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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I feel un gran oso (shame, cringe, etc) for this, but I wanted to request a morpheus one shot hehe. I just NEED this situation to be written or something cause in my opinión its ✨✨

Based on the song Ballroom of Romance of Celtic Woman, where the reader is a human that somehow fell into morpheus grace, and as such she can enter the Dreaming every time she wants through a earring that morpheus crafted, and she wants to celebrate the Day of the Book or the day of the Librarian in honor to Lucienne, and for unknown reasons she gets permission to make a ballroom and well, a lot of dancing and a beautiful dress and Morpheus from his throne like: 🙂 (💓💓💓)

Mutual pining of course ✨

Thank you very much, have a nice day/noon/night!

Here's the song;

😊

Granny's Superstitions

Dream of the Endless x College Student!Reader

Summary: Your grandmother told you stories of how her grandmother was friends with the King of Dreams. You didn't think much of it, not even when you inherited your great-great grandmother's earrings on your 18th birthday. I mean, why would you? They did not correlate. And yet, your granny should have told you it did, so you weren't so surprised when you found yourself in the halls of the Dreaming.

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Dark post capture!Dream, fem!reader, themes of misogyny, exasperated college student!reader, reader has a potty mouth, angst, enemies to lovers(?), typos, etc.

A/N: this was an exciting request! I love that you even added a song <3 I enjoyed it very much!! The syncopation in the chorus, its UGH SAUR GOOD. Because of this, I made reader a music major, like me HIHI. I will say, this became quite a dark and angsty fic and for that 😅 im sorry ig. ALSO I CHANGED SO MUCH ABOUT YOUR PROMPT I- ASODHASFOIAHFAHSF:HASF I do hope you still enjoy it my dear T_T [CRIES] IDK WHY I DID THIS TO YOUR REQUEST AND MYSELF IT WAS THE EARRINGS I HYPERFIXATED ON IT AND EVERYTHING JUST WENT BOOM T_T this is literally escapism PS the character Tim Henson in this fic is real, he's from a band called polyphia, which I love, and you don't have to imagine him as Tim, but I sure did LOL

I was effectively buzzed by the alcohol in my blood stream, and yet no amount of booze would make the unwanted stares from my classmates ever palatable.

Had I known making an effort in dressing up would merit the reaction I got for attending this party I didn't even want to attend in the first place, then they should all be glad that I wasn't in fashion department but in music.

Yet another rando turned to me and smiled, complimenting my outfit, to which I forced out a chuckling thank you.

I don't know why they're so upset that the guy they liked thought I was hot! It's not like it's my fault I got attention I didn't want.

I huffed as I pushed the restroom door open. I wash my hands as I stare at my face in the mirror. I behold the efforts I put on painting my face, on doing and redoing my liner, on perfecting the color on my lips.

I clench my jaw tightly at the feel of tears pricking from my eyes.

I thought they were my friends, finally I had friends, and yet all it took was one guy to ruin all that.

I close the faucet and lean on sink, releasing a sigh. I look at my reflection, watching the sapphire earrings dangle by my jaw.

I scoff at myself. I wore my heirlooms for them?

"Gosh, I miss home," I say, screwing my eyes shut as I straighten myself up. I begin to fidget with the small jewels on my lobes and head for the door. "Who cares if I leave early," I pull the door open, "no one's gonna-"

My ghost leaves me and I still when I see the dark expanse of the hall. There was no way this was the room I just exited, no way it was a dark, high-fricking-ceiling hall with marble floors, and massive stained glass windows that were broken. There was no way because there was not a single piece of furniture or intoxicated student in sight, only debris.

From my frozen stance, I push my hand behind me in an attempt to catch the knob I just let go. When I turn, my heart drops when I am faced with the fact I was in the middle of an empty hall with no door in sight.

Did they drug me?

I begin to pant as I do a 360 of the area.

I choke on my spit and go reeling back when I see a dark face in front of me. I am not nearly fast enough in my movements as the man's large strides allow him to quickly catches me in his tight grip.

"How have you come here, intruder?"

His voice is impossibly loud and deep that it seemed it was spoken by the very room itself. My hands dart up to cover my ears, but his grip on my biceps prevented that.

I open my mouth to speak, but the furrow of his brows and the tension of his jaw bring render me mute.

His darkened blue eyes widen a fraction. He scoffs, "I see. You are a thief."

My brows knit at the accusation.

He steps closer, fingers digging into my flesh, "what did you wish to achieve with those earrings?"

A shiver runs down my spine and I begin to stutter.

"What did you do to its owner?" his voice demands, going an octave lower. My eyes widen when his form begins to grow larger and the room begins to darken, "did you hurt her?"

My sight begins to blur with fearful tears when his pale skin disappears into nothingness, "I never met my her! She was dead before my mother was even born!"

"What?!" his voice echoes, seemingly endlessly.

"I NEVER MET GRANNY JOSEPHINE!" I scream, "I just inherited the earrings, I swear!"

When his form begins to revert, I decide it was do or die. I break away from his grip and manage free. However, when I pull away from him, I fall on my butt and freeze at the pain. I crawl away from him as far and as fast as I can, but as much as I didn't want to, I halt when pain shoots up from my palm. I pull my hand toward me and find blood on it.

"You are her progeny," he says.

When my eyes dart back to him, he is just a man in with black hair and a trench coat.

My pulse quickens when he walks over to me.

In an act of self preservation, I grab a concrete rock nearby and throw it to him as hard and best as I can. I goes right through his form and my eyes blow wider than they already are.

I push myself back, through the pain and blood on my palms, "STAY AWAY FROM ME! I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT BUT-"

"I apologize," his voice mutters, silencing me in pure bewilderment.

I look up to the man and examine his face and his outstretched hand.

He cannot possibly believe I would take that.

I prefer the pain of pushing myself up and make sure not to break eye contact with him as I do. Once I am back to my feet, the man looks at me then the blood dripping from my fingers.

"What the fuck are you?" I shudder out, slowly backing away from him.

His eyes lift back to me and he raises his nose, "I am the King of Dreams."

My body trembles at his words. My hands shake as I chuckle in disbelief, "no way- no fucking way. My grandmother- those bedtime stories- you're-"

"Real?" he finishes for me, "as real as your blood staining my floors."

My eye twitches at his remark. I scoff, still on edge, and yet I cannot withhold the retort in the back of my throat, "you're annoyed by my blood dripping when your your filthy floor?"

The Dream king seems not to enjoy that comment and yet I could not help myself, "my blood is the least of your problems, don't you think?"

I grip my injured hand.

"Leaving unwanted traced of yourself is not good for my domain."

I raise my brows at that, "well if you didn't shapeshift and scare the living shit out of me, then maybe I wouldn't have had to crawl away from you."

"I thought you were an intruder."

"But aren't you all knowing, or some shit," I heave, "so much for a king."

"You dare insult me in my own abode right after I've scared you out of your wits?"

I dare a step forward, "well to be humbled, your majesty, for bringing me here just to intimidate me-"

"I did not bring you here," he cuts me off, diminishing the space between us.

And though my pulse was loud in my ears, I remained steadfast in my place.

His hot breath hits my face as he speaks, "you thought of the Dreaming and travelled here yourself."

I pull my face back as it contorts, "I did not think of this hellhole. I thought of home."

"Yes, and this place is a home for all who are weary."

I hum, "you mean before it crumbled to the ground."

My breath hitches at the sound of his growl, "you inherited not an ounce of congeniality from your great-great grandmother."

The way he knows how far off granny Josephine was to me really struck a chord in me. I press my lips together, "well, I'm glad to have disappointed you so soon so that you wouldn't expect anything from me."

He bellows, "mortality never loses its audacity," he brings his face down to me, making my skin rise with gooseflesh, "I would withdraw the earrings you clearly do not deserve, but out of respect to Josephine, I shall allow you to keep it," he seethes, "but for your insolence you will know how much of a king I really am."

BUZZ.

I slam my hand on my alarm and rip my heavy lids open.

I groggily groan as I struggle out of bed.

Ten days it's been since the last time I slept properly. If falling asleep wasn't the problem, then it was trying to wakeup from the horrible nightmares that plagued me.

I slam my books on my desk, making my seatmate turn to me and watch as I sit down next to him.

"Well, good morning to you too, zombie girl," Tim greets with a shit eating grin.

"I am not in the mood, you ass," I grunt, crossing my arms as I lean back on my chair.

"You haven't been in the mood for two weeks," he says, "Don't you think you should do something about it?" he leans on the table and knits his brows in concern.

I wipe my face and give an annoyed chuckle, "what can I do when I'm literally beefing with the king of dreams," I carefully word, "and nightmares."

"Poetic," he rests his hands on the back of his tattooed hand, "a true sign of insanity."

"Go fucking annoy someone else, you rat."

"Nah, if I do, you'll be lonelier than you are."

I shoot him a dirty look as he then places something in front of me.

I look at the grey packet as he explains, "sleeping pills."

I turn back to him and push the medicine away, "don't work. I've tried."

He raises a brow, "without prescription?"

"There is such a thing a over the counter drugs, Tim."

"Spoken like a true druggie."

I scoff.

He continues, "this was why I told you not to attend that snobby party. You ever noticed that ever since then, you've gotten fucked up in the brain. It's no coincidence."

"Again, thank you captain obvious," I slam my hands on the table and turn to him, feeling my head pulse in exhaustion, "and so sorry that not everyone can be a cool and popular as you."

"Why'd you even wanna make friends with them when you-"

"SHUT UP!" I scream, making the entire class turn to me. I feel embarrassment rise up my neck, and was only lucky that our teacher wasn't here yet. I sink down into my arms and bury my face as I mutter, "Enough. Enough! I get it, Tim. 'I told you so.' Geez, just get off my ass."

He calls my name, making me groan, "I'll do something about my insomnia! Just please, shut the fuck up."

"You better," he scoffs, "or else I'll plant a pea shooter in your lawn."

And so later that day, I did what I perhaps I should have the very moment after I met the Dream King.

I called my grandmother.

"Hi, granny," I smiled, holding my phone up to my face as I waved at the harshly zoomed face of my grandmother on the screen.

"How are you there?" she excitedly answers, "I'm so glad you thought to call."

I nod and chuckle, "me too, granny."

She takes a moment before responding, "you look tired. Have you been sleeping and eating well."

"Yeah, about that..."

After explaining everything to her, her voice grills the audio of my device because of how loud it is, "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO DREAM OF THE ENDLESS?!"

"Granny, that-"

"YOU MUST APOLOGIZE TO HIM AT ONCE-"

"I think we're past apologies. I have to do something more to make it up to him if I'm to ever sleep well again."

"Darn straight," she mutters in agreement, "now, oh goodness, let's see..." she sighs and wipes her face, "PIE!"

I raise a brow, "pie?!"

