sun was still asleep and that the town was still in the early hours of the morning. It wasn’t uncommon for you to wake at this ungodly time of the day. You always had to start early because as soon as the sun rises the whole town comes to life.

Another yawn escapes you as your hand flies across the bedside table, finding the small box of matches and candlestick that you kept. You pull back your hand and hiss quietly as you feel a tiny splinter on your palm. You ignore the pain for the moment and continue searching for the candle and matchbox.

As soon as you find it, you light the candle and make work of removing the splinter in your palm. You set the candle into its respective holder and glanced over to your brother’s side of the room. His back was to you, shoulders going up and down as he breathed steadily. You roll her eyes in half amusement and half exasperation, a quiet sigh escaping you. He always stayed up late.

You get up, bringing the candlestick with you, and proceed to head to the kitchen in your small house. You grab your shawl on the way there as a draft blew through the house. It was always cold where you lived- especially since it was near the mountains- but it was even colder in the mornings.

As you move about the kitchen, you can hear footsteps approaching. “What time did you sleep last night, Christopher?” You ask your brother, not looking up from slicing the hard bread you had.

“Earlier than usual..” He yawns, running his hand through his dark hair. He assisted you in making breakfast, bringing out the earthenware jug of goat’s milk and pouring it into the clay mugs you each have.

“But late as always.” You counter back as you set the slices of bread onto the table. You proceed to return the jug of milk to the cupboard but sigh when you realize how much lighter it was than before. “Looks like we’ll be out of milk soon.”

“Then it’s another week without it,” Christopher adds as he cleans up the crumbs and cuts some slices of goat cheese to go with the bread. “Oh well… we’re used to it anyway. You know how most of what we earn goes to papa’s medicines. Not to forget his ointments.”

“I know Chris, I know.”

You two eat in silence, letting the topic pass by quickly. It’s been a decade since your father had the accident and twelve years since your mother passed from an illness. Since then, it’s just been the three of you. You and your brother worked hard from sunrise till sunset- anything to get your father to rest. You both hated to see how he limped as he walked from one place to the other. You both never told him this but you both saw him sitting on his bed one night, seemingly cursing himself as he stared at the cane he had flung across his room. It pained you to see your father, who usually held his head high, look so defeated.

“I’m off to open the smithy.” You announced as soon as you were done with your meal. “Take care of papa will you, big-nose?”

Christopher nodded, cheeks full of bread and cheese. “See you later stinky-breath”

“It’s just morning breath..!” You refute as you head back to your room to change into your work attire.

After changing into some pants, you threw on your boots and grabbed the worn leather gloves that hung by the doorway. You waved goodbye to your brother and crossed the street to your family’s little smithy.

Few people were already out and about. The delicious smell of fresh bread from the baker’s wafted through the air, thankfully overpowering the nasty odor of goat dung that your neighbors were shoveling out. Probably to be used for the farm they had, or, what little of farmland they had. It was hard to grow things around this area- especially with the altitude and type of soil but the townsfolk managed.

The few shops that were in the village started to open up and the faint sound of the quarry-workers’ song drifted up from the mountain and down into the area, their voices carried by the gentle morning breeze.

“Morning ____!” Magda, your elderly neighbor, greeted as she dusted her carpet from the window.

“Good morning Magda!” You greet back as you head into the smithy. Your boots squelched in the mud created from the dust that floated down from the mountain that mixed with the moist atmosphere created in the early morning.

The smell of heated leather, coal dust, and molten iron greeted your nostrils, burning your lungs with familiarity. You light up the tiny lanterns in the corner of the smithy and your workbench, illuminating the once dark area before grabbing the bucket beside it to fetch some water used in cooling the metal. You hum along to the quarry worker's song, having picked up the tune from having to hear it daily as you work. By the time you were finished with setting everything up, the sun was high in the sky and the town was once more bursting with life.

Your father and brother soon enter, making you smile. “Good morning father.” You greet him with a kiss to his cheek.

“Good morning my flower.” He greets in return as he limps his way over to his workbench.

You tried not to stare after him but you couldn't help it. It seems as if his limp grows worse day by day. You hoped that it the worst will never come- it was a lingering thought but you chose to keep it that way: a what-if scenario. It'll only crush your father's heart if he had to stop crafting and blacksmithing altogether- all because of his injury.

