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nerdgal27 · 2 months ago

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A Story Behind the Painting

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Summary:

Part 4 of (Mikey and Me Part 3), (It Happened Again Part 2), and (Don't Want to Talk Part 1). Struggle after struggle. There comes a time when the inner demon destroys so much, that one doesn't know what else to do. Other than keep the inner demon from loved ones.

Tags: Substance Abuse, Depression, Flashbacks, and Abuse.

Home

Sunshine dapples the deep green forest. Burn the late morning dew glittering jewels in mid air. Coffee mug in hand black liquid slosh onto cold fingers as I wobble down the tiny staircase of the camper pickup truck. An old rust bucket is the last bit of my savings can afford.

Sit on a lazy afternoon in a cozy chair. Stare at the endless view of evergreen pines and misty gray mountains is worth it all. Take in the cool sweet wood scent of green fill sore lungs. Swivel chair further away from an old gravel path. Wind over the lush undergrowth. Where customary rodents cover last night's tracks. Eat the empty nut shells and left over trail mix I left for them. Can’t stomach to eat anything again. What’s the point now?

Shield away by Mother Nature’s warmth and green walls. Her sweet melody chirps and whispers in the silence. The sticky sun glues me under the camper cobweb awning. Spiders big enough to play the banjo. Thought grows a chuckle to who said that once. Forever gone away in the forever distance. All for the best. For everyone. For them most of all.

Free from pain, from it all. It has been done. No need to know the outside world. Can almost imagine it all. Not now. No need to think about any of that at all. Other than wonder how hot this coffee is for me to sip.

Deep rich aroma takes me away from the pines. Old giggles bounce from concrete walls. Sparks spray in all directions mingles the smell with old metal. When muddle hands rub black grease over my eyebrow. Old scooter parts vomit all over the floor. A victim to be torn apart, rebuilt to either drive faster. Or explode.

Phone rings memories back to green and soft blue reality. Muffle in the far depths of the 1967 brown and green camper. Can’t be right, I shut it off last night.

Crawl back into the sauna brown dungeon. Follow the ringtone to the front. Weave over the hot tea water bottles on the fuzzy floor. Brush last night’s debris aside in the trap of doom between the front seat. Bright pink old life shivers in a frenzy.

I shouldn’t turn the phone over to see the screen. This needs to be my new life now. Can’t go back anyways. How can I like this? How can anyone? Doing this for them. An glove box that only opens and closes by a swift kick is a good place to bury it all away. Turn off all of the past in orange velvet darkness. Leave it all tucked away. Return to the fresh sirene new life.

Canadian geese honk over the tall tree peaks. The way the flock swoops down a long terrain down from blue skies and feather clouds. Sunrays beam grasshopper hisses mid day summer heat. Follow the distant honks and splash. A cool lake lap over dry cracked feet sounds perfect. Clear this heavy head of mine.

Wander back inside. Cool worn out duds for lake water. Cold beer in hand, tuck comfy chair under my arm. A handful of fluorescent pink tags roll in hand. Nice way to return to my new home without getting lost. Wait for another set of geese to flutter above. Lead the way out of the hot sun. Weave between the trees. Step over tree root monsters. Smile at the odd bird or animal hops by.

“We don’t keep secrets, right?”

I whisper to the memories. “No, you don’t.”

Another voice in the dream rasp. “He still loves you.”

He shouldn’t, neither should any of you. Too broken, not enough. Difficult.

Out here. All are no different than any woodland creatures from the largest moose to the small voles scurry by. What is worse, to remember the words. Or the subtle silence of the first night when all of this began. A sink full of awful empty decisions. The oldest brother’s quiet gaze. Patterns flourish in the forest around me. Bright shapes shimmer all that is long gone behind me. Nothing wrong with a cold one in hand on a hot day.

Besides, take in all of this. A wide dark turquoise green lake. Full of life. A single loon lone coo along with the tiny dots of geese in the water. Soft gentle slopes into sand and clay. Show evidence of deer were here moments ago.

He misses you that’s all

One’s voice. Does he?… Of course he does. How could he not? Everyone else knows.

Sit down in the chair. Set down the last 3 cans of a 6 pack. Miraculous 3 survivors of a drunk blackout yesterday. Crack open heaven. Slide it down the fire throat. Feel it burn over it all. Take in this brand new peaceful life of quiet. Should bring out a couple fishing poles for tonight. If I remember to come back for them. Can’t go back to anything nowadays.

When will I see you?

My old self. When my voice had more life.

Soon, Sweetheart, it will be like old times.

There’s a reason why they are called old times. It was a good life. A loud life, somewhat chaotic. The endless laughs, pile ons, pushing around. Plastic cockroaches in cupboards, glitter in ninja smoke bombs. One time Mikey and I replaced Raphael’s shower gel for blue dye. Guy was a grumpy Smurf for 4 days. His grouchy growls. The wooden spoon in papa turtle Smurf’s hand. Mikey ran for his life. I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. Wash over the more recent screams and pushes away. Even more of the dark and bleek.

When closet doors rattle. Whisky bottles smash in the far distance-

No. Not again. Never speak of it again. None of that ever happened.

Water swishes numb ankles. Whirl to baby ducks splash nearby. Over work, Mother of 6 squacks her children to behave and paddle behind her. Chuckles at their little feet blur under the clear water. Match the same speed of their cotton ball wings. Can remember when Mikey used to run the same way. Anytime Donnie chases Mikey out of his lab. Sometimes so then Donnie and I could play science and pupil again.

Water waves between my toes. Shallow parts warm from the sun. Heat numb limbs. Swallow back to boiling hot water. Scorch delicate young skin.

Mommy it’s too hot.

No…stop

Screams echo. Blister scar. Bare to the summer heat. Every single one remembers every pain. Why did I wear this tank top? Why am I out here? Can’t stay.

Hands stick on to lawn chair. Water waves slosh against the sandy ridge. Small legs kick. Hot water splashes everywhere. Hands shove deep under water.

Sweetheart, breathe…

Violet voice whispers. Take his invisible hands. Squeeze them. The way he told me to. No thumb rubs my hands. Take in all of the cool fresh pine. Have to get used to this alone. Least this way is the best. No one’s burden any more. Can pick up this lawn chair anytime.

Wander back the pink flag trail. Lose myself to millions of songs birds and butterflies flutter by. Brush soft long grass under fingers as I go. Crisp fresh air. Think about what bait to use for food tonight. Another thing I will have to start getting used to.

Yellow happy face atena swings in between shrubs. Wave me down the direction home. Swig the last bit of powerful robust dark beer. Ignite pain away in a smooth burn. Drown darkness where they belong.

Soft breeze hushes the forest buzz. Breathe in strong bitter fuel knocks the taste of beer. Great animal growls a deep hungry growl. Take me back to a cool violet room. To a lab chair and elastic bands for hair tying.

“Sweetheart!?”

Old life hollars me dead frozen in the tall grass. Hidden behind thick honeysuckles. The low hanging tree branches block the meadow opening of my new home. Don’t need to see how close the voice is. Can hear his feet crunch back and forth in the gravel. Rusty truck doors whine open and slam shut. Yellow smiley atena whirs in a hyperactive spaz. Empty cans clang on the far away floor board. Fast in a frantic, more than the time he caught Mikey in his mutagen supply.

Footsteps wobble in the far depths of camper sweet camper. No.

He can’t be here. No one can find me like this. I did this for them. They need to stay away from me. Far from any ear shot here. Can drop everything and run. Spin to do so. Lungs leap to jump for the hot pink trail back to the lake.

Get back here!

Hot greasy hand clap thunder. Drop the entire lazy afternoon supply. Oh crap no! Don’t drop them.

Metal chair legs clang against beer cans.

Shallow gasp in the wind. Pushes me faster down the trail. Teenage bare feet pound thistles and burrs I weaved around before.

Child bare feet blur down a hallway. Slam the bedroom door shut.

“Tessie, wait!”

Oh shit! Dammit! All the curse words Mikey should never hear. He found me. Faster down the hill. Over the log. Reach for the ridge. Follow the open blue sky between the evergreen trunks.

Slip under fast large hands. Hardwood scraps small bare knees. Away from him. Away from the man. Go go go.

Feet hush to the quiet breeze and soft rainfall of leaves. The broken footpath behind me, bare. Maybe turned back to the shellraiser for something. No matter. Least I can slow down, and lungs can breathe.

Leaves rustle ahead. Green blur drops from above. Dead in his tracks. The tall slender turtle raises his hands and snatches me. Should have known. Been raised by ninjas for Pete sake.

Jerk arms in his grip. Swallow the rock down.

“Donnie, what are you doing here? Let me go.”

Sink away from his gaze. Loosen his grip to one hand on my arm.

He pants, “I’m not here to fight, and I should be the one asking you the same question.”

Rip his hand off me. No point in running. His long legs follow behind down the path. As I pick up the lawn chair.

“No phone call, no note, do you know what I found in that camper?” His feet pound behind.

Pick up what’s left of the 6 pack. Dangle the last 2 cans yet to be drank. No point in hiding it now. Plus he said he’s not here to fight. There’s no need to answer. Lanky green hands rip the plastic rings.

“Hey!”

Whirl back to the two cans soar into the forest. Shove Donnie back.

“What the hell was that for? That stuff ain’t cheap.”

He towers over me. Loom a dark shadow over. Calm eyes narrow into deep violet slits. Deepens his sharp tongue.

“Do you know how long I drove to find you,

How long we’ve been looking for you?”

Step out of his shadow. Continue down the path into the sunlight. Home sweet home lies ahead.

Shrug as I go, “You didn’t have to. Just decided to take a trip, that's all, what’s wrong with that?”

Old life lingers in the shadows. Listen to teeth grit splinters. Boy did he skip coffee? Why is he hear anyway. Everyone knows so what’s the point?

Set the lawn chair back under the shade of a hunter's green awning. Since Mr. Grumpy in the corner threw a good set of cans. Guess I’ll have to get more. Crawl back inside the brown velvet coffin. Weave over the thrown cans on the floor. Guess I’ll have to clean this soon. The camper door slams shut.

“I wouldn’t shut that, unless you want to melt.” I speak to the ghost by the door.

Silence. Gonna be civil now. Want to burn holes through my head? Go on, do it. Everyone else is gone, why should anything matter. Open the mini fridge. To an endless supply of bottles, cans, and what I forgot most. Leaps off the shelves, plop to the fuzzy floor.

Oh shit.

“…what is that?”

He’s the brainiac and yet he’s asking me? Should be pretty obvious by the label. Let his long legs weave around me. Take a bag from the fridge. I Crack open a cold one. Fire burns down all those dark heavy nights. Think back to all of the colorful waves last night.

“…T-this…”

Leave him in the camper. Let him figure it out himself. Wasn’t supposed to be here to begin with. Might as well read what brand I use, for what? Who knows.

Set the can in the lawn chair. Camper door shuts, no slam? Weird. Shouldn’t he be furious or something?

Been standing there for a while. Turn to him at the metal steps. Shaded from the hot sun. Bag shivers in between his fingers. Lost to the horizon. That I’ve seen thousands of times in his brown eyes. His internal gears whir. He never looks like this unless…

“You do know, right?”

Silence answers. The deep rise and fall of his chest. He sinks down to the flatten tall grass. Let the bag fall between his fingers. A look I make when I wake up from a nightmare. Before I would run straight to his bedroom.

Set the can away. How? What?!

Rise up from the old seat. I ask, “The guys never told you?”

Rise from his palms, bambi eyes round wide, “They know about this?!”

“Well…yeah”-

“How long?” He mutters, waiting for an answer, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Take a step away from his ember coals glow. Shrug an answer, “I thought you knew, how can everyone else know but you Donnie, you know every inch of the city.”

“How was I supposed to know?” He shoots from the ground. Bury me in his height, “You never call or text me anymore, and then leave the city to who knows where, does Mikey know?!”

Mikey. Golden sun, white dust particles float over the sweet turtle. Bath in old and new sunlight. Breathe that old dry air of that lazy morning.

Nod in silence. Hoarse throat stops all words Heavy numb limbs drag back inside the brown coffin. Large queen size mattress at the back. Warm by the sun. Shut all of the curtains away. Curl all away in a ball. Close away from all life. This is not what is supposed to happen.

“Sweetheart?” Footsteps wobble the camper.

No answer. Feel the camper sink down with him. Warmth touches my arch back, soft thumb rubs me to the old cool lab. All those years ago.

“What are your plans for being out here?” He whispers.

No, he already knows now. He can’t know about this too. It will crush him. Shiver under his soft palm. There’s no going back. I’ve made this decision. Already caused enough problems as it is. First Leo. How it all turned Raph down into this dark hole. Times I’ve picked him up because of what I’ve done. Tried to fix it all for Mikey. Tried to be happy for Mikey. Yet…I am here. This is what I deserve. Donnie shouldn’t even be here. Why is he still here?

Weight shifts the mattress. Warmth drapes behind all along against me. His long arm slides around me. Pull me back tight against his beating heart. Donnie’s muzzle nestles deep into my shoulder. It doesn't take much for him to know.

Brush back strands from my cheek.

He whispers, “You don’t deserve to go through this alone.”

Roll in his arms. Drown myself into this chest I’ve missed so much all night long. Muzzle in his sweet scent and warmth. Squeeze all pain in his tight arms.

I shake, “I-I Don’t kn-know… if I can go back, big brother, I-I’m too broken. No one should be stuck with me”-

Soft lips plant firm silence my heavy forehead.

“You are never too broken, it’s okay to have space for a while when you need it.” His deep voice murmurs in my ear.

Cling on to his belt. The same way when I was small. Take me back to the memories. Away from all of this. Let all of the pain drip onto his chest. Choke on my words.

As my brainiac brother traces slow circles on my back. Sweet rich coffee fills my world. Over the fresh pine. More warm than the summer hot sun. A soft sigh quells more than the lone loon. I am back home. This is home. Safe. Can hide here as long as I need.

He whispers, “I will stay for as long as you need me, little pupil.”