"My grandmother absolutely loved baking and everyone who ate her apple crumble pie adored-"

"Hello," a voice calls, making me turn to whom spoke. I see a woman with glasses walking over to me and I give an awkward smile as I raise the tray in my hand, "hi... is Dream here?" Once she is before me, she takes in my appearance then raises a finger, "ah, you're the one who inherited the Sapphire Dream Walk." "... do you mean my earrings?" "Yes. I-" "What are you doing here, girl?" I look over my shoulder and see the annoyed expression on the Dream of the Endless, as my grandmother put. "A peace offering," I release a sigh and hand him the tray, "my grandmother said that granny Josephine made you pie and you so enjoyed." The two of them only stare at me. "It's most definitely not as good-" "Lucienne, I don't have time for this," he says, turning to the woman who greeted me. Dream turns about and debris from the room begins to float up. Lucienne places a hand on my arm then gratefully accepts the tray from me, "I thank you on behalf of my master for your most generous gift."

"Yeah, that's not gonna work," I sigh, running my hands through my hair, "I did not inherit any homemaker skills."

My grandmother says my name gravely.

"What? It's true!" I shake my head, "if I did, then I would have been better off marrying a rich man," I dryly joke.

My grandmother ignores this as she suddenly says, "if your baking skills are that bad, perhaps just make an effort to eat with him every lunch."

I make a twisted face, "you want me to waste my precious free time on that emo prick-"

"Hi," I raise a hand, making Dream and Lucienne, who seemed to be getting into a heated argument, halt and turn to me. Dream scoffs, "you again." I awkwardly chuckle and rub my arm. "What? No bribe this time?" he narrows his eyes at me as he walks over. I purse my lips and twist to reveal my backpack, "I bought lunch for all of us..." There is a sound of thunder from the outside. I look away from the stalking man, finding there was even less debris now compared to yesterday, "it seems your efforts to liven up the place are-" "Silence."

"Oh, so you have a better idea?!" my grandmother quips.

"Granny, I can already imagine-"

"You said," I grip my earlobes tightly in my fingers, "you wouldn't take my earring back for the sake of Josephine." "But that was before," he presses close to me that our bodies were nearly touching, "you were turned out to be a meddlesome insect." "How is being friendly to someone who clearly needs friends meddlesome?" "Friends?" his deep voice darkly chuckles, "it is you who needs friends," his voice echoes, "you think I did not sift through your memories to verify your words? I know well the day you came here you were at a party on the pretense of making companionship," he leans in that his nose nearly touches mine, "but they turned you away, did they not?" My eyes glass at his words and my breathing grows jagged at the words he next spoke. "If your fellow mortals do not want you, what makes you think that I would?" "My lord!" Lucienne calls. I do not grant him the satisfaction of another moment of my time and will myself back to my room.

"-how bad it'll be-"

I hold up a cupcake in a plastic container to the man who was reading on his throne. "Your insolence knows no bounds, girl." "Actually, it's chocolate chip cheesecake." He eyes me darkly, slamming his book closed, "you think you can win me over with food?" "I can tr-" "It is by my own power than I am sustained," he stands and swats my cupcake away, "and by my mercy that you have not slipped into madness." I gulp as he adds, "not yet."

"-if I force myself-"

I try to contain my giggles as Lucienne and I sit on a picnic blanket I bought for today. "It's so weird to know that without him, Bach would've never finished his most famous piece, which is so gentle and sweet and-" I finish with a whisper, "unlike your boss." She sighs as her lips press into a soft smile, "you know... he's not actually that bad. He's just... going through something." I roll my eyes, "what puberty?" Lucienne shakes her head "he has been hurting for a long time." "Just because you've hurt doesn't justify the hurt you inflict on others," I mutter, "you don't have to keep defending your petty king." Dream, who had just finally fixed and tidied the last of the rubble, speaks up "you are aware there is no such thing as hushed whispers in my realm?" He turns to us and walks over with a storm cloud over his head, "every crude remark you've uttered as you stuff your face with your cheap, store bought snacks has echoed in my ears." I look up at him, opening my mouth, but Lucienne's hand grabbing mine silences me. "If you wish to insult me as retribution, then perhaps I should darken your mind more than I already have." "Dream! She has not-" "I've had enough of you as well, Lucienne," he quips, "you tell her things that is not yours to tell." "But you have withheld rest from her, my lord!" she says as she stands, "and for what? Because she told you the realm was in shambles, when it clearly was?!" "I shall heed none of your flippant words and continue to do so as I see fit."

"-to hang around him when he clearly doesn't like me!" I exclaim, already frustrated by the idea.

"Then, do something you like... together."

I release a sigh.

"Perform for him, you are a musician after all, and he is every musician's muse."

Lucienne claps as I release a sigh and allow my guitar to rest on my shoulder on its strap. "A splendid performance indeed," she smiles at me. I awkwardly thank her and turn to Dream beside her. "Pitiful that talents are wasted on a girl as unsavory as she." I shake my head and release a scoff, "aren't you tired of being an asshole?" His lips curl in disgust, "perhaps nightmares aren't enough. Maybe taking your voice-" "You think just because you're powerful and fucking old, all your actions are justified?" I remove the guitar strap and begin to put it back in its case, "I just want to sleep! And I've been making an effort to pacify you, but you're acting like a child." "I'm acting like a-" "THEN I'M ACTING LIKE A CHILD, DAMMIT," I heave, "and you are the perfect Dream of the Endless!" I get on my knees and bow to him mockingly, "none could defy his will."

"Granny, that's-"

"Oh! I've got it. I've got it! I remember. The king is absolutely fond of ballroom dances. Perhaps you can convince him to allow you to plan a dance for him."

"Granny, where would I even plan such a thing?"

"The dreaming of course," I press my lips into a smile, watching Dream's dark face eye me impatiently. "I've had quite enough of your games, girl," he snips, "first you bribe me with food, now you're trying to fool me into dancing with you." "What-" I whine, "is it going to take-" I huff, "for your petty ass to forgive me." He scoffs, "well perhaps you could start by dropping the unnece-" "But I have! I did! I tried being nice, but you do nothing but attack me." He scoffs, "and if that were true then you would not be sufferings still." "I JUST WANT TO SLEEP!" I scream, lunging at him as I grab his stupid collar, "you have NO idea what it feels like to be so tired but restless." "I think I would know-" "BUT YOU DON'T! Because you don't need sleep, or food, or anything! You are just an all powerful monster, devoid of emotions and any sense of compassion." He shoves my hands off him and I pull back as I heave. Dream tilts his head at my tear stained face with disdain. "Lucienne told me you were captured-" "It was not her place to tell you anything." "You would know what it feels like to be trapped!" I release a shudder, "or perhaps you are so caught up in your own self-pity that you will never believe anyone else can suffer, at your cruel hands, no less."

I slam my head on the cafeteria table repeatedly until I feel my forehead sting. I feel tears prick my eyes in frustration.

I just want to sleep.

"I just wanna sleep, you royal douche bag-" I whimper, "can you fucking hEAR ME-"

"Hey!" someone catches my forehead, mid head bang, and I crane my neck up to see the worries and breathless face of my classmate, "where have you been? I haven't seen you at lunch in forever."

I groan and straighten up, just to slump down on my chair and rub my eyes in frustration. "I'm so fucking tired, Tim."

"Yeah, no shit," he says, right as the sound of a chair being dragged back fills my ears, "you look like shit."

I let out a whimper, unable to withhold the tears from my eyes, "you think I don't fucking know that?"

I break down against my palms, incapable of keeping my emotions in anymore. Tim stiffens at the sight and lets out a string of curses before placing a hand on my shoulder, "I didn't mean to-"

"Look, if you're here to annoy me too, just leave, Tim."

"What?"

I rip my hands away and look at him with my wet eyes, "I don't know why you're here, but just leave!"

He scoffs, "you don't know why I'm here?" He crosses his arms, "well maybe because I'm worried about you?! Because we're friends?!"

"..."

His brows furrow, "how's that, asshole?"

"... we're... friends?"

Tim's face twists, "are you fucking stupid for real?"

I don't get to reply as my name is suddenly called. I turn to my side and feel my blood still at the face before me.

"You called me," Dream says, turning from me to Tim, "are you in trouble?"

I still and turn between the two, as an incredulous chuckle leaves my throat, "now hold on," I scoff, "hold on just a damn second."

Dream turns back to me and I peer up at him, "are you trying to tell me that you came here because you thought I called you and that I was in some sort of trouble."

"You did call me," he mutters, completely ignoring the rest of what I just said, "I am not one to lie."

Tim turns to me as I laugh. His face is warry as when I stand from my seat. The serious expression Dream's face disturbs me and I chuckle yet again.

"I'm so sorry," I place a hand on my chest, "where are my manners? I should introduce you two first: Tim, Dream, Dream, Tim," I turn to the latter, "you wanna know where I go at lunch? This is the Dream Lord I've been duking it out with every time."

Tim rises from his seat, grabbing my arm.

It seems, Dream does not take kindly to this and shows it by stepping close to the man. As Tim turns to the glaring Dream, I scoff and push the Endless to face me, "you're insane. Aren't you?"

Tim speaks my name softly.

"No," I turn to Tim, "he's the reason why I can't sleep because I questioned his kingliness or some shit-" I snap back to Dream, "in fact I'm so fucking tired I don't remember why you've been giving me nightmares in the first place."

"Okay, calm down," Tim tugs me towards him as he repeats my name, "we should just go to my place now and have lunch there."

"And who are you to take her anywhere?" Dream demands, making Tim's face contort in anger.

"I'm her actual friend, dipshit."

"Except she doesn't have any friends."

Tim snorts in annoyance, "as I'm sure you've been gaslighting her to believe."

With that, we walk away from Dream, even though I was so ready to lunge at him. Tim gave me an absolute earful about something, not that I actually listened. But still, even as his words entered one ear and out the other, I still cringed at the severity of his harsh but concerned tone.

Out of spite of myself, I told him I would skip the rest of my classes and sleep the entire day. After arguing about it, Tim eventually walked me back to my home and I punished myself by actually trying to go to sleep.

You have no idea how shocked I was when it worked.

I didn't realize I was sleeping because I was suddenly in a glimmering black dress.

Lucienne came running over to me with a wide smile, "You did it! You did it, dear, you did it!"

"What?"

"You've put sense into that old fool's head," she grabs my face, "and convinced him to throw a ball in honor of the reconstruction of the Dreaming."

"Wait," I shake my head, "so I'm-" I grip my earlobes and find only the smoothness of my skin, "dreaming?"

Lucienne beams at me as tears glass my eyes.

"Now, is not the time for sadness," she sighs, grabbing my hands, "today we celebrate!"

Seeing all sorts of beings dancing and making merry in the grand halls with such festive and upbeat music made it hard to resist. Of course I was reluctant and in denial. It was all happening so quickly, But when I was drawn into the middle of the room by Lucienne, who linked her arm in mine, and started spinning around, I couldn't help but laugh and dance with her.