The day continued as usual. The usual customers, both kind and impatient; long lists of requests varying from a specific type of blade and scabbard to the most standard and basic ones. Soon, the sound of a mallet hammering against metal or the hissing of something hot meeting the cool water filled the area. It was practically music to you by now. Time seemed to just flow past the small family of blacksmiths as they worked hard, sweat forming on their brow and skin.

“Careful big-nose,” You tease Christopher when you catch him slipping. You saw how his eyes drooped from his lack of sleep, causing him to trip. Lucky for him- he didn’t drop the mallet he was holding onto his foot.

Lord- he needs to rest.

Chris only laughed dryly and stuck his tongue out at you to which you mirrored quite childishly. Your father only shook his head in amusement, pushing back the spectacles that sat on his nose as he engraved delicate markings into the sheathe a customer ordered a while back.

You were about to throw another playful jab at your brother when the sounds of brass trumpets echoed throughout the village. The people around you grew confused as it continued. There were horns in your village, yes, but this was different. It sounded more regal and official compared to the somewhat brash sound of the village horns.

You threw a rather quizzical look to your brother who shrugged in response. Many of the townsfolk around your area left their place and started moving towards the source of the sound, causing you to do the same. You went over to your father, handing him his cane as you three walked towards the exit of your smithy.

“Oi!! Chris! ____!” A voice called out.

You turn your head to see your friend Siyeon come running towards you. Her steps slowed down to a jog beside you, greeting your father as she did. “What do you think is happening?” She asks you, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I have no idea.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #park seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #prince park seonghwa #prince seonghwa #ateez royalty au #idol fanfic #fantasy au #ateez oneshot #royal au #regiis #fandomsonrequests #bang chan #christopher chan #siyeon #lee siyeon

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littlebitoffanfic · 5 years ago

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An Angel With A White Warg - part 2 - Ember

Fandom: Original Relationship: Maknok/reader (orc/reader) Part one: here

The wind had picked up the second the sun had set, leaving you a shivering mess next to the camp fire. The small bundle on your lap cuddled closer for warmth, a purr vibrating through you and calming you a little. At least you weren’t totally alone. You and the others had been travelling through the thin valley of two mountains. None of you made a sound, afraid of the snow which surrounded you all. The slightest noise could cause an avalanche. You had been trailing behind, as normal when you thought you head something from behind. pausing, you turned and scanned the thin valley for any threat.

----flash back -------- You heard a faint ‘bah’ing noise. It didn’t have the vibrato of a goat and sounded deeper. Frowning, you doubled back on yourself, searching for the creature. Then you saw it. Buried under some snow, barely moving, was a baby dragon. You paused, completely baffled as you quickly looked around. Dragons were rare, and stayed with their mothers until they were nearly fully mature. This one could only be about a year old at more. It looked about a foot long, with an extra half a foot including its tail.