Bit through all the painful tears to fall. That roll down my brother’s chest. Yesterday I was in darkness. Tomorrow, who knows where I will be. For now I am with Donatello. My close friend, my big brother.

I am home.

#tmnt #tmnt fan art #tmnt fanfiction #2012 Donatello #2012 Donnie #2012 tmnt #depression

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echantedtoon · 7 months ago

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Caring

Being a single Father isn't an easy feat especially if you were always busy trying not to fall for who essentially was their babysitter. Yoriichi patiently watches as his brother falls for his coworker.

(This is just gonna be a Oneshot so it's not gonna be really long or detailed. Gonna be mostly from Yoriichi's pov and going on the fact I think Yoriichi is a daycare worker in Kimetsu Gauken.)

@thotfulwriter

@lavenderdrxp

The day was beautiful.

With the sunlight sinking into the room through the window. The birds singing outside. Beautiful fresh smelling air. Beautiful visions of nature right outside of you looked. A bright blue sky. Fluffy white clouds. Yellow sun. Flowers of every color. Green plants everywhere. Trees providing shade as the wind rolled by. A little blue pond in the distance full of fish.

Yes.

An absolute picture perfect scene for what could very much be a good day. Nothing in the world to worry about. Nothing to do. Just peaceful quiet and nature- A shriek loud enough to make him wince from the high volume pierced the peaceful silence and made him give a sigh. Here we go again. He was used to this by now. That's why he wasn't phased when a tiny waddling and wailing mess all but latched onto his leg and he turned to look down at the sobbing girl clinging to himself. She wasn't older than two maybe three years old.

"TOOK TEDDY!!," was all she wailed as she broke down into incoherent sobs and shrieks again.

A hand pointing at the culprit revealed him to be a boy around the same age as the shrieking girl and pouting at her. In his arms was the for mentioned 'Teddy'. A cute stuffed brown bear with a blue ribbon tied around his neck. Oh no. Not again. By now other workers in their signature pink aprons stopped what they were doing to look over. Little kids of all kinds stopped playing with blocks and coloring on paper to also look at the sight.

With a sigh he turned and half limped with the sobbing girl still still on his leg. "Akira, this is the fourth time this week you took someone's toy. You know taking things that don't belong to you is bad." He calmly held out his hands. "Give me Teddy and apologize."

It went about as well as he expected. Instead of just giving him the bear Akira pouted hard and held the bear up and away from him. "NO! MINE!" He didn't even get any time to pause when the bear was joined from his hands and up into an adult's arms. Akira blinked before looking up and screaming. "NO!! MIIIINE!!" He jumped up against the worker's legs holding up his hands. "IT'S MINE!! IT'S MINE!! GIVE BACK!!"

"No, Akira. You can't just take other kids stuff. You aren't getting the teddy bear," the worker spoke her face form. "What you ARE getting is a time out for an hour and I'm telling your parents when they get here."

"NNNNNOOOOO!!!" THUD- Both watched as the toddler proceeded to throw himself onto the ground in a tantrum and proceeded to cry. "AÀAAAAHHHH!!"

...She sighed before smiling at him and offering up the teddy bear. "Tough day, Yoriichi?"

"No tougher than yours." The teddy was taken and handed over back to the little girl who had stopped crying by now. She clutched her bear in her arms as Akira proceeded his tantrum fit on the floor. "How are things in the infant nursery? I hope my niece isn't giving you too much trouble. My brother said she can be rather fussy."

"Luna is perfectly fine!," she confirmed with a smile. "She has quite an appetite though." She reached down and in one swoop scooped up the still crying child in her arms. "I'll just drop him off in time out corner and get back to the nursery before anyone wakes up."

"Alright, Y/n. Be sure to take your lunch break."

She smiled at him. "I will. Oh. Um..By the way, will your brother or his nanny be coming to pick up the children?" She shuffled nervously on her feet not thinking he noticed.

Oh but he absolutely DID notice.

"Michikatsu is wrapping up an important meeting with some investors for his boss's new property turnover project, so he'll be here when the day is done."

She smiled brightly and he didn't miss it. "Thanks. I'll make sure Luna's ready by then."

He didn't say anything else as she walked away with a skip in her step despite the crying toddler in her arms. Maybe it was just him being very perceptive but they weren't doing a good job of hiding their totally not so secret relationship from him. Who's relationship?

Y/n's and his brother's of course.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. It started about a year ago now. After almost three years of marriage his brother and his wife had gotten a divorce while she was pregnant with their second child. Now he wasn't one to judge especially since he himself couldn't be in Michikatsu's shoes to know exactly what he went through personally with his with, but he knew the entire marriage was a bad idea from the start. So did their mother. But of course their father and the ex's parents would hear none of it and now three years of regret and disdain between the two of them....

Well his father really shouldn't have been surprised by his oldest son's divorce. But he was even more surprised when he learnt it was Michikatsu's wife who slapped his poor brother with the divorce papers out of nowhere, took half his bank account, and completely abandoned their children with him. His brother really wasn't someone who showed emotion a lot, but he could literally see the frowns when his wife passive aggressively insulted him during family dinners, or how exhausted he looked when he and Uta visited with his son refusing to sleep. His wife just refusing to help with anything. Or when he was yelling angrily over the phone at either lawyers or at the ex herself after he found most of his savings drained. He had been very stressed throughout the entire process.

However he did look somewhat relieved when it was all over.

It was around this time he started just dropping his son off at the daycare he worked at between the time the nanny worked her shifts and his own work that he met his coworker. He still remembered that very day. It was a Tuesday. Evening just came with the sun a few hours from setting. Michikatsu was running a little late because of a court meeting discussing the custody arrangement of their toddler son and their infant daughter who hadn't been born just yet-

He looked up from wiping down a table from a particularly messy finger painting session that day when the front door of the building opened and he automatically stopped what he was doing to see who it was. A parent most likely here to pick up their child. However when he stepped into the lobby, he found another man who looked almost exactly like him.

"Aniue! How good it is to see you again!," he greeted with a smile. "Did you have a good drive over?"

Michikatsu frowned from behind those glasses he always wore. He thought he looked rather silly wearing sunglasses with such a high end suit all the time. "Just nice. You know what I'm here for. Where is he?"

As if to answer his own father- "Daddy!"

Ah. Right on time. That's when the fateful meeting happened. Y/n had appeared, walking in with the black haired three year old toddler on her hip and smiling like a ball of sunshine. Michikatsu had frozen where he stood. His body stiffened. Which he didn't pay any mind to at first only smiling at his coworker.

"Ah. There you are Y/n. Right on time. I don't think you've met Tsukiko's father." He gestures towards his oddly silent twin with a small smile. "Michikatsu, this is Y/n! She just started working here and we've been introducing her to all the parents. She'll be working the infantry wing with Uta soon."

She smiled brightly bouncing the giggling toddler at her hip. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You're son is just adorable! Such a sweetheart."

.... Yoriichi blinked and turned in question as his brother didn't say anything. Just stare at his coworker with a blank stare. "..Is that so?" He eventually slowly said before stiffly holding his arms out to the toddler. Automatically the boy reached with his arms out to be taken into his arms. "He is progressing well then."

Y/n nodded. "Yes. It was nice meeting you but I better go help Ms. Uta finish cleaning up for tomorrow." With that she gave a bow to him and walked away.

His brother followed her form with his head until she disappeared from sight. Interesting. "Isn't she nice? Y/N'S going to be an excellent addition to the team! She's great with the children and they all seem to really love her!"

"....I see. I'll be taking my leave. Expect Tsukiko tomorrow."

That was the start of it all. Sometimes he'd come back to Y/n handling the children's send off. Sometimes he wouldn't. But the same reaction would happen every time. He'd silently start as she bubbly spoke before just taking his son without much words. It was strange but then again his brother usually didn't surround himself but energetic women outside their mother and he was adjusting under a lot of stress. He wouldn't fault him for his reactions to her.

It wasn't really a month before his second child was born that really opened his eyes to his brother's too feelings.

And it wasn't really too different than any other day Michikatsu or his nanny picked up his son. Y/n hadn't yet been put in full infantry care yet as she was slowly getting used to the place. She smiled and held his little nephews hand before he went running to hug his father's legs as soon as he walked in through the door.

"Mr. Tsugikuni. How nice to see you again!," she greeted warmly, "Tsukiko told me all about his trip to the zoo. That must've been a fun experience."

Again he didn't say much. Only staring at her. "....Did you dye the ends of your hair?"

She blinked taken aback before smiling again. "Oh this?" She asked reaching up to twirl the ends of a magenta pink strand. "I have a girl here who loves pink but she's always misbehaving. I told her if she was good for a whole month I'd dye my hair her favorite color."

"And..that worked?"

"As silly as it sounds! I can-"

"You look nice."

She blinked taken off guard. "What?"

"Your hair." He was as taken off guard as she was when he reached out to remove his glasses from his face. Revealing his darkened pomegranate eyes to her. "It..It looks nice."

There was silence for a moment as they both stared-

"Daddy thinks you're really pretty!" All at once it was like the life drained from his face as she turned to his little son holding onto his pants leg. "He talks about you a lot to himself at home."

Y/n blinked before smiling at him then at the frozen man. "Is that so?'

Tsukiko nodded. "Uh huh. He thinks your smile is nice and you're pwetty and nice and your purp-fume smells nice and- HEY!!"

Yoriichi never thought he could ever laugh at his brother. Buuuut when you see your brother pick up his son and shove him under one arm like a football before speed walking away-..Well.

"Mr. Tsugikuni! Thank you! I think your eyes look pretty too!"

Michikatsu increased his pace practically shoving his way out the door- Let's just say he had a good chuckle in the break room and for the next few days it was the nanny who picked up hos son. It was finally during that time it had hit him. Oh...Oh. OH!! So THAT'S what was going on! Alright. He understood now.

Soon after his niece was born. Oh Luna was such a sweet beautiful baby. He adored her! His brother did too. It wasn't too long after a few months that she also started attending the daycare with her brother. He won't lie seeing his brother walking around constantly with a sleeping newborn strapped to his chest and a giggling newborn on his hip at family dinners did add a certain domestic charm to him. A family man he thinks the term is. But knowing his brother he'd just continue to act awkward around his coworker....

Unless-

"What's this?" Michikatsu stared at the piece of paper in his hand. A line of numbers scribbled across it's surface.

"Y/N'S number." His brother snapped to him so fast with narrowed eyes he might've had whiplash. "It's for emergencies." It wasn't for emergencies- He held up a hand. "All the parents were given the staff's numbers." Not a lie but only Michikatsu had Y/N'S specific number. "It's just in case I or Uta aren't there and you need to inform the daycare of anything important. It's just protocol." It really wasn't...But it would be for a greater cause.

His brother still looked at him in suspicion but relaxed somewhat with the reasonable answer and Yoriichi's perfect poker face. "Why do I need her number when I can just call the daycare's listed number?"

"It's just in case of emergencies like I said. Everyone was given the staff's numbers. Y/n is new so I'm just updating all the parents." A lie-

His twin seemed to buy it however and reluctantly accepted the paper from him. Now all he had to do was wait. And he didn't have to wait long. Oh maybe a month or two later when Luna was around five months old. He was surprised when his brother came strolling in with a large baby bag slung over his shoulders when he came waltzing in baby strapped onto his shoulder, toddler on one hip-..

And a bouquet of roses in his free arm??

He was surprised obviously but didn't show it when greeting his brother. "Michi! You look better than the last time I saw you. Why the bag? You know we have everything we need here."

"I need you to watch the children tonight for me." Michikatsu ignored anything his brother said only tilting sideways and shoveling his son into his arms before sliding the bag off his shoulder and lifting it up to drop around Yoriichi's head who blinked. "I have..a very important meeting with my CEO that I cannot reschedule for anything else and my usual nanny is sick."

Yoriichi blinked staring at him for a moment as Michikatsu was already struggling to undo the baby harness from his chest with one hand as Luna gurgled and kicked out randomly. "I can do that. ..May I ask why you have-"

"They're for Mother." He bluntly looked at him. "I'll pick them up at ten tonight. Does that work for you?"

"..Yes."

He didn't want to assume anything about his brother's business. After all it wasn't unheard of for him to get their mother flowers every so often. However if a certain coworker of his happens to arrive to work carry the same-...An IDENTICAL bouquet of roses then he might be able to at least make a guess. He was just mopping the floors by the front door when Y/n came walking in with a big smile and a bouquet of roses the same size and arrangement as the ones his brother had been holding not too long ago. Her face flushed a pink and her usual bright smile extra happy.

"Yoriichi could you cover my late shift tonight? I'm going out."

He slowly nodded. "Sure. Those are some beautiful flowers." He complimented tilting his head at her. "Where did you get them?"

"Your brother gave them to me." She gushed a hand on her cheek. "Isn't that wonderful? He asked me to go with him to this fancy restaurant I could even dream of affording! He's so sweet."

Cupid. Arrow. And bullseye on Michikatsu's heart.

Neither had really said much since that day, but the longing glances. The smiles. The stern looks Michikatsu would give him if he stared too long. It was very obvious of what was happening. For now he would not take anymore steps to bring them together and he wouldn't say anything about them until his brother was ready to tell everyone. But for now he was just happy his Aniue was happy.

#kimetsu gakuen #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #Kny #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo demon slayer #kny kokushibo #kokushibo #kokushibou #kokushibo x you #kokushibo x y/n #demon slayer michikatsu #michikatsu x reader #michikatsu #kny michikatsu #michikatsu tsugikuni #michikatsu x y/n #kny yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni

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aurathian · 9 months ago

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Rumors

AO3 | Written for the @zelinkcommunity Loftwing Letters gift exchange! I hope you enjoy @skyyknights !! This also fulfills @zelinktines24 prompt #14: “rumors” :) If you enjoy, please reblog! <3

Fandom: Skyward Sword

Rating: G

Ships: Link/Zelda

Description: There’s a rumor going around that Link and Zelda are in love.

Read the full fic below or read it on AO3.