My spirit is livened by the sound of the fiddles and the sweet voice singing to the music.

By the time the chorus comes along, I am relaxed and try to hum along with the music as Lucienne and I giggle at how poorly we were dancing.

I am promptly halted when the arm linked in mine pulls away and I slam into a firm dark chest.

I grip on a pair of biceps and tilt my head up. Dream he looks down at me with an expression I have never seen before.

I pull away quickly, but he catches my wrist, "it was your idea to have a dance," he leads me back near to him, "might you share one with me?"

I'm surprised he actually waits for my response. And so I reluctantly nod my head.

The moment I do, he does the weirdest thing. His lips curve upwards and he spins me to the beat of the music.

All the stiffness and unwillingness begins to melt away as Dream leads me to the music. Though his gaze on me is heavy and scrutinizing, I cannot bring myself to look away.

"It really took a man showing his concern for me for you to finally change your mind," I mutter.

"No," he readily denies, "it was you who made me change my mind."

I roll my eyes, "but it took Tim to set the wheels in motion."

He shakes his head, "you truly could not be farther from your great-great grandmother."

I huff, unable to understand him, "she must have meant a lot to you."

"She did," he pauses for a moment, "she was the gentleness to my indifference."

"So, what? Is this the part where you tell me you're my great-great-granddaddy?"

He spins me around and presses his chest against my back, "if Josephine were here, she would be horrified to know how filthy her daughter's lips are."

"I'm not her daughter..." I mumble, feeling my pulse rise at our proximity, "I'm her great-great-"

Dream spinning me cuts me off. When he retrieves me by my waist, he softly tells, "you were right. I have been cruel and devoid of emotion."

Our dancing comes into a stop as he willingly admits this.

"My own hurt and the unjust expectations I had of you to act like someone you are clearly not is what lead me to be so," he mutters with a solemn expression, "it does not make it right, and it is not an excuse, but I wanted to tell you this."

My brows furrow tightly at his words. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"I apologize for my wrongdoings. I do not enjoy what I have become, and I know I am disgracing the memory of my friend for being so brutal to her child."

I feel a shiver run down my spine. In pure disbelief, I grab his face, "are you seriously Dream of the Endless?"

His teary eyes crinkle in amusement and it causes me further bewilderment, "I am."

When he places hands on my wrists so gently, I feel goosebumps form on my arms.

"You are so familiar yet so foreign to me all at once."

I pull away from him, not knowing what to say.

Just then, the music ends and everyone but us breaks into applause.

When another song plays, I press my lips and extend my hand out to him, "how about another dance?"

Tim was lying on the other side of a cafeteria table, while I was sat opposite to him as I typed away on my laptop. He was playing on his electric guitar connected to his tiny, rechargeable amp, which was propped on the table. His nonchalance while expertly riffing made passersby stop, watch, and swoon. Typical Tim. He sits up just as I turn back when I hear my name get called. A small smile finds my lips as I greet my caller, "Dream. What are you doing here?" "It's lunch time and you have not come to the Dreaming yet." Dream catches the fact that I was not wearing my earrings, just as I chuckle, "and why would I go to the Dreaming?" Tim had already straightened up and stopped playing at this point. I shake my head and shrug, "I'm not going to pretend like I didn't go to you to convince you to stop my nightmares. And now you've gotten rid of them, I won't bother you." I examine Dream's expression, but there was nothing to examine, he was as still as a statue. "You don't have to worry about me. You can do your work in peace now," I nod and turn back to my laptop. Tim's eyes widen at what he hears and he decides to just lie back down and play again. I stop myself in the middle of typing to steal a look behind me in case Dream was still there. When I found no one, I pushed the thought of him away and finished my homework.

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smieska-draws · 2 years ago

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Hello. How are you and your health? Well... in general... I wanted to ask a few questions. 1 - When did you learn to draw and why did you want to do it? 2 - What are your favorite hobbies? 3 - When did you get to know Undertale and Deltarune? 4 - What are your favorite characters of these two games? 5 - How do you feel about such ships as Asrisk and Krilsei?

oh butts I only just saw this ;0;' sorry for the delay!

I'm doing alright, 'cautiously optimistic' is more like it...!

1 - I've always been attracted to making things and seeing how things are made. I remember always looking in awe as a kid when my dad would open up the VHS player to clean it and he would show me how it worked.

So naturally, I kinda just always stuck with drawing because I loved reading comics, I would doodle in class, flipbooks, all that good stuff. I started "taking it seriously" (ex: became obsessed with digimon) at like.. 13 or something, as you do. I lived in the middle of nowhere in the 2000s with primitive internet so I had to teach myself how to draw. I remember constantly taking out the only book on artist anatomy in the library several times.. deviantart tutorials were starting to pop up so mid 2000s there were some of those... But it was pretty much just through observation and making my friends pose for me while I drew lol (I have a whole can of worms about that but oop i won't rant)

2- Bringing back the 'creating of things', I low key scold myself everytime I get invested in a new craft. I really wish crafts were more appreciated instead of it being seen as an old lady or kid thing.. So I enjoy a lot of crafts!!! Sewing, embroidery, painting, MAKING paint, making paper/bookbinding, beading, crocheting, stained glass, cooking/baking, so many damn things. My absolute favourite types of videos to watch are the 'making sculptures out of trash', or restorations (paintings, consoles or old things) just.. HNG. CREATING STUFF AND SEEING HOW THERE'S MADE. AAA 😔👌

3 - When it initially blew up lol it came out in September 2015, I was visiting back home and just enjoying autumn, but my tumblr dashboard was getting inundated with two cartoon skeletons and something about spaghetti? So in October I went back to my apartment and thought 'huh ok lets give it a shot i guess', BAM. heart full, tears wept. Gote boi hugged.

Deltarune was more of a surprise lol Since that day before halloween in 2018, the undertale twitter was being cryptic so I thought it was going to be a Gaster reveal or something. Nope, he just ... dropped a whole ass game on halloween. Amazing. I remember zooming home in the rain after work to play it. I thought it was a troll by Toby, like he saw all the endless AUs being made and decided as a joke he'd make his own AU. But... the game kept going and I thought, 'ok this is too elaborate to be a prank omg' ALSO, seeing Ralsei all cloaked up and mysterious, i sus'd him out IMMEDIATELY (mainly because my fav is Asriel and YOU KNOW the first thing i did was hug Ralsei because i cried like a baby in undertale) The one thing I wanted from undertale was for Asriel to be by your side and supporting you (instead of being a sneaky soulless flower) and HELL YEAH I GOT MY WISH. AAAA

5 - meh I've never been a shipper of any kind. Even when I have 2 characters do a thing together that people immediately go 'OMG HAVE THEM KISS' i'm just like '??? no ??? they're very close friends, are they not allowed' idk idk i feel like i'm on the outside of things like that. I personally despise labels and I just like to play with characters and their different personalities, stories and stuff. Its like playing in a sandbox.

#smii tries not to rant

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xyntix · 3 years ago

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Back slightls obssessing about soulmate aus and hanahaki desease and there is wayyy too little hanahaki and soulmate Aus out there for certain fandoms. As much as I love fluff and happy endings I just need heartbreak and death in such pieces if writing every once in a while (I have yet to write anythibg with a happy ending). Sooo I am writing a little something for the tmnt, leo x reader . Prepare for a possibly sad ending. Will see how it goes in the writing process. Also don't be afrair, post your unedited first drafts >:3

Also how do I verify my email? Idk what I am doing wrong as it is self explanatory and simple but I almost managed to lock myself out of my account trying to verify my email... Yay incempetence

Moving on,... Beware of spelling mistakes. They might jump at you if you are a very well-read person.

Tmnt 2021 Leo x reader hanahaki desease

Trigger warning: blood and all the about to die stuff, trauma, angst? Idk

_____________________________________________

(Y/n) woke up to a burning sensation in their lungs. How many nights have they woken up to that already? They lost count. Their mind was racing, their body tense as their heart was beating too fast for their liking. Their body acted as if the feeling of suffocation was not already as familiar to it as breathing. No, actually breathing was becoming more unfamiliar with every passing day.

The dark spared them the sight of red droplets painting their fair bed sheets as it was being showered with beautiful blue patels. (Y/n) tried to caugh as quietly as they could to not alarm family of the terrible condition they were in. Their eyes stung as tears slowly formed in the corners, threatening to spill and join the blood on the sheets. Once they managed to calm down enough , heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. A shaky hand searched for the glass filled with water on the nightstand. It was a pathetic scene, really.

Only when the cold liquid ran down their throat, they found a sliver of comfort. "Why me?" That was a question that has been asked one too many times in the dead of the night in a lonely room. (Y/n) rubbed the tear stains from their face. With a defeated sigh they got up to clean away the blue petals. Every single one was picked up with a delicate motion. As much as they mocked them, these petals were the only proof of their secret love. A secret they promised themselves to drag to the grave a long time ago.

After the evidence of their deteriorating condition was taken care of, (y/n) sat outside on the little balcony watching the city bustle despide the late hours. The chilly night air picked at their skin. (Y/n) would have ignored it if it wasn't for a familiar voice asking them if they were sure they wanted to sit out in the cold. "Hello to you too, Leo. What brings you here?" Fuck, their voice was raspy. "Just woke up huh?" The turtle mutant chuckled and patted their head. They merely nodded. It didn't take a scientist to see that they were tired. "Is anything the matter?", Leo asked with a frown. "Nope, why?", they lied, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "You look like you had a bad day." Were their eyes still red and puffy from crying earlier?! "No clue what you are talking about. It is the middle of the night. Let an insomniac look sleep deprived.", they joked. The playful giggle wanted to make them whince. "All right, my poor little insomniac.", Leo said, giving more of a teasing attitude now. If he had the slightest idea how much it hurt them. The pinching ache of the roots growing with every friendly smile he sent their way. They felt their chest tighten. It was only a matter of time until the next flowers made their way up their throat, depriving them from the sweetness of oxigen in their system. "Wanna run across some roofs with me? We haven't been doing that lately and I miss spending some quality time together with my best friend." Ouch.

"Sorry, I'd love to but I have been feeling short of breath lately. Might be coming down with something. Maybe next time?" The turtle nodded. "You let me know when you need anything."

"Will do." No they won't.

"I gotta go, on patrol. Will you visit us soon?" God, please no. "Yeah, will try to clear my schedule a bit." In the dark they could not see his blue eyes sparkle in excitement. "Great. See you then. Good night!" The leader in blue started climbing back onto the roof. (Y/n) hesitated before they called out to him. "Leo?" I love you. " Be careful."

The next day, (y/n) was on their way to the lair. Anxiety bloomed in their stomach. They didn't know how much longer they could hide it away. Being in the lair has been difficult ever since the first time the blue petals came from their lungs. It has only gotten impossibly more difficult to hide them.