But you saw no mother. You couldn’t let the little one freeze to death, so cautiously approached it. Kneeling down, you scooped snow off its wings first, noticing how the snow had traces of blood in it. And your fingers suddenly tangled in something. Looking closer, there was wire around its right wing. The type of wire that sent a chill through your veins. The type used by poachers. You had had your fair encounter with poachers when Lunar was a pup. But now she was fully grown, most poachers wouldn’t risk their hands with her. You pulled out the small knife from your back pocket, the creature started to struggle. It had been quiet, with small whines up until now. But you had to keep it quiet so you used your left hand to hold its snout closed. You felt the heat building near its nasal passage, but it was too immature to cause anything more than a slight singe to your skin, like sitting a little too close to the fire and the heat builds up. the knife was highly effected with cutting through the biggest section of the wire and, once the little dragon saw you weren’t trying to hurt it, you were able to let go of the snout to cut out its wing properly. The second it was free, it struggled out of the snow and right onto your lap. Its claws clung to your clothes as you got the chance to look at the little creature. It was a nearly jet black, apart from the occasional specks of red through its scales. You wondered how you hadn’t spotted it the first passing, but the rocks around here were all dark so everyone must have thought it was just a rock. It had two back legs with four toes and claws at the end. Its ‘hands’ were at the end of its wings, 3 fingers with claws on the end too. Perfect for climbing and scaling this type of terrain in summer. The dragon climbed up your chest and around your neck. You had your hood up and hair down, so it must have provided warmth for the little one. You cooed it quietly as its face stuck out beside your right cheek. Reaching up, you scratched its snout and it made a purring noise which you felt through your shoulders. “Im not sure if Lunar wants a sibling. But I guess she’s not got a chose.” You whispered fondly to the creature. You looked up ahead, seeing the group hadn’t noticed you weren’t behind anymore. They were far in the distance, nearly close to the opening. Getting up, you put the knife safely in your back pocket again, about to hurry to catch up when voices filled the air from high up in the sides of the mountains. “Wheres the runt? I saw it fall around here.” One voice spoke, probably in a normal voice but the vibrations carried it down the mountain. You felt the little dragon curl into your neck, hissing. “Its mothers dead. No point wasting time looking for it.” Another seemed to shrug off. “No, no, no NO!” You suddenly heard someone yelling. Looking up, you saw an extremely large figure on the edge of the mountain toppling over and falling to the ground. It fell directly between you and the others with a loud thud that you felt send a shockwave through the ground. You froze, unable to breath for two reasons. Firstly, it was the decapitated body of a large, black dragon. Secondly, that was more than enough to cause an avalanche. Looking up, you saw the tops of the mountains start to move. You had to get out of here. Stumbling backwards, you knew there was no chance you’d get to the others. The body of the adult dragon took up all the path and you’d have to climb over it. The snow itself moved deadly fast, and you’d probably not even get to the body before it buried you. No, you turned on your heel and ran for the closest entrance. Your heart was beating so hard in your ears, you barley made out the soft sheiks of the dragon as it clung to your clothes, one of its claws catching your neck, breaking the skin ever so slightly. You heard Keli scream your name, followed by Maknok but you couldn’t look back. The noise was then silenced by the snow fall as it plummeted to the ground. You just managed to get to the entrance when the snow fall stopped. You were extremely lucky since it didn’t seem to have effected outside the valley. Otherwise you could have been in some real trouble. Turning, you sucked in a breath. they valley was now covered in snow which rose up easily an extra 15 foot, probably deeper the deeper into the valley you went. The poachers were surely all dead now, and that poor dragon. You looked at the little creature who was clinging to you for dear life. “Was that your mother?” You asked, knowing it wouldn’t respond yet you already knew the answer. Reaching up, you gently petted the small animal as you started your long trek.