Days on the surface were busy. From dawn, Link and Zelda were up collecting wood, fetching water, and making multiple rounds of the settlement to see who needed help. By dusk, they were helping cook meals, store equipment, and make sure all were safe to sleep. Their only respite was their one-room cottage, tucked a short walk away from the settlement, where at night they shared stories about the day and plans for the tomorrows they once never thought they would have.

There was a rumor going around that they were exhausted.

“That’s silly,” Zelda yawned, taking a sip of tea from her mug. “Karane, you should really stop gossiping.” Setting down her cup, she resumed her knitting project: a blanket for Kukiel who, despite her love for adventure, was having a hard time adjusting to the surface. The blanket would be covered in pictures of loftwings and clouds.

“It’s not gossip,” Karane protested. “I can see it in your eyes, Zelda. You have bags!”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Link had to wake you up this morning. It’s usually the other way around.”

“How do you know– ah, Pipit…”

“You should take some time for yourself,” Karane encouraged, getting up to refill her teacup. “You and Link give a lot.”

“We don’t mind,” Zelda argued as she shifted to watch Karane over the back of her chair. “There’s a lot of work to do and we can do it.”

Karane sighed and swirled her cup. Looking out the window, she said, “Link is out with Pipit right now chopping firewood. Maybe you can go get some fresh air, walk a little bit, without starting a new project.” She walked to the door, lifting the cup. “Oh, I’ll return this later.”

And then Karane was gone and Zelda was alone and maybe her best friend was right. A light breeze blew outside, gently ruffling the curtains on the window through which she could hear birds singing. A walk outside, without any projects or jobs or strings attached, was something Zelda hadn’t done in a long time. So, she gently set Kukiel’s blanket aside, finished her cup of tea, and ventured out into the surrounding woods.

On the other side of the surface settlement, Pipit hacked away at a pile of firewood while Link–unwillingly–stood and watched.

“I’m not letting you help,” Pipit huffed as he lifted the axe over his head. “This is my job.”

“But I can do it.”

“You’ve done enough.” With a whack, the log at Pipit’s feet split into two. “You never do anything for yourself anymore.”

“I do plenty for myself,” Link protested. “Last night, I ate dinner.”

Pipit couldn’t stop himself from bursting out in a fit of laughter so loud the birds hidden in the trees launched away into the air.

“Alone?” Pipit asked between chuckles.

“Well, Zelda was finishing up some of the laundry she was helping with, and she got back late.”

“That’s exactly it.” Pipit set leaned on the handle of the axe and glowered at Link. “You two don’t have any time to do something together that doesn’t involve working.”

“Finishing up the settlement is important,” Link replied. “Once that’s done, then we can rest.”

”Or you could rest now—“

“Hey,” a voice rang out, and Pipit didn’t miss the way Link’s eyes lit up. “Am I intruding?” Zelda emerged from behind a tree, and to Pipit’s surprise, wasn’t carrying a pile of fabric or a bucket of water. It was just her.

“Not at all, Zel,” Pipit said, casting a glance at Link’s tomato-hued face, “not at all.” He also didn’t miss the slight fumble in his step which almost sent the logs in his arms rolling.

“I was wondering if Link had a minute,” she said. “But if you’re busy, I don’t want to interrupt—I know that wood is urgent.”

Pipit hurriedly, almost eagerly, replied that it was not urgent. “Take him if you need him.” Link hesitated, glancing between the pile of uncut wood and the woman dearest to him, wondering what mattered more.

He went off with Zelda, leaving Pipit alone and knowing he would never hear the end of this later.

There was a rumor going around that Link and Zelda were in love.

“What happened?” Link asked as they walked through the forest.

“Does something need to happen for us to take a stroll?”

“No, but— usually— I mean, when you come get me it’s because you need help with some work.”

“I just had an idea that we could take a break.” Yes. An idea that was entirely her own. “But if you have to get back, I understand.”

“No! No, I don’t.” Their hands swung at their sides as they walked and Link ever so gently grazed his fingers against hers. Zelda glanced down and turned her face away to hide her blush. Nervously, she slipped her fingers into his. The rest of the walk was silent, but in that silence was comfort. The silence said everything—that they could truly be at peace, even in the midst of building and planning and healing, their peace could be found within the other.

Just outside the forest that surrounded the settlement was Lake Floria. Zelda had grown fond of it on the rare occasions she visited. Beside the lake was a tree taller and much older than the rest, which is where they sat down. For a long time they stayed there, talking, reminiscing, clutching hands, and they were so engrossed in each other that they didn’t notice the golden light of sunset or the glowing bugs that came out of hiding.

“It’s been very nice to do this,” Zelda said as she plucked at some grass. “Perhaps we could do this more.”

“I think so too.”

“You know,” she continued after a moment of quiet, “I’ve been working on a blanket for Kukiel.”

“Have you?”

“She’s homesick, so I thought it would be nice.” She tore a tuft of grass out of the earth. “Maybe… I could make a blanket for us, too.”

“I could get some more wood,” Link offered, “for our hearth.”

“We could sit under our blanket in front of our fire and drink tea together. Just us, for ourselves.” And Zelda thought there was no moment more perfect than this, surrounded only by the forest and its wildlife, treasuring every detail: the upward curve of Link’s lips, the presence of his hand over hers, the blush that was surely creeping onto her face.

They faced each other. “That sounds nice,” Link said, eyes traveling down to her lips, then back up to those sky-blue eyes that would always remind him of home. Not the Knight Academy, not Skyloft, not the Goddess Statue, but home: her.

He reached up and cupped her face with that same gentle care he always had, like he could lose her again with just a simple touch, and she closed her eyes and gingerly leaned in…

…and there was a rumor going around that they shared their first kiss underneath the tree by the lake.

#loftwingletters24 #loftwing letters 2024 #loftwing letters #zelink #skyward sword #zelda #link #pipit #karane #fluff #legend of zelda #gift exchange #zelinktines #zelinktines 2024

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houserosaire · 1 year ago

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Prompt #1: Envoy

The snowflake fell onto his hand, the first envoy of the coming storm. Silvaineaux paused midway through patting Joyeux’s neck to spare it a look. It was a pretty thing: a tiny, perfect star of ice. He could remember catching them on his tongue as a boy, or on the dark fabric of his sleeves so he could marvel at the way each tiny flower of the storm was different and beautiful. Now he simply shook it off his gauntlet and looked skyward.

Snow no longer meant Starlight and coming winter. The crisp chill of the air brought with it no pleasant anticipation of carols and parties. Instead Silvaineaux eyed the gathering clouds with worry and displeasure. They had a long ride to the next place they might find shelter and all that snow foretold was misery and wet, and a fresh blanket covering over their tracks as though he and his men had never been at all.

He could only hope the dragons felt the same way about flying in it that he did about riding. His hands tightened on Joyeux’s reins, slackening the birds pace as Ser Valerian came up abreast of him. “Might want to pull up your hood.” His fellow knight suggested. Silvaineaux noted he had already followed his own suggestion.

With a sigh Silvaineaux tugged his own up far enough to shelter his ears and the top of his head, but not far enough to keep him from being able to see all the wide white blanket of the countryside around them and the hanging grey of the clouds looming low above them. “Did you ride all the way up the line to fuss at me about keeping warm?” He asked.

Valerian laughed. “I am not your mother. No. I just wondered what was the plan should this grow worse.”

“She was certainly much better to look on than you.” Silvaineaux agreed teasingly. Then turned his eyes back to the malms of white country in front of them as he considered. White stretched off into the distance, fading out into a misty obscurity far nearer than he liked. If it worsened… Fury forfend. But through that ever thickening curtain of falling snow he could still make out the heavy grey shape of the nearest hills. Shaking off a few more snowflakes he fished into the pouch at his belt until he found his compass. “I will turn us now, toward the hills and note our heading. “Perhaps we can find a cave or some frozen house, but at worst there will be rocks to block the wind.”

Valerian nodded, seemingly satisfied with that and turned his own eyes on the sky. “Do you suppose it will ever end?” He asked. “This unnatural winter? Do you suppose the land can heal?”

Silvaineaux thought of snow melt and the buds of leaves on trees going green. He remembered gardens full of flowers and the heavy sun of summer beating down. He thought of the green of leaves turning red and golden and the chill rains of fall fading into storms like this one. He recalled snow falling outside the windows, beautiful from his place beside the fire. Beautiful because it would pass. “I don’t know.” He said at last.

Valerian nodded. “I suppose we can hope.”

“Hope costs nothing.” Silvaineaux said, turning Joyeux toward the hills.

“Do you remember what day it is?” Valerian asked suddenly.

“I do.” Silvaineaux said, thinking again of summer. His eyes lowered to his compass.

“Happy Nameday, then.” Valerian said.

“Thank you.” Silvaineaux offered him a small smile. “Though I wish you hadn’t invited the snow to the party.”

#FFxivwrite2023 #FFxivWrite #Silvaineaux #Ser Valerian #Backstory stuff #my writings

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redheadspark · 2 years ago

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May Prompt Session

Hello, my lovelies!

Can you believe we are already well in May?! Where had the time gone?

I wanted to pause a bit before I decided to make a May Pormpt Session since my life is beyond chaotic with work and personal life in general, but I'm ready for another session for certain!

This theme is :

May

Here are my rules for this prompt session:

1.) You maybe chose ONE character from the list that I have Here. It’ll have the list of characters that I write for or have written for in the past.

*(If you have a character not listed that you wish for me to write, PLEASE MESSAGE ME AND CLEAR IT WITH ME FIRST TO SEE IF I CAN OR WILL DO IT!)*

2.) There is only one Prompt list for this session since the list is rather large. Please provide BOTH the number you would like AND the character to pair it with.

Example: Can I have Aziel from ACOTAR with #5?

*I write out the requests as first come first serve. I will try my best to fulfill every request that comes my way, but please bear in mind I work full-time as a teacher. Because of that, I’ll be busy most of the day so please be patient and I’ll write in my spare time as much as I can :) *

3.) If I get two requests that are exactly the same, (same character and same number) I will only write it once! Please don't be afraid to ask if someone had already requested the character and number, I don't mind answering that for you :)

4.) You can request in my ASK box neither as yourself or anonymously. Although I would LOVE to give you a shout if you request as yourself, anon is perfectly fine!

5.) I will stop taking requests for this prompt session on Sunday, May 21st, at 3:00 PST.

6.) Have fun and enjoy!

Prompt Session created by @youneedsomeprompts

collecting flowers on their way home

listening to the birds when they wake up

spring fever

taking deep inhales of the fresh spring air

walking in the park

new beginnings

picnic dates

standing up for themselves

standing up for a loved one

watching nature getting greener every day

falling head over heels in love

rolling down the window of the car

enjoying the sun that's warming their face

meeting new people

being ready for the next step

trying something new

building someone up

youthful spirit

being extremely energetic

always humming a tune

weekend trips

confidence boost

skinny dipping even though it's much too cold

lying under the sunny sky and watching the clouds

making flower crowns

riding the bike to the bakery in the morning

being enlightened

adopting a puppy/kitten

starting to heal

always wearing their favorite blouse/shirt

helping each other out

discovering the first early bloomers

taking heart

being unexperienced

getting back up after falling down

rain in bright sunshine

not leaving the house without a raincoat

fresh flowers every week

making plans for the summer

spending their days outside

motivating others

realizing their feelings

enjoying spring in the countryside

risking something in order to achieve something

going all in

freezing even though it's not winter anymore

waiting impatiently for summer

the park becoming their second home

Once again, I will stop taking requests for this Prompt Session on Sunday, May 21st, at 3:00 PST. Thanks a lot and Happy requesting!

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @heartofwritiing @virtueassassin @basicrese @saradika @heliosphere8

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litgwritersroom · 2 years ago

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SUMMER LOVE (But It's Golden)

Bobby McKenzie attends a wedding.

Bobby/MC - 3900+ words - i-boop-you

🎵 and i can still see it all in my mind, all of you, all of me, intertwined. i once believed love would be black and white but it's golden 🎵

The church bells were ringing; a piano was playing softly within. The sky was clear blue, like even the weather couldn’t find a reason not to celebrate today. The day was as full of sunshine as the faces of the welcoming party outside the church.

How was that for a Thursday in November.

Bobby rode up with Noah and a few other of the lads from the show. The whole group had been invited. Bobby had apparently been extremely close to being shafted off the guest list, and he wasn’t all that surprised. Not when he and the bride had spent the entire summer in the Villa together, even exchanging the ‘I love you’. At the time, Bobby could see them exchanging a different set of vows; vows she’ll now be exchanging with someone else.

If it wasn’t for the guys, Bobby might never have come. He had half a mind to run still, to escape the church grounds, never looking back, as he dashed between the rose bushes. Long before he’d first dropped those three little words he knew he felt them, and even now, long after he had first let them fall from his lips, he knew he still felt them. He was as certain now as he had been back then.

The unnatural heat of today was almost as strong as it had been back on that challenge platform; the sound of the distant birds chirping away in the background; the smell of the breeze carrying warmth and fresh country air. He closed his eyes and it was like he was back there, back before everything fell apart.

Neither of them had known her ex boyfriend had been waiting for her to come out. He laid it on thick, never letting up, a never-ending train of apologies as he begged for forgiveness. No doubt she had never looked as good as she had winning Love Island.

Bobby had seen it coming before it happened. Just a month after they left the Villa, she sat him down and ended things, saying she was going to give things another go with Levi. They had history, a past, all this time invested in each other already. From what Bobby knew of their past relationship, that history was full of Levi cheating on her with some cherry lips and a mountain of shining red hair.

From the moment Levi appeared back in her life, Bobby knew she would leave to go back to him, giving Levi the chance and the ammunition to hurt her again. Bobby wasn’t bitter, and he wasn’t hanging about waiting with an ‘I told you so’, and nor was he hanging on to welcome her back sobbing into his open arms. It just was. This was reality and he wasn’t spending forever imagining the different realities where she ran back to him. For all Bobby knew, she might even end up forgiving Levi again if - when? - if - he cheated on her once more.

But all that breaking up was just five months ago. She had come to him a month after the split to tell him Levi had proposed, and she had said yes, and that it was happening soon. Bobby was still adjusting to it until the very morning the day came.