All of this would have never been a problem if they just showed the soulmate tattoo to the leader. (Y/n) knew he was meant to be with them but they wanted him to choose them out of his own desire. So the tattoo was hidden under bandages and clothes and makeup at all times. The fact that Leonardo actively chose Karai over them didn't help the situation in the slightest.

Soulmates always talked about how they knew they were meant to be the moment their eyes met. Why wasn't this the same? The moment their eyes met his blue ones was as if time had no meaning anymore. All they saw was their purpose to live. His panicked state confused them at first. Was he not ready to meet them yet? Didn't he want to meet his soulmate at all? That was the first time their chest felt oddly tight. Once this misunderstanding was cleared it felt as if the weight fell off their chest the same way it came. Their progress was slow despite clicking instantly. That was until Karai showed up. After that is was only Karai. Karai this, Karai that. Karai. Karai. Karai.

"Hey, (y/n)!", the cheerful voice of Mikey echoed through the lair. A bone-braking hug following not a second later. They had not noticed they already reached their destination. This only fueled the anxiety, making them feel sick. At least that would be a change. Vomit with petals.

"Hey, nice seeing you found your way here after how many days of not showing up?", Raph's gruff voice came from the kitchen. The hot-headed turtle was feeding his pet turtle some lettuce. April and Donnie offered a greeting wave before they got lost in their conversation again. "Where is Leo?", they managed to ask as they finally escaped the death grip hug of the youngest. "Sulking in his room. Karai turned him down. Again. Who would have thought." Raph's statement was accompanied by an annoed scoff.

Oh no. Luckily the main bathroom was in the same direction as Leo's room. Y/n rushed out of the main area to the bathroom. Nobody was concerned by that behaviour and went back to what they were doing. Mikey continued his video game, Raph fed Spike and Don and April talked.

Once the bathroom door was closed, (y/n) hovered over the toilet, gripping the seat as if that was the only thing keeping them from falling. They silently choked on the red tinted peatals as they fell into the toilet. (Y/n) was always attracted to the way blood red and a vibrant blue woked so well together. But right now it only reminded them of the inevitable. Their body was aching and all they wanted to do was collapse on the cold floor and cry until the pain would finally stop. Once and for all.

"(y/n)..." The sound of his voice cut through like a hot knife. When they whipped their head around they froze. Blue eyes stared down at them as if they has just cut open their own skin. Warm blood dripped down their chin, blue petals littering the floor. How could have they forgotten to lock the god damn door?!

After another moment of stunned silence, Leo entered. His steps where careful and hesitant. As if anything he did could break them like glass.

"No, Leo...", they managed to get out. It stung. Finally anxiety got the best of them and they had to turn their head to empty not only their lungs but also their stomach. Leo could only watch in horror how the body of his best friend tensed and shook and moved as if in terrible pain. After what felt like an eternity, Leo fell to his knees and patted their back in a comforting fashion. "H-hey, it will be alright. I promise. We will find the guy who did this to you and we will fix this.", he tried to reassure them. Was he that stupid or did he not want to even concider them being his soulmate a possibility?! Whatever it was, it caused more bloody petals to paint the floor.

After another heavy coughing fit, they finally managed to look at him. Their eyes stung as tears ran down their pale face. "Are you this blind?" God, their voice sounded like they were dying. With the last of their energy they tore the bandage from their arm, revealing the tattoo. He was their soulmate? He was their soulmate!

A smile graced Leo's face only for a second before his eyes watered. He did this to them. He was a monster.

Leo embraced them in a crushing hug. His chin digging into their shoulder as his shaky voice formed words that fell on deaf ears. "I love you. I am so sorry! I love you! We can fix this. I will fix this. I promise. I am so sorry!" His rambling became a mess of sobbing and broken words.

The commotion finally attracted the rest who were equally horrified by the bloody blue petals all around them.

Yes. They were meant to be together but it would never be a healthy relationship. Seeing each other was only a reminder of what happened and what could have happened. It was a close call. (Y/n) was traumatised. Anything that put pressure on their chest sent them into a panic attack and Leo could only hate himself for it.

However, their love was beautiful after dark. When they would watch the bustling streets together. Keeping their heads filled with empty thoughts while their shoulders touched. Only then, when fresh air filled their lungs and Leo heard them breathe in the sweet cold air with a tiny smile did they have hope for themselves. Only then they thought they could heal from it, together.

#tmnt 2012 #hanahaki #soulmate #x reader #leonardo hamato

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anne-i-write · 4 years ago

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sweet love

| who would have known that the local bakery could get sebastian to show his soft spot |

sebastian moran x reader

word count: 3609

tw: sexual implications but no actual spice (mostly from sebastian’s “flirting”)

a/n: a little new years gift from me to all of you! i’m sorry it took so long to get another post up but i enjoyed writing this one! hopefully sebastian isn’t too ooc in this idk ig i just have a thing for making characters ooc but it’s very sweet and possibly tooth rotting. i also realize that i got carried away making this one and now you can read through my brain rot lol. ALSO APPARENTLY HES 6’6 THE MAN COULD ABSOLUTELY PUNT ME WHAT anyhow, i hope you all enjoy!! p.s. if you see grammatical errors and incoherent sentences, i just copy pasted from google docs lmao good luck

Sebastian grumbled under his breath, annoyed with the work that William had him do.

“‘Those who do not work in this house aren’t treated as people.’” Sebastian scoffed as he glanced over at the list. “Louis should be glad I’m on good terms with William.”

The ex-colonel should’ve been back at the estate an hour ago but he felt somewhat spiteful and decided to stay out longer. He had finished everything he needed but he had no clue what to do. It was already lunch and his stomach was silently growling but he refused to face the brothers just yet.

That was until he stopped in front of a quaint bakery with the words Fox’s Biscuits painted on a hanging sign.

“Isn’t this…” He looked at the bakery window, mouthwatering biscuits on display for everyone to see.

“These are the biscuits Father bought for me when I was younger.”

Longing for a sense of his childhood, Sebastian walked into the small shop.

In an instant, the sickly sweet smell of chocolate hit his nose and the bell above the door rang out. It was a small space but one could feel the dedication put into the little treats. “Hello?” Sebastian called out as soon as he realized he had been alone for at least two minutes.

“Just a moment!”

Crashes and clangs could be heard from behind a door that presumably led to a kitchen. You burst through the door, your apron stained with chocolate and your right cheek was covered in a light dust of flour.

Sebastian stared at you with wide eyes, not sure if he should focus on the disorderly ruin that was yourself or the absolute charm that you carried. “You have a little something—” He pointed to his cheek and your cute eyes widened a smidge.

You frantically turned around, swiping at both cheeks and turning around when you felt like you were clean. “How may I help you today?”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat when you smiled widely, his cheeks feeling a little flush. He shook his head.

“Those biscuits by the door; how much are they?” You took a step to the side to see which one he was talking about. “Oh, it’s 10 shillings for each one.” You informed him, walking to the stacked treats with a cloth in hand. “How many would you like?”

A sly grin painted Sebastian’s features and he turned to face you. “3 pieces please.” You barely picked up the second biscuit before you felt a presence looming behind you. “Perhaps, I can have you too if I pay extra.” He whispered in your ear.

Heat spread across your face as you quickly shoved the rest of the biscuits in the small bag. You shoved the biscuits his way and held out your other hand expectantly. “Th-That’s 30 shillings!” You cursed the way you stuttered.

Sebastian laughed at your flustered state as he handed you the payment. He shot you a teasing glance.

“I can’t bake very well but I can show you how good I am with my hands.” Your eyes widened again at the implication and you shoved him towards the exit.

“Thank you for coming to our bakery!” You breathed out a sigh of relief. One patron down… only many more to come.

The ex-colonel swung the bag leisurely as he strode into the manor, forgetting about lunch. “Where were you, Sebastian?” Louis asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Getting myself food.”

The bell rang in your little family shop and you smiled, heading out to greet the next customer with freshly baked biscuits in hand.

“Good afternoon–” Your smile dropped when you realized who came into the bakery.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” Sebastian cooed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you not wish I would come back?”

“I wish you never came at all.” The man stilled for a moment but laughed when you walked past him to restock the display case. “You were here yesterday, were you not?” He turned to see you carefully placing the treats on the platter. “Yes but I’m here to buy more of those delicious biscuits you sell.”

Sebastian stalked closer to you just as you spun around to point the tray in his face. “Personal space, please.” He raised his hands in resignation and backed up. You walked back to the counter to place the warm tray on top. “You weren’t complaining yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect yesterday. Now, how many biscuits would you like?” Before he opened his mouth, you continued. “And buy enough so I don’t have to see you again.”

Sebastian laughed again, enjoying your quips. “You seem very spirited today, m’love.” You rolled your eyes. “Either you buy something or you can get out of the shop.” The man walked towards you but you stood your ground this time, arms crossed.

“Your biscuits are delicious but I bet you taste even better.” Your face heated up and Sebastian grinned. “Th-The way out is right behind you.”

Why do I always stutter?

“You’re adorable when you get shy on me.” You shot him a pointed glare and he chuckled. “I’ll have the whole display.” Sebastian thoroughly enjoyed the way your shy attitude appeared when he spoke.

“Th-The whole—” Sebastian chuckled and leaned on a nearby wall. “Yes, sweetheart; the whole case.” Of course, you needed the money but could the man even afford it?

“Th-That’s 100 shillings.” Sebastian took another glance at the display and shook his head. “Come now sweetheart, all of that is at least 600 shillings.” You shook your head.

“600 shillings is too much!” The thought of even getting mad at his previous words flew out of your head as he insisted on paying the full price. “Please, I’ll lower the price.”

Sebastian smiled as he reached into his coat and pulled out a satchel of coins. “It must have taken a painstakingly long time to make all those biscuits, it’s only right I pay you in full.” He placed the bag on the counter and you slid it back towards him. “I don’t have time to count 100 shillings! Please, that would be more than enough.”

This continued on for another ten minutes before he finally got you to settle on paying half of the original price.

“Enjoy your biscuits!” You called out to him just as the door barely closed behind him. Thankfully the door had a large glass pane and he turned around, offering a small wave before walking off.

You watched as he left the front of the shop and your eyes drifted to the empty display case.

“What in God’s name happened.”

Sebastian was aware that the last time he saw you was the other day, but he did comprehend that coming back the day after buying 60 biscuits would look rather odd. Telling Louis he had to run an errand in the town, the ex-colonel set off to your little bakery. Considering how empty it was the last two times he saw you, Sebastian expected it to be the same.

What he didn’t expect was a large crowd that seemed too big to be inside of the bakery.

Sebastian carefully opened the door and was greeted with the bustling sound of people chatting as they waited for their treats. Being the tall man he was, he searched for you in the crowd until he saw you rush out of the kitchen with your hair a complete mess.