------- present time -------------

There was a plan for this kind of thing, put in place by Sein long ago. If you should ever get cut off in a valley or pathway, you will go around the mountain. The group with the most people will head to the right of the mountain and the lest will head left, hopefully meeting up with them about half way around. You had rolled your eyes the first time he said, but now you were grateful for the plan. unfortunately, night had rolled in fast, and the cold became too much for you so you stopped in a small cave. You built a fire and settled in for the night. Thankfully, it wasn’t snowing. So at least you didn’t have to worry about it getting worse in that regard. The dragon, a small male, had taken to your lap the second you sat down. It refused to leave your side, not even allowing you to put it down to unpack your blankets. It wasn’t heavy at all. You had wore scarves which were heavier than this dragon. You twirled the hand-carved knife in your fingers, smiling. You always took it out when you stopped, in case anything happened while you slept. Maknok made it for you when he first joined. It was his first gift to you, given with a bow. In truth, you had fallen deeply in love with Maknok. It had been 7 months since he had made his little promise, and you could honestly think of nothing better. He was loyal, and fiercely protective of the group, especially you. The others had been wary at first, but grown to like him. They joked that he was your own personal body guard but they always kept a close to eye to make sure he treated you well. But there was never any complaints. He treated you like a queen. Anything he had was yours, and anything he did was for you. If he were here, you would be cuddled into his side. Orcs were naturally a lot warmer than humans, so he was perfect on these cold nights. And yet, despite the nights you spend cuddled into him, or the days were you two took long walks together, he made no move to kiss you or push anything further. He respected your boundaries, never forcing anything but basking in what he did get. Your mind wonders to him. You would bet anything he is arguing with the others right now. They would have set up camp and he would want to keep going through the night to find you. Perhaps, a reunion would be the perfect time for a first kiss? You smiled, but then something caught your ear. Voices. At first, you felt a spark of hope, thinking it was the others. But then you listened as the 2 voices grew louder and you knew it wasn’t them. In fact, one was the voice from the mountain. Shit shit shit. You needed to hid the dragon, but where? He wouldn’t let you put him down, so how could you hide him while standing? Thinking on your feet, you grabbed your thick coat. Opening the hood, you picked the sleepy dragon up and put him inside. Before he could whine or try to crawl out, you pulled the coat on. You grabbed your scarf out of your bag and loosely wrapped it around your neck, then pulled your hair out and over the top. Hopefully that would be enough coverage to hide him. You felt him started to try poke his head under the scarf and out beside your face but he must have heard the voices and quickly retreated. You felt him move around, almost burying into your hood before he stopped moving completely. Just in time. “Hey, you?” A voice called out and you saw the two figures. “you were in the valley.” “yes, I was. Until you caused an avalanche.” You narrowed your eyes as the two stepped into the mouth of the cave. Humans, and rough looking ones at that. “why?” One narrowed its eyes at you. “Why were you in that valley.” “I was traveling with my family. We thought it would be quicker to cut through the mountains, as long as no one made a sound.” You narrowed your own eyes at him. “Until you decided to throw a dragon off the side of the cliff.” “We didn’t throw it. It fell. And I lost a lot of men in that avalanche.” He snapped back at you. “How do you slay a dragon without causing an avalanche? How did you think that would go?” You raised your eyebrows at the men. One, with a large and old scar across its left cheek, smirked. “You kill it in its sleep. Chop its head off. Didn’t expect it to have offspring. Bloody runt flew off but we managed to throw some wire around it. Speaking of which-“ His eyes scanned your camp. “-you didn’t find the animal, did you?” “No, I didn’t find anything.” You shook your head, folding your arms over. “Look, I lost some good men in that avalanche. And we wont be able to get to that body until spring at this rate. So if I take that runt back with me, I’ll make a small profit.” The first spoke, trying to reason with you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. The baby’s probably buried with its mother now, who you so bravely killed in her sleep.” You snap, but noticing the look between them both. “So, you wont mind if we have a little look through your things?” The second with the scar gave you a sickly smile. He took a step forward, but you quickly grabbed the knife from your pocket. but before you could answer, you heard a snarl from behind them. “If you touch a single thing in this cave, I will rip your limbs off.” Maknoks deep voice boomed, speaking with a venom you had only heard rarely as he and Lunar appeared behind the men. Lunar had her fangs bared, her head low and ready to pounce if needed. “Look, we just want what’s ours.” The first man held up his hands, but the second had grabbed his sword from his belt. The first noticed. “Put that away, you idiot.” He hissed. “You own nothing here. Leave.” Maknok growled as Lunar snapped her jaws at the two. The second man seemed to have lost his courage as he stumbled back from the warg. “Alright, alright. We’re going.” The first pushed the other out the right side of the cave, giving the orc and warg a large birth before running into the night. “Maknok!” You smiled, racing forward to him. “[y/n].” He smiled widely as you flung yourself into his open arms. You cuddled into his chest, smiling like an idiot as tears filled your eyes. Lunar nuzzled her head against your side, so your reach down with one hand and pet her head. She seems to get a smell, as she leaves to go sniff around the