And that day was today.

Bobby woke up; the fog that had sat in his head in the months building up to today was dissipating, clearing the way to really think straight; his bad mood, his sullen air, was all blowing away like the clouds in the sky, leaving his sights clear.

His stomach was still in knots, but he was entering a church to watch the woman he loved get married to some douchebag who never treated her right. Was he going to say anything? Was he going to rudely barge in, find her, tell her what a mistake she was making, that if she did this she could be regretting it for the rest of her life? Surely, if he did that, made her call the whole thing off, that could be what she regrets for the rest of her life.

His heart lost speed as they made their way under the arched doorway of the church. The white ribbons adorned the length of the room, going from pew to pew, tying together the small bouquets of flowers at each end. White, silver, and blue, so very elegant, but he always knew her as golden.

She was the bright day; the colour of sunshine; sweet like honey, as lovely as a daffodil. She was the representation of joy, and if laughter was a person, it would have been her. She was Summer; the air, the breeze, the daze.

At least, that’s how he knew her in the Villa. That’s how she looked in the dozens of photos that were constantly splashed across hers and Levi’s socials. Every time he had seen her since the break-up, she looked more like a painting of her old self. Or had the cracks always been there, and Bobby had been too stunned to see?

No.

No. She had always been enough. She had always been true. She had always been honest.

Maybe he was just fooling himself, talking himself into seeing her unhappiness because he wanted it, selfishly so. Maybe he was waiting for her to wake up and realise she wanted him instead. Maybe he was holding out for her to call off the wedding. Maybe he was hoping that she would spot him in the crowd and the whole façade would crumble, the show would stop, and she would come back to him.

He knew she wouldn’t. She couldn't. Nothing like that happens for real; it’s too selfish, too inconsiderate, the exact opposite of her.

It would have been easy to hate her. He had every justification. He had read the tabloids, seen the theories. She had always meant to run back to Levi. They only broke up so she could go on the show and get famous herself. She only accepted the slot on the show to make him crawl back in the first place.

Everyone had a theory, and Bobby had read them all, but they didn’t know her like he knew her. They didn’t see her like he saw her. That was not her.

She had come onto the show a heartbroken girl, and built herself back up again in Bobby’s arms. He would do it again, even if it ended with them exactly where they were now, just so he could have that time with her. He would always have the Summer. Summer would always have them. They had been in love.

Blazing and true, it had been honest and heartfelt. It was what they both needed at the time; they were who each other needed. Never had anything felt so right in Bobby’s life, and he thought that she had felt it all too.

He’d never forget her face when Levi showed up at her door just two weeks after the show ended. The shock, the hurt; it was genuine, because she was genuine. The only fake thing about her had been those nails. Oh, and the hair extensions.

Still. Bobby took a deep breath as they found their seats. This was it. This was the new reality. She was getting married. She knew what she was doing. It wasn’t like she had been held at gunpoint for the past five months, forced to smile as she picked colour schemes, floral arrangements, and how many entrees they were going to serve.

That yes had come from her own lips.

Bobby couldn’t help but wonder how gleeful it might have been, how happy in that moment she had really been. She must have been happy enough. She must be the happiest she’s ever been. He had to accept that, he had to accept that he needed to move on.

This was going to be the first step, the lads assured him. They were rallied around, hands on his shoulders, patting him reassuringly at every moment, making sure he was watched at all times lest he run away sobbing.

Well, Bobby had no plans to do anything like that. He was going to sit in his seat and be happy for her. If anyone asked why he looked so uncomfortable, he’d blame it on the pew.

Actually, he did need to take a leak.

He patted Noah on the thigh, leant in, to whisper, “I need to pee.”

“Did you not go before we left?” Noah asked, frowning at him like Bobby was his kid brother or something.

“No, I forgot.”

“I told you to go before we left the house -”

“Well, I forgot. Jeez, you wouldn’t think I had other things on my mind -”

“I’m not letting you go on your own.”

“What? What do you think I’m going to do? Go hunt her down and -”

“She’s not here yet,” Lucas butted in, turning to lean over the back of his pew from the seat in front of them. “Chelsea just updated the group chat that she’s just getting her rollers out.”

Bobby raised his brows at Noah. “See. I’m literally just going to be a second.”

“Yeah, he’s got the kilt on, so he can just whip it up over one of those rose bushes outside,” Gary said, joining in with a grin.

“Okay, you are not peeing in the church flowers,” Noah said, shaking his head at Bobby like it was his idea.

“I wasn’t going to! God, why are you guys acting like I don’t know how to behave? My plan was always, always to find the toilets, believe it or not,” Bobby said exasperatedly.

“Should someone still go with him?” Ibrahim offered. “Just in case.”

“In case what?” Bobby asked, now flummoxed. It was like he had a history of being a mental case. What did they think he would do?

Ibrahim shrugged. “I dunno, like hide in a cupboard to jump out at the bridal party or something?”

“Why would I do that?”

“To be fair, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did something like that,” Henrik added, turning into the conversation with Lucas’ other side.

Bobby shook his head. “You guys really think I would do anything to try and ruin her day?”

“I mean, I don’t think it would be intentional -” Lucas begins, but Bobby cut him off by slicing his hand through the air. He cut them all off.

“I’m going before I wet myself in church,” he says, getting up.

“Again?” Gary offers, eyebrow raised.

“Again?” Bobby repeats, voice pitched. This one made him pause.

“Didn’t you tell us a story about you wetting yourself at -”

“That was at a sleepover. And also, I was six. I have more restraint these days.”

“We’ll see.”

Bobby got up and went. He found the toilets easy enough, down a hall just off the front door. There was a cue already, showing he wasn’t the only one without foresight to go before they got there. He would rub that in Noah’s face when he got back.

Bobby took out his phone while he waited. The group chat was exploding; the girls were keeping them constantly updated on their every move, updating the bride's every move.

Bobby felt still again as he imagined her in her white dress, getting her make-up done, holding a bouquet that matched the ones dotted around the church. He was about to watch her gliding up the aisle, eyes adoringly on the only man that mattered to her today, and he was going to watch it from the side-line.

He closed his eyes again, seeing her not from the side, not from one amongst the crowd, but centre stage, above everyone else, just him and her.

His eyes shut tighter as he saw her giving him the look she had the first time they exchanged those words. He swapped the ‘I love you’ for ‘I do’. She didn’t need to say I love you because it was all over her face, the look of love clear as the day they’d woken up to.

And the best part, the very best part - it was only for him.

Bobby and her, and they were in love, and it was just them, living in the sunshine. And if the rain did come, well, he didn’t mind living in rainbows.

One message popped up in the chat, stuck out like a daisy among weeds. It wasn’t from her, none of them were, though they were all about her.

Lottie: Is Bobby there? The bride doesn’t believe us that he’s shown up!

Chels: BOBBY, IF YOU’RE THERE GIVE US A SIGN!!! WAVE!! AN EMOJI! ANYTHING!!

… Was she worried he wasn’t going to be here? She really, really wanted him to come along? After everything?

More importantly, was the thought that he wasn’t going to go upsetting her? Why would it matter so much? They were ‘old flames’ now. Though, she had apparently really, really fought to get him invited at all. So he knew there was something.

His heart was racing still when he got back to his seat. The guys congratulated him for not running away and not doing anything daft. Bobby just pushed a stupid grin on his face and got quiet.

“Hey, the girls are leaving the hotel,” Henrik said, voice laced with excitement.

“Finally,” Gary said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Show.

It was all a show.

For months, Bobby had been putting it on, pretending he wasn’t seeing the whole world putting it on, too. It was all a show.

He loved her. He loved her and he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to watch her marry the wrong guy. Even if she didn’t want to be with Bobby, she could do better than someone who had cheated on her. Even if it wasn’t with him. She could do better.

Everyone deserves someone who’s willing to give them their whole heart. You can’t do better than that, and Bobby doesn’t want to watch anyone - let alone the bride of the day - be with anyone less than they deserve.

Everything feels like it’s all happening at once. The place goes quiet, but it’s buzzing with noise.

The piano is playing; louder and quieter at the same time. The groom and all his men lead their way to the front of the room where the priest is waiting.

Bobby could not dispute how happy Levi looked right then. He was suddenly buried by an avalanche of guilt for wanting to rob Levi of the joy and happiness that she brought into the world. Maybe Levi had changed, maybe he was better now, and maybe he wouldn’t break her heart again. Bobby had to believe it. He had to.

Even as his heart was pounding, longing for her - for him - for anyone to do something. Don’t say yes, don’t say yes, please, please, don’t let anyone say ‘I do’.

The room went quiet. Everyone was hushed, the world was as still as it ever was going to get. The anticipation filled the room, everyone wanting to see the bride in all her beautiful glory, all eyes on her as they should be, the most beautiful woman in the world.

Bobby got to his feet like everyone else. He saw over the heads of everyone who was sitting behind them. Each hammer of the piano keys felt like someone was inside his head, knocking their fists against his skull. Was this ‘Here Comes the Bride’ or a death march?

His eyes were glistening already, just a moment before she stepped foot inside the old building, the sun at her back, making her glow like an idol handpicked by the angels themselves.

She was beauty, she was elegance, she was the stars that shined in the night and the sun that lit up the day; she was the air he breathed, she was life, she was everything.

And she was waltzing up the aisle to someone else.

Bobby couldn’t even take his eyes off of her to make sure Levi was appreciating the sight before him properly. How could he not? How could he ever imagine hurting someone so wonderful? How could Levi live with himself knowing that he hadn’t done everything he could to keep her happy?

Is that what Bobby was guilty of now? As he watched her making her way to the front of the church where Levi was waiting, expectant smile all over his undeserving face, is that what Bobby was allowing?

Could Bobby live with himself knowing he hadn’t done everything he could to keep her happy?

She stood before them all, facing Levi, and reached for his hand. Was she smiling? Was she happy? She should be, she would be - but how long would it last? How long until that smile and the sunshine within her faded out?

Bobby’s ears were ringing; he could hear the church bells again despite their stillness. He watched Levi’s and the priest's lips moving, not catching a word, could see her jaw from the side, going up and down as she recited the well-rehearsed vows along with them.

Was his heart beating, thumping with the force of a hammer, or was it still, dead as if he was flat-lining?

And then he heard it, chorusing out among the choir of chaos in his head.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now…”

… or forever hold your peace.

The words hadn’t been spoken yet. The world truly had gone still.

Hand balling into his fist, Bobby reached out to Noah, placing his fist on the other man’s thigh.

The wisp of a smile that had been on Noah’s face quickly dissipated into worry, no doubt figuring that this moment was all too much for Bobby. And it was, but not for the reason Noah probably assumed.

Looking Noah dead in the eye, Bobby said, “Should I do something really stupid?”

Eyes wide; face long; Noah paled.

He reached back for Bobby, but Bobby was already moving. All Noah could do was scramble, whispering out the most hushed, “ No - !”

Gasps rang up all around the room as Bobby got to his feet, standing as bold as brass in the middle of the aisle, all eyes on him.

He was only looking at her.

“Summer.”

Summer looked at him, eyes wide, but soft. Her lips were parted, like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. If she was stunned, at a loss for words, he couldn’t blame her. He was stunned at his own boldness, already feeling the weight of standing up so suddenly pressing him down.

“Don’t do this,” he said, blinking back any potential tears. His heart was back and it was going so fast he thought it might be trying to kill him. “Don’t say ‘I do’, please. I should have spoken up sooner, and I’m sorry for doing this now…”

He took a step forward, and that seemed to break the spell. Mutterings broke out across the room, there was some movement from those sitting around him like they were thinking of physically stopping him should he try to take another step towards the happy couple.

“Don’t marry him. He’s already proven he doesn’t deserve you, Summer. I’m not saying run away with me, but I’m asking you not to throw your life away for some guy who doesn’t even respect you enough to stay faithful.”

Jaws were dropping all around after already being picked back up. Not a soul in the place looked like they knew what do to.

But there was only face, one person, Bobby cared about now.

*****

Summer didn’t know how to feel. She stood in front of all her friends and family, in front of her fiancé's friends and family, being asked not to do the very thing everyone was planning for over the last five months.

It had all been such a rush, she hadn’t even thought much about it beyond picking out the details. The last few months had been like living in a dream, and she had sensed that reality was about to burst her bubble. But not like this.

Bobby stood, so sorrowful, full of regret and pleading. So blue. He shut his eyes tight. She saw it in him; whatever gusto had build up that led to him standing, finally speaking out, she saw it all leave him.

He opened his eyes. Once more, they were only on her. It always felt like he never saw the world around her when she was there, that his eyes were well and truly only for her.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. He stepped back. “I’ll go.”

Noah stood, going straight to Bobby, putting his hand on Bobby’s chest. “Come on,” he said, speaking soft, “let’s go.”

Her eyes flickered around their friends; seeing the shock, the horror, the hands held to their mouths, eyes wide in disbelief.

Bobby was half way down the aisle when Summer turned back to Levi finally.

His face was a picture of fury. He had to yet to tear his eyes off the back of Bobby’s head.

Summer understood. Of course he would be furious. He should be. And after arguing with her about him even getting invited, he was right…

Or was he?

Summer looked at him. Really, really looked at him. All of a sudden it was like she was seeing him for the first time, seeing him through the eyes of everyone else, of those not blinded by the love she felt for him once.

Her heart sank.

On her wedding day, before all of her guests, looking at her future husband. Her heart sank at the sight of him. All that happiness was turning in her stomach, but she knew what she needed to do.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling it come out of her mouth like a ghost was speaking through her. She hardly believed she had said it, but she had. And it wasn’t because of the interruption. “I’m sorry, Levi. He’s right. I can’t - I should - we shouldn’t. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

His face fell and her own matched it. She felt that loss, that sorrow, but there was something else, too… something stronger.

“Bobby…”

“Summer -” Levi tried to reach out of her, but she was already stepping back.

Summer turned to the crowd, one foot already heading down the short set of steps. “BOBBY!”