“Thank you for being so patient, have a great day!” You said breathlessly and the patron nodded, wishing you well before leaving. They passed by Sebastian and he watched as they left the shop. He turned his attention back to you, who wore the same smile that made his heart stutter as you helped the next customer.

God only knows how long Sebastian was in the shop but the last customer left and you slumped against the counter. “Is that how you hold yourself in front of your patrons?” You groaned and he laughed.

“You bought 60 biscuits the other day and I still have to make the next batch, why are you back?” You glanced up at him and he shrugged. “Can I not wait for the biscuits?” You kept staring at him and he shot you a questioning glance.

“I can give you an estimated time for when the biscuits are done.” You yawned as you stood up and stretched. “I saw you come in a while ago, do you not have anywhere to be?”

Sebastian leaned against the counter and sighed. “Not today.”

Not having the energy to make him leave, you simply walked back into the kitchen and he watched as the door swung behind you.

It had been three minutes since you disappeared behind the doors and Sebastian was about to leave before you emerged from the kitchen. “If you’re staying until I make the next batch, then I want you to try this.” You said as you place down a small plate with two chocolate covered biscuits. “My father doesn’t know about these so I want to see if these taste good.” He took a glance at the plate and looked up at you.

“You couldn’t try them yourselves?” He asked as you stood across from him, arms folded. “I’d be favored to like them because I made them.” A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other.

“They’re not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” An impressed look crossed Sebastian’s face as he picked up the biscuit and ate it. You watched closely as the man in front of you chewed your creation. “Is that jam and cream?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s indecent.” Sebastian snorted as he took another bite. “You sound like my mum.” You smiled softly as he started to reach for the second one.

“Keep staring like that, I might have to eat something else.” He said as he winked at you.

“Y-You—!”

Sebastian’s visits became routine and each time he came in, your day got a little better. You scoffed. Like you would ever tell him that.

“Darling!” Sebastian called out as he opened the door. “You know, I don’t even know your name and you’ve been coming here for two weeks.” You stated as you cleaned down the counter.

“Aw, you want to put a name to a face so you can moan it tonight?” He cooed and you slammed your towel down, flustered. “O-One day without suggesting those things! I-Is that too much to ask?” Sebastian laughed and you went back to furiously wiping down the counter.

He smiled as he walked towards you and placed his hand on yours. “If you keep scrubbing like that, the wood will wear down.” You sighed and relaxed your grip on the washing cloth. “Your hands are warm.” You said and he chuckled.

“The cloth’s gone cold.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t realize.” Sebastian snorted and took the cloth out of your hands. “Here.” He took both of your hands and held them in his, breathing out slowly on them. He looked at you, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes.

If you were working yourself that much, he would make you take this short break to relax.

You looked up at your hands and suddenly felt shy at the intimate contact. “(Y/N),” you muttered, looking away.

Sebastian glanced up at you and huffed softly. “Sebastian.” You continued to let him warm up your hands.

A serene silence fell over the two of you as he exhaled softly on your hands.

That was until your sister barged into the shop, back from the market. “(Y/N)!” All three of you paused as you stared at each other. You watched as your sister’s eyes traveled from yours to your intertwined hands and you instantly flared up.

“I was just handing him biscuits!” You yelped, yanking your hands out of Sebastian’s. You looked at him and nodded your head towards the exit. “Thank you so much for coming!” Sebastian grinned and he leaned in closer to you. “I’ll come back for you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He knew he said this loud enough for you sister to hear. “Good day!” He smiled innocently, nodding to the girl by the door and walked out.

You watched as he left, not noticing your sister walking up and taking her place next to you. She watched with you as Sebastian walked away and took note of the subtle starry gaze in your eyes.

“Now I understand why you always want to watch the shop.”

You fidgeted as Sebastian walked into the shop once again. What was this? His 40th time at the shop? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

I will ask him!

“What’s troubling you, sweetheart?” Even through the teasing tone, you could hear some worry and you just decided to spit it out.

“Would you like to accompany me to the moorish dance tonight?” Sebastian’s eyes widened as you stared up at him with unintentionally large eyes. The man knew he had a persona to hold in front of you but felt himself failing as he struggled to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.

“Only if you’ll accompany me to my bed tonight.” He watched as your eyes narrowed and you puffed out your chest, crossing your arms. “Forget I asked.” He laughed as you turned away from him. “I’m just playing around!” You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned away again.

“You’re pouting!”

“No I’m not!”

You two continued to bicker until he apologized, albeit through laughs. “I’m serious though, Sebastian.” He looked at you with a fond smile and he exhaled.

“I’d be honored.” You turned to face him with the same smile you used when you first greeted him, except this time it was wider and you looked like you were about to bounce over the counter. “But I really thought I would be the first to ask you.”

“Let customs lay themselves to rest for a bit, Sebastian.”

The dance was some time later at night so you decided to close shop early and walk around the town with Sebastian.

He had never seen you so talkative before and it was very interesting to see you speak without having to put him in his place every five minutes.

“So, do you and your sister run the bakery by yourselves?” Sebastian asked as you walked down the bustling road. “Lately. My father had been overworking himself so my sister and I decided to take over for him.” You smiled as a girl ran past your legs, her little brother following shortly after.

He watched on with a fond look as you continued talking about the bakery and all the baking mishaps that made you the person you were today. “That sounds like it requires a lot of effort.” You chuckled as you reached a secluded tree, not too far from the town but enough to be alone.

“It does, but the son of my father’s friend likes to help from time to time.” The sound of a possible competitor peaked his interest and sat down beside you on the grass. “The son of your father’s friend?” You nodded as you stared at the town and leaned on the tree.

“He’s a wonderful boy, very enthusiastic about helping me and my sister.” You turned to face him with an excited expression. “Oh, I’ll introduce you at the dance later! He’s helping the men set up but we should be able to see him!” The alpha male in Sebastian refused to let himself lose the one good thing he could possibly have in his life.

“You hid the whole jar?”

“Mrs. Pettor makes the best jams! I wasn’t going to let my family finish it!” Sebastian laughed as you defended yourself.

It was almost time for the dance and you both were walking to the town center.

“I’ve been talking all this time.” You realized and you turned to Sebastian. “Tell me more about—” You cut yourself off with a squeak as you were lifted off of your feet.

Sebastian watched as a blonde boy swung you around. “A-Alexander!” The boy put you down, a grin on his face.

The blond boy looked at you and you smiled back before Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, right!” You turned to face Sebastian and grinned. “Alexander, this is Sebastian! Sebastian, Alexander!” The shorter man held out his hand, blue eyes instantly hardening.

“Hello Sebastian,” Alexander said as Sebastian shook his hand. “Alexander.” You looked between the two and felt a tense aura emanating from them before you clapped your hands.

“Shall we go to the dance?” Alexander let go of Sebastian’s hand and immediately faced you. “Of course!” The blond grabbed your hand and you were barely able to get ahold of Sebastian’s before Alexander took off running.

Cheers and music filled the air and the sound of shoes hitting stone echoed throughout the streets. Despite knowing most of the faces, you spent most of your time talking with Sebastian about stories from each of your lives.

“(Y/N)!” You turned your head and saw Alexander heading towards you, out of breath and sweaty from dancing. You excused yourself from the conversation and Alexander stopped in front of you. “I never did thank you for working more than you should have these last few days.” You laughed as you waved him off. “It’s nothing you should thank me for, Alexander. My sister helped so it wasn’t all bad.”

Alexander took a glance at Sebastian, who had been mobbed by most of the town women and looked like he was trying to hold his own. “Would you like to dance?” His question caught you off guard. “I invited Sebastian, I couldn’t leave him…” You turned to see a group of girls crowding around the man and your smile faltered. “One dance wouldn’t hurt.”

“Sebastian!” He looked up from the group of girls and saw you waving. He was about to move until he saw your hand in Alexander’s. “I’m going to dance for a bit!” You laughed as Alexander pulled you to the dance area. Alexander chuckled at you as you told Sebastian of your whereabouts. At least you had the decency to tell him you were dancing with another man.

“So how’d you meet Sebastian?” Alexander asked as you danced to the music. “He came into the shop one day and just kept visiting!” You smiled and the boy in front of you exhaled softly, deciding to drop the topic and talk to your sister about it later.

The former colonel no longer focused on the girls in front of him as he watched you laugh hard at something Alexander said and his heart beat faster in his chest. Out of jealousy or awe, he couldn’t tell. But the way your eyes shone under the golden glow of the street lamps told him to move and get you.

He pushed his way through the crowd of ladies and kept his eyes trained on your carefree figure. Your skin looked so beautiful under this light, maybe you were the one who lit up the town. Your smile alone had enough energy to do so anyway.

“May I have a dance with (Y/N)?” Sebastian asked as he reached you and Alexander. The blond man smiled and your eyes sparkled in delight. “Of course.” Alexander gently let go of your hand and placed it in Sebastian’s.

“Thank you Alexander!” You called out and he turned around, sending you a soft smile and a small wave before walking towards your sister.

You turned your gaze back to Sebastian and you grinned. “Did you get jealous?” Sebastian scoffed before shaking his head. “I don’t get jealous.” You laughed as you felt Sebastian pull you closer. “I saw you looking at Alexander like he was going to steal me away.” You pointed out with a smug smile.

“He did steal you away.” You grinned at him.

“You’re pouting.”

“N-No I’m not!” You laughed and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. “Aw, you’re adorable when you get shy on me!” You cooed, using the exact same words he said to you a while back.

“You—” He picked you up by the waist and you squealed as he lifted you up. “You think you’re so smart.” He muttered as he placed you back down and you looked up at him, your skin shining from sweat and short breaths leaving your lips.

He instantly leaned in, placing a short kiss on your lips and your eyes widened before trying to chase him before he pulled away. “You do taste better than your biscuits.” You buried your head in Sebastian’s chest in embarrassment and he laughed as he started to lead the dance once more.

“Because of that, I’m charging you the rest of the 60 biscuits you bought.” Sebastian feigned hurt. “But that’s too much!” You rolled your eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m sure if you don’t want to pay, Louis can help me find something for you to do to pay me back.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and you giggled at the sour look on his face. “I’m sure you can help around the shop to pay them off, if you don’t want Louis to get involved.” His eyes softened before gently grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss to it.

“If it means I get to see you everyday, it will have been worth it.”

tags: @zoehanji @infinitebells

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #sebastian moran x reader #sebastian moran

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yeojaa · 5 years ago

Text

“i love you.” read: 6:45 pm.

drabble inspired by this post that @hobi-gif tagged me in. i'm a sucker for misunderstandings, y'know? also, this is unedited and not proofread. xoxo

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. general. tags. a bit of dumb angst due to misunderstandings, some fluff to make up for it, mentions of drinking/alcohol, idiots in love. idk. wc. 1.9k.

“So, you’re shooting bourbon at 7:30 on a Wednesday why, exactly?”