fire and in your things. “Im so happy to see you.” You whispered, pulling back to look up at him. his large hand reached up, cupping your cheek to use his thumb to wipe away the tears. You smile, leaning into his touch as your heart swelled. His hand slipped around the back of your head into your hair as his other hand rested on hip. Your breath caught in your throat as you placed your hands on his chest, gripping the fabric. You were about to go up on your tip toes and pull him down, ready to kiss him for the first time. But just as you were about to do so, he suddenly stumbled back, shaking the hand which had been in your hair with a growl. “Something bite me.” He examines his hand, but thankfully there was no blood. “oh, um, funny story.” You move from foot to foot as you suddenly remembered the weight in your hood. Lunar followed her nose right up to your side. She went up on her back legs, her front paws pressed on your lower back to balance herself as she sniffed around your hood before sneezing and racing to stand behind Maknok. You felt the dragon coming out of your hood. He crawled up over the scarf but under your hair as he popped his head out from the right of your head. “[y/n].” Maknok stated your name, as you turned your head to the little creature. “Is that the dragon they were looking for?” “Maybe.” You pressed your lips together, pretending to preoccupied with the dragon. “The dragon they were about to tear apart your camp to look for?” He stepped closer and you could feel his gaze on you like fire. “Perhaps.” You bite your lower lip under the interrogation. “[y/n], they were poachers. If they found out that you were hiding that thing, they would have killed you.” Maknok gestured to the creature on your shoulder as his voice filled with worry. “well, they didn’t find out.” You shrug, looking back at him. You could see the worry in his eyes as he stared at the creature. “They killed his mother, Maknok.” Maknoks gaze shifted to you and instantly softened. Lunar let out a soft growl but he put his hand on her head, a silent sign to relax. “You could have gotten yourself killed. And for what? An animal?” He tries to reason with you, and you did understand. If he hadn’t turned up, you would surely have been punished for hiding the dragon. But you wouldn’t be swayed. “No, I was helping a creature that needed me. You should know that.” You raised an eyebrow at him. You hated to play such a card, but it was the only way you could think to get him to understand why you had risked your life. Again. Maknok let out a sigh of defeat as he rubbed his face. His attention shifted back to the dragon before cautiously approaching. “What have you called it?” Maknok asks as he raises a hand up to the dragon, faulter for a moment before allowing the dragon to sniff the loose fist. “He doesn’t have a name, yet.” You look to the creature as he inspects the hand. He nuzzled against Maknoks knuckles before managing to persuade Moknok to open his palm after pushing his head into the small gap between his thumb and fingers. Once the dragon seemed to realise the warmth of Maknok, he purred and, quick as a flash, left your hood completely to run up Maknoks arm and drape himself over the surprised orcs neck. Maknok stumbled back, his eyes wide at the creatures sudden movement. But you manged to reach out and grab his hands, steadying him. When he felt the small creature nuzzling against his neck, he calmed significantly. Pulling him to the campfire, you both sat by the cave walls. Maknok refused to move his face, neck or shoulders, so looked rather funny as he tried to side down in the stiff position. When you sat, Lunar came up and sat beside you. She started to nuzzle her snout around your neck before laying her head on your lap and doing the same. You couldn’t help but giggle, knowing she was putting her scent back on you. She had done so the first few times Maknok had slept beside you. Once she was use to the dragons scent, she wouldn’t be so jealous. “What happened to the others?” You ask, looking at maknok as you moved Lunar off of you so you could grab your bag and blankets from closer to the fire. “They needed to stop for the night. But I couldn’t leave you alone out here. Lunar wouldn’t stop growling and pacing either. So we kept going.” Maknok told you as you moved the blanket across you both. The dragon moved for the first time from around Maknoks neck to crawl down into his lap, circling around a few times before falling with a purr. “I think he likes you.” You giggle, reaching out and petting the dragons head and down its back. “Have you thought of a name?” maknok asks you, turning his head to face you. “No, not yet. I was thinking something like Blaze but not so much on the nose, you know?” You shrug. “Ember.” Maknok suddenly says, brushing the dragons tail with the back of his fingers. You paused, not quiet sure what he had said until it set in. Ember, like the end of a fire. Black with small flecks of fire. “I love it.” You beamed. “Its perfect!” You could see the pride in his eyes as Maknok smiled down at the small creature, at Ember, then looks back to you. You could see the love in his eyes when they met your own. He adored you. Turning so you were kneeling by his side, you reach up and cup his cheek. Leaning forward, you paused an inch from his lips, your nose knocking against his own lightly, playfully. A groan left Maknoks chest before he closed the distance. One hand reach up and ran through your hair to the back of your head, while the other pulled you closer. You reached up, running your fingers over his cheek, down his throat and chest then back up again. Maknok moaned into the kiss, making you smile against his lips. He kept your mouth on his own, to the point that when you didn’t pull back, you were gasping for breath. Your cheeks were bright red as your heart raced because of the kiss. you glanced up at Maknok, seeing him smiling softly at you. His smile was infectious as you felt it pull at your own lips. Sitting back by his side, you felt his arm loop around your waist and pull you close. You draped your arm over his stomach, burying your face in his neck and feeling him chuckle. “are you tired?” Maknok asked, ducking his