Everyone stared, the shocking just kept piling on and on. But Summer could only see him. He was under the arch, framed by the unnaturally beautiful day, like the world had come together to make her see everything so clearly that she couldn’t believe she had ever seen anything different. What was was blue had turned golden.

He turned, looking back at her like he couldn’t believe it. She felt like she had on that first day they met; the sun enveloped him that day too, like summer was trying to hug him.

Summer blew down the aisle, heart beating harder than it had on her way up, hair blowing behind her, not a care in the world how the man at the other end saw her, knowing he wouldn’t care because she was coming to him.

“Bobby.”

It came out as a gasp, a cry, as she threw her arms around him. He held her back tight, holding her like he was afraid of ever letting her go again.

"Summer."

“Come on,” she said, breaking off the hug, but not breaking from him. Not again. Never again.

She took his hand, and he took hers, and they ran down the church steps into the glory of the bright, new day.

When those church doors shut heavily behind them, Summer stopped them again, throwing her arms around his neck once more, but this time, without the eyes of the world on them, she kissed him.

In that moment, the world was theirs. It was peace.

It was golden.

#litg #litg fanfic #litg writers room #writers room #litg bobby #bobby mckenzie #i-boop-you #character spotlight #litg character spotlight #litg season 2

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skyloftian-nutcase · 2 years ago

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Have a Breath of the Sky snippet for Sky's birthday

Since I can't seem to update freaking thing SOB

The day was beautiful.

Zelda sighed happily, leaning against a large tree behind her. Link’s head was in her lap, his eyes closed as he relaxed peacefully. The sunlight was bright, with barely any clouds in the sky to block it out. A gentle breeze blew through the garden, carrying the scent of so many flowers Zelda didn’t recognize, the smells blending into a wonderful cacophony of olfactory sensations, leaving her smiling.

The start of their day had been too much for both of them, and Zelda had decided that after breakfast was brought to them by the servants who had met them with the healer, they’d go outside. Some fresh air would do them some good and make them feel less crushed under the weight of everything happening around them.

Zelda remembered celebrations in her honor as Hylia. She remembered services, worship, praise. She remembered people adoring her and petitioning to her, so, so long ago. It made her stomach churn. Not that she didn’t appreciate the sincerity and effort being put in, but… it reminded her of being someone she still wasn’t sure of, someone different. She and Link had struggled so much over the last ten months trying to rework their relationship, trying to help her figure out who she really was. Memories of Hylia flooded her mind, changing mannerisms and words, making Link flinch sometimes, making her heart break at the sight of it. But they’d gotten stronger together, they’d figured it out together, and this place was threatening to tear that apart all over again just days after they’d vowed to be together forever.

Link’s eyes slowly opened and then widened, and he gasped and shot up in an instant. Zelda jumped, her hands jerking away from where they’d been massaging his scalp. He pointed in a particular direction. “Zelda, look! Birds!!”

She followed his finger and saw a small group of tiny birds hopping around in the grass. Her heart melted at the sight of it, even more so after she saw Link’s face glowing with wonder.

“I can never get over how small they are,” he whispered. “These look even smaller than the ones we’ve seen before!”

He stood up quickly, scurrying over to the tiny balls of feathers. Zelda giggled and followed him and then bit her lip to stop herself from laughing as he let out a sad noise when they flew away.

“They’re so skittish,” he lamented, his lower lip sticking out in a pout.

“I have an idea, hang on,” Zelda said patting him on the shoulder, suddenly excited as she remembered something. There was a place on the other side of the garden where there was bird seed; she’d seen it when she’d wandered the area the other day. If they used that, surely they’d win them over. Rushing towards the castle, she burst through the door and down the hall to cut through to the other side of the courtyard. She passed a couple guards on the way, both of whom jumped, recognized her, and practically fell to their knees out of respect. She skidded to a halt just outside the entrance to the other side of the garden, grabbing a bag and scooping it full of bird seed before turning on her heel and rushing back, passing the same guards just as they had started rising only for them to fall to their knees again in a crash of armor.

Rushing back outside to where Link was, she dug her hand into the bag and gave him some. “This’ll help!”

Link gasped in delight at the seeds. Grinning widely at Zelda, he started to slowly make his way to the trees where the birds had gathered. He and Zelda both tossed seed all around them and patiently waited as the birds cautiously made their way over. Eventually, a sense of trust was developed and the two were on the ground giggling as birds landed in their hands to eat the treasures they offered.

“They’re so soft!” Link squeaked as he rubbed his cheek against one. “It’s like a baby loftwing!”

“Wait, I want to pet one!” Zelda said excitedly, slowly reaching her hand to the thoroughly fluffed bird nestled between Link’s hand and his cheek. The sensation was indeed similar to petting down feathers on a young loftwing, and she couldn’t help the wide smile that came to her face. A small part of her missed home at the sensation as well, but she wasn’t going to ruin the moment.

“Do you think they have pet birds?” Link asked curiously as all their new friends decided it was time to leave. “I know there aren’t loftwings here, but…”

He trailed off, suddenly sad. Zelda cocked her head to the side, about to ask what was wrong, but she figured she already knew.

“You miss him, don’t you?” she asked. Link looked down, nodding.

“I miss my loftwing too,” she added, leaning against him. “But we’ll see them soon.”

Link agreed happily, though she could tell by how he was starting to lean heavily on her he was about due for a nap. She didn’t dare say it out loud, though, or he’d vehemently protest. Stretching, she laid down in the grass, and Link automatically followed her. The two snuggled and settled in for a peaceful rest, the discomfort of the morning forgotten.

#breath of the sky #writing #maybe I'll just save the party for next chapter #that should speed up updating the story #ugh whatever who knows #enjoy Sky Link and Sky Zelda cuddling and seeing birds #and Zelda giving guards heart attacks

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moonxkitty · 2 years ago

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You're perfect but you're not him (part 3)

Saeyoung x Reader ᗢᘏ౨

Saeran x reader does happen, but it's unrequited love.

Where the hell is he? You've been wandering around the RFA party room for about an hour. Well, not exactly. Some of the guests had stopped you to chat with them, other's requesting a toast. You barely drank any of the champaign given to you, only taking small sips when it seemed like the appropriate time to do so. Alcohol was never really your thing.

You felt suffocated within the walls of the building and Saeran was nowhere to be seen. In the end, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. You could still hear the faint and distant music playing from inside. The tune was soft and gentle, just like the warm summertime breeze currently surrounding your body.

"Hey," a voice spoke up from behind you. It startled you taking you a second to realise who it belonged to. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay. I was looking for you inside but it got too stuffy for me."

"Birds of a feather flock together they say," he smiles. He made way down the two steps that led to the front entrance, so that he was next to you rather than behind. He looks up at the sky with glee. His eyes are soft, almost in awe at what his eyes are observing. The two of you stand in silence for a few minutes before he suddenly speaks up.

"The clouds."

"Hm?"

"They're beautiful; the clouds and the sky. The stars and the moon. Its romantic don't you think?" He's now facing you, but your head is still looking up at the sky. Eyes fixated on the mesmerizing view. It's no wonder he loved the sky so much. It's truly a sight to behold.

"You're not wrong," you finally meet his gaze, "Its beautiful tonight."

His hand is already held out by the time you're face to face, "Care to dance?"

"In the dark? Are you sure? What if I trip..."

"I'm sure. While you're in my arms, you'll always be safe."

"Then, yes. I'll dance with you." You take his hand in yours. The other finds its way to his shoulder, his holding onto your waist. Slowly the two of you sway to muffled music. You hum along to the melody. So gentle and sweet.

In this moment you looked at him as if he were Saeyoung. In the dark you couldn't tell the difference. Less than an hour ago you did almost the exact same with him. Well inside rather than outside. The memory fresh in your mind. You felt as if it were really him as you replayed the scene from earlier in your head.

You slowly lean in to kiss him, closing your eyes gently. He does the same but stops before your lips touch. His voice drops to just barely above a whisper.

"I can't."

Your eyes flutter back open, looking into his. They're sad. Lonely.

"What do you mean?" you match his tender tone. Your lips are so close but it seems inappropriate to close in the distance. But neither of you pulled away either, just staying as you are.

"I saw the look in your eyes," he confesses, "when we danced."

You didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue. It felt like the world had stopped. That it was just the two of you in the night.

"I know you pretend I'm Saeyoung. But I'm not. I'll never be him," his eyes start to water. When he blinks a tear rolls slowly down his face. You take your hand and cup his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

"I'm sorry Saeran," thats all you could manage to say.

"But I'm still in love with you. Why is that? It hurts."

"Saeran..."

"I need some time alone. Can you get Saeyoung? I want him to take me back to his place." He moves away from your touch, and holds his arms against his chest.

"Yeah. I'll go do that," you leave Saeran outside and go back into the party to get Saeyoung. You held back your tears but they kept threatening to spill over. It hurt. You didn't mean to hurt Saeran. He still meant a lot to you. But here you were, messing things up again.

Finding Saeyoung wasn't a hard task. He was with his girlfriend at the buffet table. She was drinking wine and he was stacking his plate full of unhealthy treats. You were nervous to go up to him, afraid that you looked as tearful as you felt. It wasn't time to pity yourself, you had to get Saeyoung to drive Saeran back to his place. With a deep breath you walked over to him.

"Saeyoung?" You tugged at his sleeve, looking up at him.

His mouth was full of powdered donut holes, "Whats up?" He didn't finish eating before speaking. He swallowed what was left and wiped the crumbs off of his face.

His girlfriend turned her attention towards you and narrowed her eyes. She didn't say anything though, very clearly drunk.

You glanced over at her, before back at Saeyoung. "Saeyoung... Its Saeran. We had a fight and he wants you to take him home right now. Not our home. Your home." The tears finally started spilling over your cheeks. Saying it out loud made it hurt more than you thought it would. You couldn’t hold the them back anymore.

"Where is he?" his voice filled with concern, appearing to look at ease on the outside. But to anyone who knew him personally knew he was a nervous wreck over his brother. He cared about him a lot.

"Outside. He's waiting outside for you."

"Minji, I'll have Jumin take you home after the party."

He grabs your wrist, disregarding Minji's protests as you left the building. You felt bad for leaving her there but she was drunk and you didn't know what she might say to Saeran. Most people can't keep their mouths shut when they aren't sober. You knew that. Saeyoung knew that. He probably knew that better than you did and that was probably the reason he left her there.

Just as you said, Saeran was there. He was upset, eyes red from crying. You both had been crying. Needless to say Saeyoung knew it wasn't a small disagreement. Saeran may have cried over small disagreements in the past but not to this degree. Not to mention you weren't much of a crier either.

"Lets go," Saeyoung taps his brothers shoulder to get his attention. He turns to you, "I'll drop you off afterwards. I don't think either of you are in the mood to stay here."

You nod. Both Saeran and you follow Saeyoung to his car. You get in the front seat while Saeran gets in the back. The car ride was a quiet one. Nobody wanted to be the first to talk. The only noises were the engine's purr and the wheels against the smooth pavement it drove on. All of Saeyoung's cars were sports cars, making the sounds emitting from them soothing. At least in your opinion. He certainly had taste when it came to cars, even if his fashion choices were a little bit wacky at times.

Saeyoung pulls into his garage and Saeran gets out of the car. Saeyoung follows his brother and they both walk into his house. After about 10 minutes of waiting in his car, which felt like an hour to you, Saeyoung came back. He had gotten Saeran some water and set up the spare bedroom for his comfort. He really was a good brother. You only wished you treated Saeran better.

Saeyoung gets into the drivers seat but doesn't start the car. He just looks at you. You look back at him. His golden eyes were truly a sight to behold. They reminded you of the sun.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Are you okay? Are you okay? You? Why is he asking you? You're the asshole here. You're the reason Saeran is crashing at Saeyoung's house. In fact, you're the reason you and Saeyoung broke up in the first place. You start crying again regardless of your efforts not to.

"YN.... It's okay."

"Stop Saeyoung. Don't say that. Don't ask me if I'm okay. Don’t say it’s okay. Don't care about my feelings in this situation," you snap at him. The expression on your face is a mixture of frustration and sorrow.

"Your feelings matter," he reaches out, and touches your back to comfort you.

"No they don't. Not when its my fault. I deserve to rot in hell for what I did to Saeran."

"I'm sure you're overreacting. You clearly love each other," his voice became dejected at his own words, "Things will be fine. He loves you and he'll forgive you."

Your eyes finally soften as you make eye contact with him once more, "I don't want him to love me."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you get it Saeyoung? I'm still in love with you."

Silence filled his car. He didn't know how to respond to that confession. You didn't know what to say either. In the heat of the moment you just blurted it out. You didn’t mean for him to hear that. Now you were scared of ruining what little relationship you and him still had.

Eventually he spoke up, "You still love me?"

"Yeah..."

"Then why... my brother?"

"Because I'm selfish. I'm a selfish girl who saw you in him. Your face, your touch. At times it was easy to pretend he is was you. But Saeran never deserved that."

Saeyoung gently grabs your chin, pulling you towards him.

"If we're being honest... I'm still in love with you too."

He leans in and kisses you. Its soft and sweet. So sweet. Like the Honey Buddha chips and PhD Pepper he loved. You missed him so much. When you eventually let go, you smile sadly at him.

“I don’t think I can do this to Saeran though.”

#saeyoung x reader #fanfic #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #mystic messenger saeran #saeran choi #saeran x mc #saeran x reader #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x mc #707 mm #mm 707 #mysme 707

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goodlucktai · 4 years ago

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out past the shallow breakers

the untamed pairing: jiang cheng & wei ying, jiang cheng & lan sizhui word count: 3148 read on ao3

“He died!”

The words ring loud, sharp—in the pavilion where they’re taking their evening meal, surrounded on all sides by untroubled water, the words seem to carry for miles.

It’s unlike Lan Sizhui to raise his voice at all, much less to raise it toward a senior. His hands, resting politely on his knees under the table, have curled into fists.

“Everyone goes on and on as though baba has so much to atone for,” Lan Sizhui says, each word lurching from his throat like a line of fierce corpses shambling through brush. “What more is there for him to give? What more do you want? He died.”