How Yoongi manages to keep the judgment out of his voice, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s a bartender thing - some skill you acquire over time, like an achievement in a video game.

Charisma: +30 Listening: +20 Interest: 0

“Because he replied ‘hella’ when I told him I was in love with him.” You think if it weren’t so funny (and embarrassing and bruising to your ego), you’d have a hard time repeating it. Instead, it cuts off the edge of your teeth in a melodramatic wail and you knock back your fourth shot in not very long at all. It burns on the way down, igniting your insides in a very different way than you’d like.

Luckily, the bar is packed - it’s freshman night! - and your cry is lost in the crowd, eaten up by the awful din that seems to only exist in college bars. It’s only you and your favourite bartender that hear it and for that you’re grateful.

“You’re not serious.” From the look on his face, you know he believes you. Has to, because he knows the culprit behind your heartache.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” You deadpan before waving your liquor-laden wrist in a lazy circle. “Another, bar wench!”

It’s not that funny but between the alcohol that’s buzzing in your veins and lighting you up like a goddamn Christmas log to the humiliation that’s burning its way through all your sensibilities— well, you can’t help it.

You’ve always resorted to humour when you were hurting.

“I think you should slow down.” He means well - you can see it in the narrowing of his eyes, the way his mouth tilts just enough to make you feel like a kid in front of the principal - but you don’t want well. You want more. Need it.

For a split second, you feel a wave of emotion. It crests and threatens to swallow you whole, dragging you seven thousand miles beneath your own misery.

You swallow it down as best you can, tasting salt water and the sea when you tug a rough hand through your hair. It aches a little where your rings catch, threading silver through silk. “Yoongi, c’mon.” You ignore the way his name slurs out of your mouth, trapped between wet lips that don’t quite move like they should. “I’m fine. Please.” The desperate edge to your plea tells him enough - that you’re well on your way to having too good of a night, inebriation playing at the sidelines of your vision. You play it off and shift in your seat, sneakered feet kicking this way and that to right yourself.

To his trained eye, you’re about two minutes from slipping backwards off the worn leather stool.

“Can I call someone at least?” He’s meeting you halfway, begrudging and a little worried.

“I’m fine!” It shoots off your tongue, a rocket to the moon. You don’t want to come down.

He sighs once, a sharp inhale of breath through his nose. He’s got that look on his face - the one that tells you you’re going to owe him one. You think that might be better than returning to your dorm, empty-handed and heavy hearted.

“Please?”

Amber liquid finds itself in your shot glass again and you’re quick to snatch it up, worried that Yoongi might dump it the moment he has a chance to consider how he’s indulging you. You swallow it greedily, as if it isn’t pooling uncomfortable heat everywhere it hits - down your throat and around the sides of your mouth.

“Take it easy,” comes a voice - an achingly, devastatingly familiar voice - to your left. It steals your breath - tugs it out of your lungs in the same instant your heart heaves out of your chest.

Jeon Jungkook’s grinning that megawatt smile at you, dimples on full display. His hair’s a little damp and more than a little messed up, sweeping across his forehead in that way that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Shoulders are swathed in soft cotton and plaid, the navy blue and grey pattern a stark contrast to the blinding white of his tee shirt.

He looks so good you want to eat him up.

Instead, you jolt like you’re about to lose the contents of your stomach.

Hands - both his and yours - dart out. Yours grip the sticky booze-stained bartop; his seize your elbows, steadying you easily. You try to ignore the way his palms burn heat across your skin.

“You okay?” He says it so sweetly, as if he hadn’t just shattered your hopes and dreams into a million little pieces less than an hour ago. He says it like he always does, with affection painting his words and stars in his eyes. Even in the dim light, they’re mesmerizing, constellations swirling in his irises.

You have to make a conscious effort to tear your gaze away, redirecting your - admittedly fuzzy - stare to the speck of lint on his collar. It honestly doesn’t help much, because like this, you can see the trail of ink that drifts past his neckline. Swirls of black work that make up the roses that span his shoulders, capping each segment of bone prettily.

He repeats himself when your silence stretches too long for his liking, a tattooed finger rising to tap gently along the ridge of your jaw, thumb sweeping just so across your chin. “Hey, baby. You good?”

A part of you wants to live in the way that sounds. You’re a sucker for pet names and while you’ve heard this one once or twice (or a hundred times), it coils itself like a cobra around the organ in your chest, poised to ruin you. One wrong move and you’d be paralyzed on the ground.

“What’re you doing here?” You finally manage, tearing your roving eyes from the patterns you know lie beneath cloth.

It’s not the smartest move - because you’re distracted by his stupid handsome face again.

“Well, you didn’t answer my text so I got worried. Checked your Snapchat and saw you were here.” It comes so nonchalantly, like he hadn’t just discovered you drowning your sorrows in cheap whiskey.

“I didn’t answer your text?”

You can see Yoongi lingering at the edge of your periphery, hand paused around a glass that he’s in the middle of passing off. You wonder how crazy you must sound, or if you do at all. Maybe just pathetic? You don’t want to think about it too hard.

“You said ‘hella’ to my confession! What am I supposed to say back to that?”

“What’re you talking about?” It’s Jungkook’s turn to take the title of village idiot, big doe eyes widening to the size of saucers. You want to smack the expression off his face - would, too, if your heart didn’t also clench pitifully at the thought of hurting him.

You think he might be backtracking when he retreats a hairsbreadth, releasing you in the same moment his other hand dives into the front of his too-tight black jeans. The denim strains against his thighs, muscle and sinew flexing when he transfers his weight enough to allow him to yank his phone out of his pocket. Said device is in your face in the next instant, glaringly bright screen making you shy away.

Who the hell kept their brightness at 100%?

“Hey - look at this.” He sounds stern as he continues to wave the sleek black iPhone before your eyes, seemingly unaware of the fact that you can’t damn well see a thing with him constantly moving it.

“Stop!” You snap, finally, drink-addled hands snatching it out of his hands when he’s still twirling it like the most annoying wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube man in existence.

With the phone in your own two hands, you peer down at the screen, trying to make sense of what you’re looking at. There’s definitely your last two texts - you cringe at the sight of them, blue bubbles bursting your own - but there’s a slew of others beneath it and they’re all delivered, the read receipt mocking you.

You nearly yeet the phone across the room when, after two or three read-throughs, you grasp what he’s said. “You want to date me?” The words fumble on their way out, knocking into each other in a way that’s equal parts drunk-girl and stupefied-crush.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” He’s got that shit-eating grin of his lighting up his face, sweeping sunshine and daisies into every corner of his expression. It’s at complete odds with the way his mouth twists and turns, flat of his cheek rounded by the tongue he presses into it. You’re both awestruck and turned on all at once. You feel like you might short circuit or maybe that you already have.

It’s the only explanation for the way you’re surging forward - because you’d never do it otherwise, unless you weren’t in control of your own stupid body - and all but throwing yourself against him.

As if he anticipates it, he receives you like a bed you’ve been away from for too long, broad palms sweeping across the backs of your thighs as you cling to him like a koala. Your cheeks burn white hot and steeped in something - love, lust, a mixture of both - and you hum comfortably against the column of his throat. The sound is returned tenfold, echoing from his cavernous chest like the happiest cat in the world. It shakes your entire body, so closely pressed to him that you can feel every vibration that runs through all five feet, ten inches of him.

“I’m guessing that’s a yes?” His words lose themselves in your hair, breath warm against the shell of your ear as he squeezes you tight.

You give him his answer in the press of your mouth, parted and a little sloppy, more tongue and teeth than technique. You swallow the laugh that builds, devouring it like a kid in a candy store with the intensity of your adoration. “Hell-a yes.”

The way he grips you in response, laughter rolling off him in intoxicating waves - because you’d happily get drunk off the sound - fizzes excitement through your limbs.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Both of you know the answer to that question, the knowledge passing silently between you.

You smirk; Jungkook mirrors it. He surges forward for another kiss and you’re meeting him halfway, slanting your mouth greedily across his. He relents for the briefest moment - lets you savour the gentle brush of his lips, the soft pass of his tongue - before he’s taking all he can get. He’s licking over your teeth, laving hotly across every inch in a way that makes your head spin.

“Get a room!” It comes from your right, somewhere just behind you.

“We should take their advice, baby.” He coos, breaking away just enough for you to gulp in lungfuls of air. His lips are the prettiest shade of red, kiss swollen and slicked with spit.

At any other time, you might be ashamed - you can only imagine how you look - but here and now, fueled by the knowledge of reciprocated love and the pleasant warmth of liquor, you couldn’t care less. So you kiss the boy you love, eager and with hands trailing the expanse of his back.

“Let’s go.”

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smndragon · 3 years ago

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henlo!! i hope you're doing well! i'd love to get a reading from you, if that's okay! my placements are: sag sun (12h), aries moon (3h) and cap rising! thank you so much for this!

I swear I looked at my inbox and took a second for start the tv and get a drink of water. This is gonna be a long night, I don't think there are meant full readings left though. I'm doing very well thanks for that!

Hm, Sagittarius sun, Aries moon, and Capricorn ascendant.

The Aries moon is the loudest competing with the Capricorn ascendant. Possible glasses I feel from the Aries moon or bad eyesight. The Capricorn could cause you to cut your hair short since I feel some of them really like doing that either their chaotic energy at times✂️💇🏽‍♀️ (I always try to be careful when clicking edit ln these drafts cause it sucks to accidentally delete it ughh) SONG RECOMMENDATION LOVELIES creep by Radiohead! I'm back after getting an ice pop AND OMG IVE BEEN ANSWERING THINGS MY SHEETS ARE WARM AND I HAVEN'T OPENED IT HOW DID I FORGET. Anyways, I wondered if your profile was really you so I looked closer and now I regret I cause the characteristics will be thrown off later on sorry.

Gotta make a new paragraph that was long💀 the Aries moon is hard to see, the connection has been ruined. FOCUS I'm back okay let's go! The Aries Manor is large. I arrived immediately at gates. The place feels like a castle, all of a sudden I'm in a dress on the ground as if this is some kind of lost girl story. My expression looks really confused. As if they're asking "where tf am I" a tall figure comes down the stairs, dressed in a red dress as if her wedding with the world's biggest asshole had was cancelled. Red lips and styled back red hair, their eyes are sharp at the ends and wide in the middle (can't explain eyes lol) they offer their hand to me as if I look like the dumbest bitch at the ball lol. Long and manicured nails. Shes thin and lanky but beautiful non the less. (For all of you insecure people reading to this far I'm watching you😤 love yourself more please you deserve it) she has a butler on standby. "So what are you doing here?" A pretty basic question but I honestly feel so dumb rn lol. They act as if the quest never happened and look around for something in the room turning their head. "You're not Gemini/Sagittarius are you?" A skeptical look on their face. It's hard to interpret what they said. "Alright, maybe you're not here to pull a prank on me if you are." They grab a cigarette from a tin holder a worker offers them already lit and breathing rolls of smoke. "If not them, what are you doing here shorty?" Taking another hit, the cigarette finished by then. Time is going by faster than I thought. "Alright" I hear the click of the case in their hand closing. "If you aren't here for me then I know who, follow me." They get up to lead me up the stares. Hesitantly following after. Aura is red and flaming. Possible placements are the lover stomach or I feel the manor and small parts around it take yo the whole chest. You may have problems with heartburn, chest pains, or issues with the lungs. We leave the lavished hall. I feel there's somewhere you wanna go someday. Possible problems in class as a kid, too passionate or anger issues. Nowadays may be shy or hesitant. Aries people often are fiery, but we also turn more shy getting older.