head down to look at you. “Not really. Besides, one of us should stay up in case those hunters come back. They said they cut the mother dragons head off while she slept.” You pulled back, looking down at Ember when you heard a growl from Maknok. “They aren’t hunters. They’re cowards.” He shook his head and let out a sigh as he tried to calm himself. “So that’s what fell in the valley? The dragons body.” You nodded. Of course he would have been too far away to see what the large thing was. The image of the headless creature still fresh in your mind. “Yes. I stopped because I heard this little one whining. He had escaped but they threw wire and it caught his wing. He was buried in the snow. I think that’s why he likes you. You’re so warm.” You smile, lifting the tension as you lay your cheek on his broad chest. You hear him chuckle, making you smile. You felt a weigh across your lap, looking to see Lunar had lay her head on you again. Only, she was much further forward than before, so her neck was more on your lap and her snout reached across and was inches from Ember. She let out a soft huff, waking the dozing dragon with the small puff of air. When Ember sat up a little, Lunar growled. You were about to intervein, when Ember crawled up and onto the top of Lunars snout, flopping there and draping his wings either side. you had to cover your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. You didn’t know if Ember was mimicking what you had down when he was in the mountains or if he somehow thought that was a good idea. Lunar shook her head, easily dismounting the dragon as she sat up, huffing indignantly. Ember, apparently a dragon that doesn’t take no for an answer, crawled out of Maknoks lap, across your own and to Lunar. She sat still, her eyes watching carefully as the dragon flaps his wings, managing to get a little air, enough for him to land on her back. Lunars head snapped to you, so you reached up and gently stroked her snout, calming her but keeping an eye on Ember. He was lucky that she was so good, otherwise he would have been a chew toy by now. Ember curled up in her fur, finding a comfortable position again before lying down. Lunar let out a soft whine and turned her head. You felt your heart jump into your throat when you saw her open her jaws and take the dragon in them. But your fears subsided when Lunar turns back, showing that she was only lightly gripping the dragon to move him. Like a lioness would do when moving her cubs. She lay back down before dropping the dragon back in your lap. Ember whined but she lies back down with her head over your lap, right beside Ember. He looks expectantly at Maknok, who chuckles and rests his hand on your thigh so that Ember can still feel his head. Ember lets out a cheerful purr before curling up and settling down, his eyes closed. Lunars looks at you, so you gently stroke her neck, smiling at her. Happy with this, her eyes close and she lets out a soft huff of air. Next time you were in a town, you would get her a whole chicken for her to eat for this. “Thank you.” You look at Maknok who frowns in confusion. “For coming to find me.” “There was never a question.” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t leaving you.” “Good thing you came. I get in trouble a lot of the time.” You giggle. “Are you willing to put up with someone who seems to always find danger.” “I think danger finds you.” He smiles fondly. “But I think I know why.” “Why?” You ask, genuinely curious as to his thoughts. “You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. I think the gods know you’re too kind hearted so they send trouble your way.” He looks out the front of the cave into the darkness. “Then the gods sent me you.” You smiled, drawing his attention back as he laughed so loud he woke the two sleeping animals who glared at him before falling back asleep. “I am barely a gift. Just a scarred up orc following behind the angel who saved me.” Maknok smiled slightly. “you know, you are free. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Ive already told you that you owe me nothing.” You reached out, taking his other hand that was on his lap as the guilt filled you. “After a kiss like that? No, I am afraid you aren’t getting rid of me.” He chuckles, looking at you with a slight blush to his cheeks. “As long as you want me, I’m yours completely.” You duck your head, smiling as the blush spread across your cheeks. “It was a good kiss.” You giggle, feeling your heart racing. “another would be nice.” You look up at him, unsure if your request was too much. “My pleasure.” He leans forward and kisses you. It felt like he had a little more confidence than before as his lips moved against your own and seemed to dominate the kiss more than before. You let out a soft moan, so wrapped in the kiss that when he pulled back you were dazed. Despite wanting more, a lot more, the weight on your lap told you that if you moved again, they would be annoyed, so you gently kissed his tusk before, cuddling into his side again. You both talked long into the night till morning. You said that you’d write to the lord of the land, an animal lover, about the dragon corpse in the valley. He would probably want those responsible apprehended. In fact, he would end up setting up guards when spring nears to catch whoever came back for the body. He wondered how big Ember would get, but male dragons were normally smaller than female ones in this area, so you hazard a guess what he would be slightly bigger than Lunar, judging by the mothers size. In the morning, you all set out to meet up with the others. Ember took the change to fly every now and then. When he got bored of traveling around your neck, he would fly to Maknoks shoulder, then to Lunars back. You laughed every time he moved around. But when he wasn’t on you or Maknok, the orc would take the chance to kiss you, leaving you a blushing mess. You honestly couldn’t wait for Ember to meet the others. Although you had a feeling there would a couple of eyerolls. But you were sure what Maknok had said was right. Danger did find you, but at least you had him.

#orc x reader #monster x reader #male orc x female reader

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