Jin Ling is staring at his friend as though he’s never seen him fully before. On Lan Sizhui’s other side, Wei Wuxian’s expression is shifting rapidly from alarm to comprehension. His gray eyes are full of a painful understanding.

“Sizhui ah,” Wei Wuxian says, touching the boy’s shoulder. “Come take a walk with me.”

Jerking his head in a nod, Lan Sizhui pushes to his feet and then pauses there. His Gusu Lan whites, those extra lines and layers that denote him a member of the main family, ghost elegantly around him when he lowers himself in a bow that is every inch deep that it needs to be and not one inch deeper.

“Sect Leader Jiang, this disciple apologizes,” he says. The cheerful ‘shushu’ of earlier that morning might as well be a memory of another life. “My behavior was unworthy.”

He doesn’t grit it out, the way Jin Ling would probably have had to. It doesn’t even seem to cost him any pride.

For one, single, impossible moment, it’s as though Jiang Yanli is standing there, making her apologies to their mother for her brothers’ sake, to spare them any pain she could. It didn’t matter that the blame wasn’t hers. It didn’t cost her any pride, either.

But Jiang Yanli didn’t have a chance to be a part of her nephew’s life, as much as she would have wanted to be. This likeness isn’t hers, not truly. Wei Wuxian was always more like his sister than he or Jiang Cheng were ready to admit.

“Forget it,” Jiang Cheng says. His voice is hoarse, but in the stillness of the water and the silence of the pavilion, it carries, too. “Go on.”

Wei Wuxian shepherds his son from the table. He glances back at Jiang Cheng once, a grimace of apology on his face, but then Lan Sizhui’s hand finds the trailing black hem of Wei Wuxian’s sleeve and clutches to it, and that steals all of Wei Wuxian’s attention as easily as a slap or a shout might have.

The moment they’re gone, Jin Ling lets out a breath he must have been holding, and rounds on his other uncle with wide eyes.

“What did you say?” Jin Ling blurts. “I wasn’t really paying attention, but it didn’t sound like—I mean, it sounded normal.”

Jiang Cheng is still staring at the place Lan Sizhui had stood.

The last living remnant of a persecuted clan, so much an amalgamation of his two fathers that it didn’t make sense that one of them had been dead for most of his young life—holding a grudge and bowing his head at the same time. Lan Wangji, in Jiang Cheng’s experience, has never once let something go that he could nurse icy resentment for instead. Wei Wuxian has always choked down hurt like it was second nature, no matter that it must feel like swallowing nails every time.

It was a normal conversation, but perhaps that’s exactly why Lan Sizhui couldn’t bear another second of it.

“He died,” Lan Sizhui had said, as raw as a fresh wound, or one that kept getting torn open again before it could heal. “What more do you want?”

“Ah, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says the next morning, meeting him in the courtyard. “Did you sleep well?”

He’s smiling with a certain nervous energy that Jiang Cheng can only pick out because he spent the formative years of his life raising and being raised by his siblings. To an outsider, there probably wouldn’t be a single visible chink in that cheerful armor.

Jiang Cheng, for all his failings, isn’t an outsider. Not quite. The door between them is closed—has been closed for years, almost decades—but Wei Wuxian isn’t the one who closed it. There almost certainly isn’t a lock or talisman keeping Jiang Cheng from forcing it open again.

It won’t come open again easily. There is so much stacked in the way. Hurt and betrayal and grief throw their weight into keeping it shut, weighing it down on either side.

But—

“What more do you want?” Lan Sizhui had asked.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng forces out. Wei Wuxian blinks, as if he didn’t expect a forthright answer, or any answer at all. Something about his open surprise at the barest scrap of civility makes Jiang Cheng add, “If you’re awake this early, you didn’t sleep at all.”

His brother takes the opening for what it is, and bends into character. “Oh! You know me so well!”

Mo Xuanyu’s body is smaller, slighter, than the body that Wei Wuxian was born into, and his face is not quite the same, but Wei Wuxian’s mannerisms shine through so clearly that it’s easy to look past everything else. Even the way he stands still is entirely his own, his whole body vibrating with the necessary focus it takes to keep from bursting into movement again.

He is so familiar. The most familiar thing in Jiang Cheng’s entire, almost-empty life.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Wei Wuxian says. The words spill from his mouth like river pebbles, scattering around their feet. There’s that echo of their jiejie again, smiling around I’m sorry. “Don’t hold it against him, please. He’s so young, and he’s struggling to make sense of some things. He was happy that you invited him to Lotus Pier.”

The past-tense makes Jiang Cheng want to flinch, but he doesn’t. He just stands there in the peach pink morning and absorbs the beginning of a goodbye.

“So you’re leaving, then?” he mutters.

“I think we’ve definitely worn out our welcome this time,” Wei Wuxian says, easily shouldering the blame for everyone else’s bad behavior. They might as well be twelve years old again, kneeling here in the courtyard under Madam Yu’s furious eyes. “But it’s alright! Wen Ning sent word that he’s waiting for us outside of Yunmeng and Sizhui is eager to see him. We’ll go find some trouble to get into before we head back home.”

He won’t say a word about this change of plans to his husband, but Lan Wangji will still find out—whether Lan Sizhui tells him, or Wen Ning, or he just picks up something from Wei Wuxian through osmosis—and the next cultivator conference will be excruciating. And if the Jiang clan gets anything out of it, it won’t be anything good. And Jiang Cheng will feel slighted and angry for months, until the next time Wei Wuxian swings by for a visit. And having his brother nearby will soothe an ache in the pit of Jiang Cheng’s chest that he’s able to ignore all the rest of the time. And then, inevitably, Wei Wuxian will look wistfully at the water, or linger for too long by the flowers their sister liked best, or bring some other manner of ghost to the dinner table, and Jiang Cheng will lash out because it’s the only way he knows how to handle hurt. And then Wei Wuxian will extract himself and go home to Cloud Recesses early, and Lan Wangji will rightly guess why. And it just never fucking ends, does it?

The grief he carries around with him—he’s not wrong to carry it. It’s his. He was hurt, time and again, by a person he used to count on not to hurt him. He’s two times an orphan; once when his parents died, and again when his siblings did. He had to rebuild his home from the ground up, by himself, with his own two hands. Everything he has is what he was able to dig out of the dirt and ashes.

It isn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that Lotus Pier fell. It isn’t his fault that the Wens were persecuted, that they had nowhere else to turn for protection. And it isn’t—

This one hurts; this one comes away bleeding. Jiang Cheng forces himself through it anyway.

It isn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that Yanli died.

She died for him, but he didn’t ask her to.

Jiang Cheng feels his brother’s golden core thrumming inside his chest, hyper-aware of it now in a way he rarely was before—how it feels the way the sun looks in the morning, warm and brilliant and spilling color across the dull gray of dawn.

He didn’t ask Wei Wuxian to cut himself open for Jiang Cheng’s sake. He can’t be blamed for his brother’s choices. And if that’s true (and it has to be true or Jiang Cheng will go insane) then Wei Wuxian can’t be blamed for their sister’s choice, either. Yanli died for Wei Wuxian because she loved him, and Wei Wuxian gave Jiang Cheng his golden core because he loved him, and Jiang Cheng never moved on and never let go because he loved them, too.

They weren’t raised to love softly or quietly. Love between the three of them was always fierce, like a wild animal baring its teeth. Clinging to each other in a world that wanted to rip them apart. Even Yanli, who smiled and spoke with such sweetness, went to war because her brothers were there.

“What more do you want?” Lan Sizhui had asked.

Jiang Cheng lifts his head. Wei Wuxian is already looking at him, poised, as ever, to leave the moment Jiang Cheng gives him any indication that he should, like a bird ready to fling itself into flight. His brother, dead for thirteen years and back again, and only sometimes-welcome in the place he used to call home. Only sometimes-wanted by the person who used to be his family.

In a world full of people missing people they’ll never see again, Wei Wuxian is a miracle that Jiang Cheng is entirely unworthy of.

He’s right to carry his grief, because it’s his. But he wouldn’t be wrong—it wouldn’t be a betrayal—if he chose to set it down.

“You find trouble as easy as breathing,” he says, speaking through his heart, where it’s lodged in his throat, “so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Maligned!” Wei Wuxian cries with an air of great sorrow. “Blatantly maligned, by my own flesh and blood!”

Jiang Cheng can’t say what he wants to say. He can’t find the words. There’s only so much of himself he can dig up and expose like raw nerves before the pain of it becomes overwhelming, and he reacts to the hurt the way he always does, and shoves Wei Wuxian away.

“Don’t forget to say goodbye to Jin Ling, or he’ll never forgive you,” Jiang Cheng settles for. “And I’ll be the one stuck hearing about it.”

“I would never forget my favorite nephew,” Wei Wuxian says easily.

“And if you fuck up, and get yourself into a stupid mess,” Jiang Cheng adds, before he loses his nerve, “don’t let me hear about it from someone else.”

For a moment, Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“What if it’s very stupid?” he finally asks, his voice at once both faint and painfully fond.

“What else is new?” Jiang Cheng snaps. “Just send for me, and I’ll come.”

Above them, the pink and orange of fresh dawn make way for vivid blue. As Jiang Cheng stands in his childhood home with his only brother, while the market comes to life outside the walls and the breeze sweeps the smell of lotus flowers and scallion pancakes through the courtyard, the years seem to fall away. For a brief, uninterrupted moment, they’re both back where they belong.

“Aiyah, shidi,” Wei Wuxian says. “Of course you will.”

The next time Jiang Cheng sees Lan Sizhui is at the cultivation conference in Gusu, two months later.

The boy smiles politely but greets him as ‘Sect Leader Jiang’ again, and next to him, Jiang Cheng can feel Jin Ling wince. Lan Sizhui’s counterpart, the wildly opinionated and deeply un-Lan-like Lan Jingyi is giving him a frank, up-and-down appraisal.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you,” he says baldly. “You’re brave. Like, if Hanguang-jun hated me as much as he hated you, I just wouldn’t show up. You couldn’t pay me to show up.”

“Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui says at length.

“No, I know. I’m just saying. Young Mistress,” he adds, sweeping into a deep, performative bow in front of Jin Ling, “if you’ll come with me, your presence is earnestly awaited by Young Master Ouyang in the library pavilion.”

“Shut up, Jingyi, I swear,” Jin Ling snaps, but he lets himself be herded away with only a single worried glance back at his uncle.

Lan Sizhui is gazing up at Jiang Cheng with a complicated expression. Even though the explosive anger of that disastrous dinner doesn’t seem likely to make a reappearance, there is still something troubled in his eyes.

“I wanted to apologize, shushu,” the boy says slowly. “Properly, that is. For the way I spoke to you last time.”

Ah. So the stiffness isn’t born of lingering irritation, but worry. These Lans, Jiang Cheng thinks, with significantly less venom than he’s used to thinking of the Lan sect with.

He has a well of patience for his nephews that has never run dry. Jin Ling has stretched it nearly to the limit, more than once, but it will take Lan Sizhui more than one emotional outburst to come even close. Given that they’ve only been family (for given value of the word) for a short while, it makes sense that Lan Sizhui wouldn’t know that.

“It wasn’t you that I was angry with, not really,” Lan Sizhui says, explaining when Jiang Cheng has already largely guessed. “I know that you care about baba in your own way, even if a-die doesn’t think so. But—there are—”

His young face folds in frustration, less remarkably than Jin Ling’s does when he’s having a snit, but just a creased forehead speaks volumes in this repressed sect.

“There are other people. Who say similar things. And they don’t mean it the way you mean it.”

Jiang Cheng knows that. He attended those meetings, too.

“And let me guess,” he says, “my idiot brother doesn’t want you speaking up for him.”

Lan Sizhui’s mouth twists. “He says that he did horrible things, and those people are well within their rights to feel about him however they want to feel about him. But—he did good, too. He protected my clan, even though he had to do it alone. I don’t remember very much,” he goes on, slightly quieter, “but I know that he made the Burial Mounds a warm and safe place for me. I know that I never felt scared or cold or hungry when I was there with him. And I don’t think most people could have done that.”

Jiang Cheng boxes up the involuntary pain that swells into place at the poking of this half-healed wound, and gives himself a moment to organize a reply. Talking to the mind-healer his chief physician recommended to him has helped a lot, not that he’ll give that smug witch the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Wei Wuxian hurt a lot of people, but so did everyone else,” he says when he’s certain he can say it without losing his composure. “We were at war. None of us are blameless. He was just the most convenient scapegoat. He still is.”

Lan Sizhui’s eyes are bright with vindication. He was born a Wen and raised a Lan, but there’s a streak of Jiang in there, too, Jiang Cheng thinks with pride. It’s that love that Jiang Cheng recognizes, the same kind of love that he and jiejie and Wei Wuxian had cultivated between them since they were children—the vicious, untamed kind of love that marches to war and claws its way up from hell and clings too hard to things it rightly should let go of.

“It isn’t fair,” Lan Sizhui says.

“No,” Jiang Cheng allows. “It isn’t.”

Wei Wuxian waves animatedly at Jiang Cheng from across the room, even though it makes Lan Qiren scowl at him. It’s reminiscent of every single stuffy banquet they had to sit through as kids, making faces at one another when Madam Yu’s eyes were turned away.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes in return, and Wei Wuxian lights up like he’s been handed a pile of gold. Lan Wangji gazes at him with a tenderness that would be absolutely absurd if Wei Wuxian didn’t actually deserve every scant inch of it that got sent his way, and even though the entire cultivation world is waiting, he spares a moment to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear.

Sect Leader Yao scoffs, a bit too loudly. “Shameless upstart.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes turn so sharp so fast that it promises violence.

Before he can say anything that starts another war, Jiang Cheng turns fully around in his seat.

“Problem?” he asks shortly.

Baffled, Sect Leader Yao’s gaze skates around the room for a moment before landing back on Jiang Cheng.

“If you have something to say about my brother,” Jiang Cheng says, his voice a snarl, zidian sparking on his arm, “say it so that I can hear you.”