I see a door down the hall opening it, the Aries moon is gone by now. I feel you have Gemini placements possibly tricksters with your Sagittarius sun. I see the Sagittarius sitting down on something soft and plush. Reading some kind of novel or paper. They seem very intimidating until seeing me. "Ah! Are you here to talk to me? I've been needing company!" Getting up to walk towards me. "Did Aries not come with you? They always avoid me." I see their earrings shine with the night sky. "I mean I did pull that paint trick a bit ago but to mean c'mon who wouldn't?" She once had an elegant purple dress, to match her heavy eyelashes and almost violet blue eyes. But I look into myself now. They are jokes on how we look the same now and they bet she asked me if I was them. They turn to me again after looking off for a bit. You the host may have issues with the contact under pressure or when holding conversations. They do the same thing the Aries does. They may go deeper than shown to me, lifetimes of being stuck with each other in the same hosts. May have liked each other in the beginning but something changed this. Possible placement now is the left side of the chest. Aura color is purple and starry blue. I'm no longer in contact.

I feel the Capricorn ascendant is the puzzle piece to what happened. Change that thought it's Gemini. It's not just you body but in others they've known each other I'm the placements. Possibly a love triangle turned into hate or something. The Aries moon once loved your Sagittarius, they still do. It's just things have changed and Gemini and Sagittarius are better together to Aries. This doesn't seem right. Idk how you could fix this maybe we'll see later. This imbalance could be the cause of some mental issues or your own love problems, both signs aren't as good with such things. They don't know how cause they haven't found true love yet. At least not reciprocated well enough.

The Capricorn ascendant lives in the middle of your chest in-between the abdomen and stomach proportions. This doesn't make sense to me since I believe the stairs were here. I get there, the Capricorn is sitting on the steps sketching. The Capricorn is more boyish. Dressed in a shorter green dress. Cut to the shoulders blonde hair with brown and green mixed eyes. A golden chain on the neck matching the sprinkle of gold on the cheeks and in the eyes. They look at me weirdly. As if they're appalled I ended up here. "Gonna sit or not?" They point to next to them on the steps. I sit down looking at the sketch set down for a second resting in their palms. "You can feel it too can't you?" Clearly they're talking of the energy between the other two zodiacs. "They've been like this for a long time-" "I know." I finally talk I believe after this whole reading. They look down at their drawing. "I'm pretty new here so yeah. I got it fast" they catch me looking at the pencil stokes. "You saw it before. Think it was good?" They look at me again head still down low. "yeah" I nod. "Great!" They pull me up. "Let's get away from here yeah?" There's fields outside the mansion. Green even in the night. Rolling down the grounds and getting grass covered stains and markings. This Capricorn is alive.

Characteristics: dark hair, wider eyes due to the Capricorn or Aries moon, I feel this creates bigger eyes at times. Possibly markings on the hands or arms. Height is fairly average or just an inch shy of it. Possibly have posters in your room. You may definitely need that cup of morning coffee. Strongly built with thicker bones. Took some scrapes and scratches as a kid lol.👷gap in the middle of the teeth. Your nose may scrunch and get bunny lines. Possible love for Halloween. Nice nails but they get broken easily do you have to cut them short. Struggled with self image issue younger. Causing some mental health problems. You aren't an angry person but if boundaries are crossed there's gonna be a problem.

Soulmates/ future relationship: (ignore if already in one unless curious) I feel Virgo influence here. Not the tallest person but also yes? One of those two either really tall ppl or not at all. You guys will try and keep up with each other a lot. Trying to manage schedules and make little completions on who cna do something better or first. On the couch watching movies and sharing food, okay cringey couple thing coming up. You guys may feed each other like it's normal and your friend just stare at you like "wtf??" They love our two though lol they'll get used to it. Possible meeting at s grocery store when in the bread isle or nearby. May have you call them lieutenant or some strengthening name at times or they won't even move to do what you want them to.

Other zodiac influence in your life through people: Gemini moon, Virgo moon, sun, ascendant. Possible same mercury and venus? Random. Cancer mars, Neptune.

Health/future: watch for dogs (i love dogs but I see some trouble here) cars when walking on roads or streets. Just saying duck and lay attention for the next 2 months when in a dangerous working areas or smth.

FINALLY DONE SORRY THIS TOOK LONG

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zevlors-tail · 4 years ago

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But Yandere!Izuku and Villain!Deku are same person? Talking about (his) their personaly/ities? (being psychopaths and obsessive to possessive)

Alright, this will probably be the last ask I answer this week for a while (don’t hold me to that, some asks are easier to answer than others for some reason?). Character analysis time! This isn’t the first time someone’s said this so I hope this helps and clarifies some things! And for the record, this is just my personal opinion/my own viewpoint. Under the cut because it’s super long and I got carried away, sorry!

Firstly, Villain!Deku and Yandere!Izuku are not always one in the same for me. They can be, like how Izuku is in my fic “Stained Glass”, but to me they’re often different. I think it’s all in how you interpret both of them.

Villain!Deku: A lot of the times I see Villain!Deku portrayed as an insane psychopath who’s extremely possessive/unhinged and crazy about his Doll/so, but he doesn’t have to be that way. Villain!Deku could be many things; crazy, soft (a personal favorite of mine), caring (believe it or not), scary, calculated, cold, stoic, aloof, nonchalant... The point is, he can be a villain without being psychopathic and obsessive. Those certainly are considered more “negative” qualities that relate more to villains, but villains can be more than just crazy. They can have depth, still live normal lives to the best of their extent, or even be completely coherent with a brilliant plan that the hero has to work against the entire time. Take his motives into account. Did Deku become a villain because hero society was just too much to handle and it slowly corrupted him, or was he always a little unhinged right from the start? Did something happen to Inko? Was it the rejection from All Might? Was it all of those things put together? Was it how Bakugou bullied him?

There are plenty of reasons Deku has to become a villain (shoutout to canon Deku for staying strong and pursuing his dreams, you GO baby boy!), and depending on the severity of the trigger(s) and how it affected him, he very well could be leading a semi-normal life even as a villain. Ultimately though, it’s all in the eyes of the beholder; the writer creates the world however they want.

I’ll do my best to paint a picture of how I see Villain!Deku most of the time in my head, because he’s probably a lot different than what most of you think. To me, Villain!Deku is often a character who’s been failed by the heroes, who learned how to do things on his own, who climbed the latter of villains through his own means and hard work. He’s charming, flirty, mentally stable/available, and still feels empathy for a select few people, his s/o and mother included. He’s a critical thinker who analyzes things before acting, who plans out his moves down to every last possible consequence before coming up with a plan. He can be caring, he’s observant, and he does everything with purpose. He has goals. The point is, he’s not just a psychopath who’s possessive.

Now, Yandere!Izuku on the other hand...

Yandere!Izuku: Here’s the thing. While there is still variety in Yandere Verse, I personally think it’s a little more clear cut when it comes to underlying motives and personality traits. Yes, Yandere!Izuku will eventually become possessive or obsessive in some way; it’s how yanderes are. Whether he goes full on psychopath or not is up to a writer’s discretion, but yeah, most of the time it happens in many of the fics I’ve read. Yandere!Izuku usually has one goal, and that is to be with the reader/his s/o. Now he might do this several different ways, but the end goal is ultimately the same. Usually possessive yanderes don’t really care about anything else if it’s not related to their darling, so unless it’s interfering with his relationship with his partner, he won’t care (at least not as much as he should).

Now let’s throw in a villain aspect to Yandere!Izuku!

There are a couple different ways to go about this. First, Izuku could have been a villain before he became yandere. Maybe he saw the reader one day while he was working or met them through his villain connections, idk. Whatever floats your boat. He turns (he’s not a vampire, Sweater, he’s a yandere), and now he’s both a villain and yandere. The second possibility is that he was yandere for the reader before he became a villain, or that he became a villain because he’s yandere and would do anything for his darling. Maybe he did it to prove he could keep them safe. Maybe it was a show of his love for them. Either way, he’s now a villain. But then we have a third option, and that’s that Yandere!Izuku never became a villain at all. He went to school, became a hero, and then became yandere somewhere along the line while he was still a hero. I love this option the most because it’s so contradictory in the fact that he’s technically a hero and yet he’d be willing to do things that are illegal or immoral just for the sake of his darling.

(TLDR) Which leads to my conclusion:

Villain!Deku and Yandere!Izuku are not always one in the same. Villain!Deku isn’t always a possessive psychopath, and Yandere!Izuku isn’t always a villain. They can be the same, or they can be different.

Thank you for coming to my seminar about Villain!Deku and Yandere!Izuku. I hope you enjoy the rest of your day!

#villain deku #villain!deku #yandere!deku #yandere deku #yandere izuku #yandere!izuku #character analysis

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grumpy-zane · 4 years ago

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((Idk what to title this. DOTD stuff/Royal Blacksmith HC lore.

WARNING: this is long.))

Dareth ran the tablecloth up and down the counter, scrubbing out the spots that had ring stains to the beat of the song cracking from the radio. It was still too early in the evening to open up shop, but he didn't mind the wait. It gave him a lot of time to double check everything and re-count inventory. He flicked off the radio and on the TV, leaning on the counter to catch the news.

Nothing important was happening today, unless you counted traffic jams as a lethal city attack, and it was the perfect weather to hit the beach according to the news. No doubt Gayle was trying to find something to talk about, but, "Not a single story to get a scoop out of today, miss reporter," he spoke to the screen. Eyeing the window, he contemplated going out for an hour to catch some rays. Not that he needed it immediately, but he had notice that his tan was starting to fade as of late.

Knocking against the door pulled him from his thoughts. "We're not open yet, come back in three hours!" Dareth called, hoping his voice carried though the thick wood.

"Not a patron!" A prideful voice muffled back.

"Lou?" He stood up and answered the door. "Lou! Good to see ya, how have you been?"

"Well I've been just wonderful," he smiled and stepped inside, taking a seat at the bar while Dareth returned to his position, "I stopped by to talk to you about Day of the Departed plans."

"You know me, always room in my schedule for that. That's a few months away though, right?"