“Ah, this meeting is off to such a lively start,” Wei Wuxian says into the ominous stillness of the room. “Shidi, you’re so energetic, why don’t you kick things off?”

It would be the first time in his career that he’s the first to speak at a conference. Openly disbelieving, Jiang Cheng looks from his brother to Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji’s eyes are narrowed, but not as though he’s sizing Jiang Cheng up for a coffin, which is how he usually sizes him up. All he does is tip his head incrementally, conceding the floor to him.

Gods. It’s that simple.

“You are really not a difficult person, are you?” Jiang Cheng says aloud.

“No,” Lan Wangji agrees, this force of nature who turned the world upside down and challenged every single person in it, who would do so again and again and again, just to be able to sit there and hold Wei Wuxian’s hand.

And then, in the closest the two of them have ever come to an understanding, Lan Wangji adds, “Neither are you.”

#mo dao zu shi #the untamed #yunmeng shuangjie #jiang cheng #wei ying #lan sizhui #mdzs #wangxian #my writing #mdzs fic

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dansnaturepictures · 2 years ago

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28/10/2022-Part 2 of 2: Lakeside evening walk and bits at home

Following on from my previous post, with the clocks going back at the weekend tonight was the last of my Friday evening Lakeside walks in addition to a lunch time one this year this evening as my early finish at work that facilitates it will be close to darkness and then at and after it falls for a bit as the weeks go on. The walk was a perfect ending to another fantastic year of these. At lunch time whilst working from home I usually ensure I get at least half an hour of fresh air they often become 45 minutes or more of my lunch hour. Due to other things the Friday evening walks this year have mostly all been within half an hour and it amazes me just how much I can see across the year in that time. From blossom on one of my early editions of these walks this year to mushrooms and autumn leaves on tonight’s, from inspiring and year defining butterfly sightings of my first Large Skipper of 2022 and Purple Hairstreak, to cracking summer views of a Coot and hot summer days allowing for memorable photos; these walks this year have been amazing for me and I shall miss them.

One of the best things about these walks for me are the peaceful entry into the weekend to have some calm after finishing work to ease into the weekend. And tonight had that so well, perfect in the enjoyable walk in the lowering sun evening walks I just love taking being out in these conditions seeing that sweet and precious light that is extremely beautiful. Seeing the pine trees lit nicely in the lowering sun was a sight this day had last year too which I really enjoyed tonight. This could become a scene I associate with this moment in a year. I took the second, fifth, sixth, seventh and tenth pictures in this photoset of views tonight there were nice frizzy cloud scenes too which I enjoyed at home before as well. I did enjoy seeing some lovely little mushrooms in the eastern meadows where I had this walk which the eighth and ninth pictures in this photoset shows. A lovely moment with a Robin and another butterfly after lunch time’s Small White were great sightings on the walk I saw the butterfly quickly in the well vegetated eastern meadows I couldn’t quite tell which it was either Peacock or Red Admiral. The thistle in the third picture in this photoset another straggling flower seen today on the green outside Lakeside and many glorious coloured red rose hips in the sunlight including the ones in the fourth picture in this photoset were great plant sightings tonight with the reeds in the eastern meadows seen well too. I liked seeing Jackdaws flying over and calling from home as we headed towards evening.

It was something of a lull in autumn leaf photos today with a lot of them blown off but I enjoyed some at Lakeside tonight especially still, and I loved seeing the tree visible from my room that goes nice and yellow in the autumn in the first picture in this photoset looking stunning in the delicious afternoon sun today it’s interesting it has a few red leaves at the top this year too. I hope you all have a nice weekend.

Full Wildlife Sightings Summary for today: Two of my favourite birds the Jay and Great Crested Grebe, Mallard, Coot, Moorhen, Greylag Geese, Black-headed Gull, Magpie seen well, Jackdaw, Woodpigeon, Feral Pigeon, Starling hearing them well out the back today too, Goldfinch looking great in trees out the front tonight, Robin, Dunnock, Wren, possibly a Grey Wagtail at the brook, Small White, the other butterfly, Grey Squirrel, some nice little spiders in the area by Monks Brook and carpet beetle, spider, moths and grey silverfish at home. Solely heard today: Green Woodpecker and a tit species I believe.

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random-tinies · 4 years ago

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Crowza - 1

I’ve had this AU idea sitting in my brain for a while and I’m going to turn it into a full-on fanfiction series. I’ll be tagging it as Crowza AU Here is Chapter 1 💙 No trigger warnings for this one. ^^ just good fluff. ft. Mumza as Lady Death, 1.6k words

Previous (N/A) | Next

. .

There truly is no proper comparison to flying. Sure you can describe the feeling, you can say it's like swimming in freedom, but it will never compare to actually flying.

Philza thinks about this as he soars through the air, wind blowing through his primary feathers. Occasionally he flaps, defying the gravity that tries to pull him back down to earth. He takes a breath of fresh air, relishing the way it chills his lungs. If it weren't for his cloak and his feathers, he would be quite cold this high above the ground. Especially in early spring.

Although it's early April, occasional drifts of snow still dot the landscape below him as the birdman flies north for the summer. Twice a year, he makes this migration, and although it may be warmer in the southern areas, Phil enjoys the northern pine forest he calls his summer home. It's special to him for three reasons.

Kristin, his home, and his boys.

First things first, however. He needs to stop by his cache and see if it had been raided by squirrels while he was gone. Or if anything fresh is caught in his traps. Nasty buggers, always giving him grief. Troublesome creatures. Phil banks left and dives down towards a thick old oak tree with winding and twisted branches. He lands on one, bird feet gripping with sharp claws, and hops down to where his stash should be.

Near the center of the tree, the branches arch and wind themselves together in such a way that it forms the perfect shelter for someone his size. It had taken him a good century to help the young tree grow in such a way, but it gives him the perfect shelter year after year so every painstaking day of tying young branches was worth it.

Phil looks around to make sure he's not being watched before hopping inside. One can never be too careful when your cache is involved. His wings fold behind him as he walks forward, ducks under a large branch, and enters his storage room. A quick scan confirms that nothing found his home this winter and he relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief and grabbing some squirrel jerky to munch on.

It had been a long flight and he wants nothing more than to just flop on his bed and take a short nap, but he has two homes to visit first. His wings seem to ache in protest but he steps back outside and takes off into the sky once more.

A few strong flaps put him in the air and he soars the short distance it takes to get to his boys' cabin. He can see it from the top of his tree, it is an easy flight. He notices the youngest of the three outside chopping firewood and decides to land on the roof some ways above him. The sky is overcast enough that his silhouette looks just like a rather large crow.

The movement catches the boy's eye and he looks up, putting a gloved hand up to his face to try and shield his eyes from the bright white cloudshine. He squints and yells up at what he assumes is the same bird he's been seeing for years now, "Oi! Good to see you! Took your sweet time this year!"

Phil shuffles his wings and scoffs quietly. He's right on time. He always shows up to his Lady's forest on the same day every year. He watches his boy fondly as he continues to talk to himself, quieter now as he hefts the axe to chop another log in half. "Y'know, Wilbur thinks you're a crow but I think you're too big to be a crow. Plus I don't think crows can live as long as you have."

Phil sits down on the peak of the roof, legs still under him in case he needs a speedy escape. He listens to the peaceful sounds of a quiet life. A cold chill on the breeze, shadows crossing the ground as clouds moved through the sky, the occasional birdsong reaching their ears, the thunk of the axe as it chops through the wood.

The door to the cabin opens and Phil tenses, ready to fly off if attention is directed to him. He’s a little close to it and it could be a risk if whoever steps out decides to look up at him. While he loves these boys, if they find out he isn’t a crow then he’d never be able to return and watch them again.

A tall brunette steps out and calls to the blonde, “Hey, Tommy, when you’re done out here, could you come inside? Techno got a letter and we need to discuss it together, as a family.”

Tommy nods and sets down the axe. He nods towards the roof. “Hey, Wilbur, your crow friend is back. Silent as always.”

Whelp! Time to get out of there! Phil immediately takes off, flapping hard and flying over the boys’ heads. His silhouette is even harder to recognize as anything other than a crow as he soared away. Wilbur says, “Oh yeah, there it is, just like every year. You reckon he likes us?”

Whatever Tommy replies, Phil doesn’t hear it. He’s too far away, heading towards where Kristin lives in the forest. The landscape below him becomes denser and darker, the pines twisting and behaving oddly. Branches bend lower and often twist together. Crow caws are more frequent and a few join him as he flies towards his destination.

“Dadza!”

“Philza! It’s been so long!”

“Return of Dadza! Dadza! We missed you!”

Phil chuckles, striking up casual conversation with them, telling them stories of his travels. He does this every year when he returns from migration. Some of the murder follow him south during the winter but let him visit his boys alone. They prefer to stay with their lady, and Phil doesn’t blame them. He’d stay with her all the time if he was allowed.

At last they reach Kristin’s home. The murder descends and a few part ways to fly in through the open window. Phil smiles as he lands on a doormat that reads “On Death’s Door” and chuckles at the inside joke as he uses the tiny knocker built at the bottom just for him. The door opens and the most beautiful woman in all of history looks down at him with a fond smile. “And who would this be, knocking at my door?”

She wears a long black dress that graces her curves breathtakingly. Dark brown hair flows off her shoulders like a waterfall of shadows. Her voice is like the sound of windchimes in a gentle breeze, enveloping Phil in its peace. Even if his feet are rooted to the ground, his heart soars with joy. She is his everything and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Phil takes his hat off and bows to her, wings spread. When he looks up, she leans down and extends a hand towards him to step up onto. “You know I’d never miss an opportunity to have a brush with Death.”

His grin widens as she gives him a withering look. “You’ve said the same joke for the last five decades.”

“And you’ve said the same response for the last four decades.”

He laughs and balances himself as she lifts her hand. He bows his head as she presses a kiss to the top of his head, blush dusting his cheeks. The kiss of Death, if you will. Even if they’ve been together for forever, he’ll never get over these little moments. Coming back from his winter migration is his favorite part of the year.

Phil’s feathers ruffle and he places his hat back on his head. Nobody can make him feel as light as she can. She strokes his feathers and asks him about his flight, letting him perch on her hand. He tells her about the herd of deer he passed who had two fawns among them and the pack of wolves he heard while roosting one night.

She listens attentively to his words and pours him a small cup of tea. Phil could never express his love for her in the right way but he knows she understands. Their mob settles around them and drinks in every word, occasionally adding their own and squabbling amongst themselves. This is his family as much as his boys in their cabin are. He feels peace, drinking the bittersweet tea in his tiny cup.

A younger crow hops up and leans against Phil and preens his wings.

“Mumza! Mumza and Dadza!”

“Puppies! We love to see it!”

“Can we go visit them? I want to hear them!”

“Shiny ring… Phil, what about your boys?”

Phil hums and Kristin snaps her fingers. “I almost forgot! I meant to warn you, but the air is different this year. I’m not quite sure what’s going on, but I’ve felt more death in these areas than before. A few of my crows have gone missing.” She pets down his back, smoothing his feathers. “Be careful. I don’t want you to be among them, okay?”

He gives her his best reassuring smile and says, “You know me, Kristin. I never let anything happen to me. How many years have I managed to escape death?”

She chuckles. “Many times, though there have been some close calls. Just watch out. There are fates worse than death, my love.”

He bows his head. “Of course, my lady. I’ll keep an eye out.”

The rest of the night goes smoothly. New crows that followed Phil there introduce themselves to Lady Death and join their flock. By the time the fire in the fireplace dies down, the two are fast asleep in her bed, snuggled together and dreaming of a happy future.

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aphrodite-would-be-proud · 4 years ago

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Anon said: Could you do the duck pond headcannons with Armin and his s/o? hes just so sweet and I know that boy must have a soft spot for ducks...🦆🦆🦆

Feeding the ducks with Armin

{ Armin x reader | tw:none | fluff | modern }

{ "Enten" 1909 by Alexander Koester 1864-1932 }

The thing about Armin is that he's really good at keeping going.

No matter how stressful life gets, how much the never ending work piles up, somehow he manages not only to get things done, but to keep expectations and above.

And all of that without an outside twitch or beep.

It's both a good and bad trait, since yes he gets things done but at the cost of his own self.

His mental state takes the hit, stress, overthinking, doubt and anxiety.

And he learned how to break the cycle, how to soothe his own worries away and to respect his own needs.

He learned to never ignore the signs, to always step back and take a break whenever he notices them. For if he ignored them, things would only get worse, the key to soothe them away is to acknowledge them first.

He needed a break, and that wasn't up for debate in his mind.

And so one day, on an especially lazy weekend morning, as he snuggled closer to you for warmth under the cozy blanket, he seemed to be...looking to say something.

A trip to the nearby park is what he suggested, just you and him sitting near the pond under the cool breeze.

How could you say no to those puppy eyes looking at you like you held the stars, or the way some strands of his messy hair were standing up?

Especially his soft spoken words just right against your neck, warm breath ghosting over skin.

Calling you sweetheart as he hugged you closer from behind, saying how nice it would be to get some fresh air today, how much he'd love to take you to relax near the water and maybe feed some ducks.

How soft the grass would feel below your skin as you basked in the warm sun.

Ending it with a remark on how stressful life was lately, how much he missed spending time with you.

Light kisses trailing up your neck, reaching right below your ear.

How much he needed you.

...

how could you ever say no? It'd break your heart to refuse him something when he's like this.

It's almost like he planned for it.

Although whatever theory your brain was working out about how Armin seemed to always end up getting his way in these situations, was quickly tossed away when you saw his smile, making it all worth it.

He kept saying thank you between each soft kiss he gave you.

Excitement clear in his voice as he hugged you even closer, tangling your legs together.

And so, when the wind picked up as the warm afternoon sun arrived, both of you were already settled on a good spot near the pond at the park.

Sitting on a stripey yellow and white sheet, wearing matching sun hats while sharing a plate of fruits, crackers and cheese.

His hand occasionally caressing yours without a word, just tangling your fingers together for a few seconds before pulling away so he can feed you some grapes.

You can see that he felt...at peace.

Like his worries went away the moment he stepped near the pond and heard the flapping of birds and ducks.

Some frogs were taking a nap in the muddy spots near the water cliff, basking in the cool shade the tall grass provided them.

You're pretty sure you saw a couple ladybugs crawling up Armin's arms, although he didn't seem to notice or feel them.

Maybe because he was still a bit shaken from the squirrel jumping on his hair before stealing some of his food and scurrying away.

Afterwards he didn't take his sun hat off no matter how many times you reassured him no squirrels were targeting his hair.

Neither of you brought anything beside food and some utensils with you, much preferring to just...sit together and talk.

Watch the still water, chat about whatever comes to mind, say the most cheesy lines you could think of, and despite how cliche they were, they still earned you a smile and a blush from Armin.

Yeah some of his lines made you giggle, while others got your heart beating again as he perked up from your reactions.

Time flew by, both of you too occupied with each other to notice the clouds passing by and sky slowly turning orange.

Somewhere along this, as he was entranced by a story you were telling him, a high pitched quick interrupted you mid-sentence.

Looking below, a black and yellow feathered duckling stood, tiny wings spread as it quacked at you again.

"You came to say hi little buddy?" Said Armin

The duckling opened its peak, taking the string of Armin's shoelaces and pulling on it like it's a worm.

He must be hungry, you told Armin who nodded Before reaching to the basket beside you.

The fact he even came prepared with some bird seeds and defrosted peas, would've surprised you if you were someone else.

But you knew him well, how much effort and thought he puts in even the smallest of details just because he truly cares.

Asking to open your hand, he poured some of the seeds in your palm.

The duckling cautiously waddled closer, observing your hand before pecking it, nibbling as it got what can of the seeds.

And soon enough, the more quacking sounds came as the mother duck finally stepped closer after observing from a far for a while, the rest of her ducklings trailing after.

Deciding to pour the rest of the food for them on the ground since there's only so much cuteness to numb the feeling of ducks pecking your hand while eating.

That day you and Armin made a small family of ducks very very happy and full of aots, peas, corn and bird seeds.

Afterwards Armin made sure to press his cold soda against your palm to soothe the slight tingling pain, asking if you're okay and fretting just like the mother duck who checked each of her children before jumping in the water.

As a compromise, he held your hand close on the way home before buying you some of your favourite snacks from a corner store as a silent apology.

And just like that, after a full day of spending it with you, the most precious person to his heart in this world, Armin felt like he can go back to facing the daily life struggles with a new sense of strength.

You are a huge source of his strength after all, and it's on days like these when he realises how much you can affect him just by sitting with him near a pond.

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echantedtoon · 1 month ago

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Demonstober Day 15 Pixie

A supernatural being in folklore and children's stories, typically portrayed as small and humanlike in form, with pointed ears and a pointed hat.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

The day was beautiful this morning.

Yes.

An absolute picture perfect scene for what could very much be a good day. Nothing in the world to worry about. Nothing to do. Just peaceful quiet and nature.

"Hey! Wake up! Your breakfast is ready."

A chuckle was heard followed by a soft yawn. Your peaceful slumber had been disturbed by the sounds of a distant voice as it called out to you. Eyes slowly blinking awake from darkness allowing tired f/c orbs to see the green underside of your blanket thanks to having your head buried under the covers. Only to have your warmth disturbed by the calling of a distant voice.

"I can see you moving around! Come on, Y/n. Wake up already!"

A mixture of a groan and chuckle escaped your mouth quickly turning into a yawn. Arms and spine stretched over and out pushing the covers to the side as you turned on your side to face the person in the room.

"There you are!"

A pair of beautiful pink eyes blinked kindly at you as a smile sweetly encouraged you to get up. You stared at the woman before you before you yawned again before rubbing your eyes with a grumble.

"Good morning to you too."

"Aw. Don't be like that. My sisters will be coming by later today for a visit. You don't want to still be in bed when they're here do you?"

"Do I have the choice of just sleeping in and avoiding them?"

A chuckle ran out of your girlfriend's throat before shaking her head no. "Nope. Now get up! Breakfast is ready and I won't let it go cold."

Footsteps thudding in the house as you grumpily watched her leave before Groaning and plopping face first back into your pillow. You hated mornings...but knowing that your girlfriend would only come back to bug you again until you did get up, you reluctantly pulled yourself up off the bed throwing the blankets off of you and stood to your feet. Yawning and stretching out your back before heading off to get dressed and make your hair not look like an absolute rats next.

It took ten minutes because you took your sweet time before trudging back into your kitchen and sitting at the table. Your girlfriend having her back towards you.

"Hey. What's for breakfast?"

A double pair of dragonfly like wings twitched, but they were too large to belong to a small dragonfly as they fluttered from her back. Your girlfriend turned around to you with a smile and a second later holding up a pan. Eggs and bacon were displayed on the inside.

"Bacon and eggs!"

"Sounds delicious! Thank you!"

No one would ever believe you if you told them that a house pixie made you breakfast. Let alone that you were in a relationship with one. You met her when you moved into your home four years ago. At first you thought your house was haunted. Things would be moved around, sometimes if you needed to get a chore done you'd go do it only to discover it was already done, and sometimes you'd catch glimpses of someone out of the corner of your eye. It was only when she noticed you were getting freaked out that she revealed herself.

Now you were shocked that a house pixie was living with you..but you'd DEFINITELY take a pixie over a ghost.

She was so pretty! And kind! And sweet! It wasn't a wonder you two became fast friends and a year and a half later partners. You smiled widely as she placed a plate in front of you and made a mental note to make her favorite dinner in return tonight.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #Demonstober #kanae x reader #kanae kocho #kny kanae

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laceswan · 2 years ago

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Chapter 4: Moonlit Mystery

Tonight was the night. They had been watching closely for a while now, and it was clear that there was something going on. Storm clouds had covered the sky all day long, and just around midnight, they finally began to clear. The moon was high and full, shining an ever so subtly golden light on the castle. Even with still winds, December’s chill ran through the air. A layer of fresh snow veiled over the forest floor and barren trees. Yvette quietly made her way from the Ravenclaw tower to the outside grounds, where she found the others. James and Sirius were waiting to go, quickly pulling her along with them as they explained everything. Peter was shivering, even with his thick coat, and lagging behind. “We saw Remus sneak out not long ago. If we hurry, perhaps we can catch up with him.” The four of them broke into a run. There was certainly something ahead, but it was not Remus. Even with the moon’s gentle light, there was no discernible image. So they moved closer. Soon, the forest was all that could be seen, and the way back was long gone. Peter frantically whipped his head around, looking at their surroundings. “Are we lost? Which way is the castle?” James just continued to walk. He peered around, at times whispering Remus’ name, as if afraid to provoke whatever it was they saw earlier. Something distant was whining. Perhaps the wind, but the air was still. Perhaps the birds, but no nightingales sang in this forest. And then it was louder, closer. A howl. “Wolves? There are wolves?” “No. There can’t be wolves, this isn’t where they would be. There can’t be wolves.” It sounded again, crisp and clear this time. “Well then, what is that?” ““I don’t know.” "It sounded distressed, like it got hurt or it's scared of something." Sirius moved closer to the sound, quickly followed by Yvette and James. “And we are moving toward the foreboding sound, why?” Peter was ignored. They continued forward, eventually stopping at a pond. The howls were growing closer. Something could be seen across the water. Something big and moving, perhaps even a man. Hope sparked in their eyes for a moment. Even if unlikely, all of them hoped that that was simply their friend, and then they would be able to go home. This whole debacle would be over. But things were not so simple. The figure looked as though it were a man. A very tall man, with the lankiest of legs and a narrow body that towered higher than any man could hope to stand. Not Remus.

The four stood, against trees and bushes, just watching, waiting for their friend. To move seemed a dangerous choice, seeing as such a creature was right across the frozen water. James, as much as he cared for Remus, knew that sleep would be necessary, especially with a transfiguration exam first thing in the morning. So, he leaned against the trunk of a rather tall tree and rested his eyes. Peter was cold, and as a result, using his coat as a blanket while he huddled with Yvette. She would not admit it, but she was beginning to get tired. Sirius was watching the creature intently. He wasn't even close to drowsy, too anxious to lose any focus. He knew that Remus was capable of taking care of himself, but the forest was dark and dangerous, and there was this mysterious creature on the loose. He couldn't help but stare, with a bouncing leg and twitching eye. And in a moment, something was heard a bit into the distance. Was it him? Unfortunately, Remus did not emerge from the trees. He wasn't there. Must have been a vole, maybe a raccoon moving in the overgrowth. Whatever it was, it caught the creature's attention. It stuck it's head forward, out from the dark and into the moonlight. It had a large, bony head, elongated with something of a snout. There was a thin layer of grey fur, covering the creature's narrow body. The ears were pointed downward, placed rather high on the head and a bit small. There was something strange about the appearance. It had a head like that of a dog, long, narrow, and with a distinct jaw. And yet, the neck connected to it was craning and long, as was the rest of body. It was gaunt, perhaps underfed, with skin and fur that hugged it's bones. It stood on thin, lean legs that seemed longer than they should be. And yet, in looking at it all, there was something strangely canine about it's appearance. Like some kind of deformed wolf. Sirius' eyes widened with an idea. In an instant, he turned around and drew a large breath, cupping his hands close to his mouth. Yvette was startled, and stood up immediately. "Hey, what are you doing? That thing is gonna hear you!" She said in a hushed tone. "I know." Sirius smirked a bit. He took in another breath and let the sound escape. It was his best attempt at a howl. It was soon followed by a real one. The smile of Sirius' face grew wider. "It's a wolf?" Sirius turned around and pointed to the howling creature. "Clearly not, but it's something like a wolf." "So then, where's Remus? You don't think he's-" "No. I trust him. He's stubborn, but he's not stupid." Yvette, empowered by Sirius' trust in him, felt able to trust him as well. Still, there remained the issue of the wolf-creature. Yvette and Sirius sat watching it for a little while, waiting for something, even if they didn't quite know what. And yet, nothing came. In fact, with some time the creature left, padding away, deeper into the forest. With that, they too decided to leave. Gently waking Peter and James, they headed back to the castle.

It took only days for Remus to return to normal. They had long since given up on trying to pry the truth out of him. Still, the investigation was ongoing. Nights in the library were growing more common, reading about woodland animals, wolves, and nocturnal beings. There was no way this thing, this creature was just some garden-variety animal, it had to be some magical creature. Their reading continued, night after night. And each time they left the library to go to bed, it seemed a bit more hopeless. There were moments where it was almost too much work to do all this, just to find his secrets. Perhaps they should just let him hide, keep his secrets. But then they remembered the howl. That blood-curdling howl, those knife-sharp fangs, that vicious beast was still out there. And every full moon, so was he. If he didn't know, they needed to tell him. And if he did, then they needed to reason him out of it. That thing was dangerous, and there was no way they could let their friend stay in danger like that. But in order to do so, they needed to understand it. Not just for him, but to satiate their own, now burning, curiosity. What was it? Why was it there? And how could they be safe from it? Yvette began to wonder if perhaps they had misunderstood. For many creatures in the past had been. Almost always, a creature is docile until given a reason not to be. So what if it wasn't dangerous? What if there was a way to be kind to it? To calm it, even. They could keep Remus and the creature safe. Yvette couldn't help but wonder, empathize for that creature. There had been times that night, just a few, where the creature slipped on a rock or stumbled a bit. It whined like a kicked puppy, the poor thing. It reminded Yvette that the creature was alive, it breathed the same air she did, and deserved the same kindness as all others. And it gave her courage. Courage enough to stay awake, far past when all had gone asleep. Courage enough to don a coat, scarf, and hat. She padded down through the common room, staying quiet as to not wake the others. "What are you doing?" Yvette looked back. It was Xenophilius, in his pyjamas. He was awake. "I could ask you the same question." "Yes, but I'm not the one in a coat and scarf." He had a point. "I'm going outside. For a walk." She wasn't lying, she was going outside for a walk. The location of that walk just happened to be forbidden. "I'll go with you. It's dangerous to go alone." "No, you don't have to do that." "Well, I want to now. Looking out from the tower is nice, but I think it will look even better actually out there. Don't you think?" Yvette smiled. He always had a way of turning every little thing into a pleasant witticism. She waited in the common room as he gathered a coat and other winter-wear. She could always say that she wanted to be alone, but that would be a lie. He was right, it would be dangerous alone, no matter how docile she believed the creatures of the forest to be. He came down, prepared for a walk in the winter night. "Shall we go?" The two of them quietly made their way out of the castle, with the light of the crescent moon guiding them through. Yvette led the way as they walked closer and closer to the tree line. "So... why exactly are we headed to the forest?" "Oh, well... There's just something I want to see." Xenophilius pondered for a moment. "Does the something have a name?" Yvette smiled. She knew he had an affinity for animals, but it never came to her that he would understand hers. Really, it shouldn't have been a shock. He was always like this. Understanding, warm, and with a certain something that felt so friendly. And for that exact reason, she chose to tell him. Not everything, but some. "No, but I'd like to see it. Some part of me wants to see it again. Maybe I could understand it better that way." He nodded, seemingly understanding perfectly without saying a word. He did not pry for context, just listened to what she was willing to tell him. The two of them walked into the forest, looking around mindlessly. Yvette didn't quite know when to start. So she simply wandered, hoping she'd see it. Eventually, she made her way to the small pond from before. There, they sat in wait. And in wait, in silence did they sit. They sat for a while, far too long, but Yvette stayed still. She wanted to see it again. There was a fantasy in her head that she could approach it. She could hold out her hand and slowly get closer, until she could run her hand down it's fur, she could truly meet the creature. But the fantasy seemed it would never come true. "It's been a while, perhaps we should go back?" Yvette sighed. He had said that a few times now, and it wore her down a bit more each time. She was ready. It wasn't going to arrive. Strange she thought to herself. This night was practically the same as before, and yet they didn't even hear a howl or a whimper the whole night long. Rather disappointed, she made her way back to the castle.

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