"Yes, but its always good to plan these things far in advance. Anyway, the other day when I was going through the archives, It hit me that I never let Cole experience how the Royal Blacksmiths formed."

Dareth lowered the TV volume, "Wait, I thought Cole didn't want to be a Blacksmith?"

"No, of course not! But its family history that I think he and his friends should know.. on top of a performance of course! That’s why I've come to you! We need the Jade Palace rented out." Lou beamed.

Bewilderment struck across his face, "Lou. You can't just rent out the Jade Palace- sure the city rebuilt it and turned it into a memorial.. museum.. actually I haven't been inside. But! Isn't that a little 'out there' in terms of.. you know.."

He laughed, "That’s why I came to you! You know how to make the impossible work out! And it's perfect too! 'The Royal Blacksmiths perform at the Jade Palace: a Historical Unraveling', I can see the headline now." He looked up, picturing the scenario in his mind.

Dareth folded his arms and thought about it. No doubt he'd have to talk to a rabbit hole of people just to pull it off, at least Lou came to him about it now rather than one week in advanced. "I'll see what I can do," he sighed.

"Haha, yes! I knew I could count on you!" He jumped up and headed towards the door, "I'll give you more details once I flesh them out. This is going to be so much fun!" The door shut in excitement.

---------

"You said your dad planned something?" Jay popped a few pieces of candy in his mouth, "something about the palace?"

"Yeah," he reached over and dug into the bag, grabbing out a taffy. "He said he had something special for the team- more importantly me, but he extended the invitation. He said something about Blacksmith history, I just hope he doesn’t drone on and on." Cole rolled his eyes.

"It sounds like you didn't have a very good experience with this in the past?"

He shrugged, "My dad was never a 'when I was your age' person, but he was a 'your great great whatever' person when it came to performing. I didn't like listening to it, so I never payed much attention."

The two climbed the front stairway just as people were departing. so much for making the show, but at least they weren’t absurdly late and didn’t leave Lou waiting half an hour. Kai and Nya looked away from the entry way and waved at the two, drawing the attention of Dareth was was hovering around the side walls. He whistled, Lou snapping away from the conversation of the quartet and smiling. “Cole! Jay! there you two are!”

“Hey dad-” the two hugged, “sorry we missed the performance. Crime never rests.”

“Yeah, luckily Pixal and Zane took over for us.” Jay chirped, “So, a story? Will it be in the form of a song?”

He laughed and rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder, leading the two up through the entrance. “No, no, I’m afraid not. The boys want to call it early tonight, so it’s going to just be me.” Lou nodded to the rest of his group, the three calling their goodnights and goodbyes. “So, you said two of you aren’t showing up, what about Lloyd?”

Jay and Cole exchanged glanced, then repeated the motion with Kai and Nya.Usually everyone would be here, but the S.O.G. no doubt made him rethink things in regards to his father. “I’ll keep a look out for him,” Dareth waved a hand and smirked, “I already got the low-down and I’ll get him up to speed. You guys enjoy the tour.”

The interior was much like it was before the destruction, though more antique fitted for the occasion, no doubt. Glass cases displayed attire and relics of an older time; worn armor stood tall on wooden racks, faded paintings hung beneath special lights, weapons held vertically reflected the gold trimmings surrounding them, and masks hung from the walls. Lou proudly walked past the displays to a dark lit wall, “As all of you know who the Royal Blacksmiths are, I won’t e going over that. Instead, I want to start from the very beginning.” He flicked on a light, illuminating the wall with a portrait through a lamp. “Before there were Blacksmiths, there were entertainers. This group of four traveled through Ninjago by foot, performing tricks no one had seen before! Their acts drew the attention of the Royal Family, who’s prince was delighted by their performances! So much so, that he invited them to perform at the palace.”

Cole tried not to sigh, feeling deja vu from this spiel. Taking a look around, it seemed like no one else was feeling the same. Whether that was for better or worse...

“Mr. Compère, You’re needed!” Lou jumped with the rest of the group, the masked man wrapped his arm around the Blacksmith, his attire making him look out of place, hailing from a lost time.

“M-Mr. Compère?” He sputtered.

“Yes, the King wants to see what we can do!” He was promptly pulled away, the person stopping to look back at the stunned Ninja. “You best be making your way to the stage if you don’t want to miss the performance.” He held up a finger to the lips of the mask, dispersing away into smoke.

Jay gawked, “Did you just SEE THAT?!”

“Who was that?” Kai asked, Cole pushing everyone aside.

“I dunno, but I don’t like the sound of what he has planned. Come on!”

Grand pillars held up the octagonal roof, the rafters danging dozens of lights of varying color, each held at a height that pointed down to the stage. The squad shoved open the doors, weapons brandished ready to fight when they were once again dumbstruck. On the far side the king sat, his green robes draping over his armored body. The Jade undertones in the trimming angled in a way that drew attention to his pale face, his dark eyes watching intently at the four masked men who stood in a circle with their backs on the inside. Among the four, one rose up an instrument: a lyre, intricately carved in ancient Ninjagian. The notes that escaped it echoed in the large room, the lights flickering as the air reacted to the music. The other three drew comically long blades, lifting them to the air and spinning around in a dance.

“The King and his son watched as their performance spelled out the story of a bard, One of which caught in plans that would prove to be quite fatal,” Lou’s voice spoke from the upper floor. As if on queue, one of the masked figured drove their sword into the other, shocking the royalty as the other two dropped to the floor dramatically. The bard only paused, returning to his playing once again. Another masked person stabbed their sword through, followed by the third, but the playing did not cease. This frightened the assailants, the person turning and gliding towards them, scaring them off stage. “It was such a grand display of endurance, that the King thought it would be foolish to simply send them away without compensation. Thus, he dubbed the ensemble, ‘The Royal Blacksmiths’, entertainers of the Royal Family.”

Cole lead the way around the lower balcony, the lights above blowing out suddenly before flickering back on. The stage had dramatically changed, one of that reflect a circus. The ringleader faced the four who had taken a seat next to the railing. Kai blinked, “Hey is that-”

“Ladies, and Gentlefolk, Tonight’s performance is none other than The Wondrous, Illustrious, Roooyaall Blacksmiths!” He brown cape flew as he lifted an arm to them, the curtains flying open as a large tiger leapt forward. One of the blacksmiths, wearing a black suit and white face paint with red accents, jogged across the ring, leading the large cat around the obstacles and through the tubes. From the other side, another Blacksmith ran out, performing flips through the same obstacle course and landing on a rolling board. A third leapt over the back curtain, landing in the hold of the rolling one who lifted them elegantly. The fourth emerged in a cloud of smoke, holding an arm out to the Ringleader who promptly through his hat and cane.

“Cole, That’s your dad!” Jay giddily squealed, pointing at the center circle.

“What?!”

Lou gently bowed, spinning the cane around and throwing it into the air, catching it and tossing it up again even higher. “No more was the need to act plays and stories, the people wanted to see something extraordinary, and so it was!” Lou shouted, barely turning around in time to see the tiger leap from the back curtains again.

“Dad look out-!” Cole leapt up from his seat, gripping the railing as the tiger fell into the hat and disappeared completely. Lou caught the cane and tossed it up again, winking at his son as he whipped the hat directly at him. It spun back around just out of reach and out of the light. The wheeling blacksmith sped up their circles, tossing the other into the air and catching the cane. The other landed next to Lou, striking a pose as the third slid out from the curtain on the other side. Lou kept his hands raised, marching in place as the cane was tossed up again. He grabbed it just as the last smith found his place behind the three, sparks exploding from the end of the cane like fireworks. The hat finally came back around which he promptly caught, lowering it to the ground and letting a small house cat step out of it.

“But it was so, that the life of excitement wasn’t something everyone could handle. Generations of building up elaborate stunts were daunting to the eyes of a junior, and so he chose a different approach,” Lou spoke as the quartet began humming various pitches. “He thought no one should bear to hear such noises that left ears ringing, Instead he came up with a new plan! One that involved singing!” He held the last word on a high note.

The tiger let out a low grumble, its purring distracting everyone to look at the side wall. “Oh nuts,” Dareth, the ringleader, smiled sheepishly, gently scratching the large cat under the chin.

Lou cleared his throat, “And so here we are now, carrying out the tradition to entertain no matter the form, display, or song. I hope you all enjoyed the performances, you especially, Cole.” He smiled up at his son.

Jay barged into the conversation, “That. Was. Awesome!”

“How did you pull it all off??” Nya asked, beaming.

“I would have never guessed that it was that deep,” Kai mirrored their excitement, “who knew?”

Cole leapt down from the balcony and approached his father, “You did all of this, just for me?”

“Of course, Cole, It’s family history!.. and I wanted to let you know that, not everyone in our historical line wanted to do what their fore-fathers did. I’m proud of you, that you’re a ninja, It gives me a lot to write and sing about!” He gripped Cole’s shoulder and laughed, pulling him into a half hug.

The other ninja had leapt down, asking the others as the group of performers congregated in the pit. It was a shame that Zane, Pixal, and Lloyd missed it, but Cole was sure that Kai had recorded at least part of it on his phone for his social media followers. The earth ninja eyed around at the general happiness, content with it, and leaned against his dad. “Happy Day of the Departed, dad.”

He squeezed him back, chuckling, “Happy Day of the departed.”

#ninjago #Lou #Dareth #cole #jay #nya #kai #the royal blacksmiths

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shinriaaa · 4 years ago

Text

Strings of Fate

Summary: In which Levi was lost after an expedition outside the walls, and transported to another world in Hizuro. Saved by a fortuneteller named Mikasa, and through the Paths, she wanted to transport him back to his world.

P/S this au is not edited thoroughly so beware of grammatical errors xx enjoy reading! btw this is a short au lol idk if i will be able to continue this hshshsh

—

The sound of crickets reverberating throughout the silent forest shook him awake. He gasped, alarmingly realizing that he was lost in a forest where he was supposed to be killing Titans. There is blood gushing from his torso, he noted, and it was soaking his white oxford shirt and green cloak, together with his white pants. He let out a grunt, keeping the pain at bay as he tried to stand up and gain his posture.

“Fuck...” he cursed and gritted his teeth.

But alas, he couldn’t even sit up properly. His gears are broken, and his clothes too are drenched in blood, sweat, and dirt. In contrast to his uncanny figure, the forest leads to some sort of homely abode. He sat on the cobbled floor, surprisingly clean and pristine not until his crimson blood tainted its grey colored stones. The forest was calm, too eerily calm and it had a mist covering almost everything it leads towards the cobbled path.

He is lost. And after so many years being on the Survey Corps, he was surprised to see this territory outside the walls with unseemly calm and very tranquil for a forest with no Titans sneaking around. The tall trees became so dark underneath the moonless sky, some fireflies were flying around like little fairies, and the strangest of them all was a small gush of water nearby, indicating a small river. He tried to stand up again, successfully took a few steps as he held his torso, and began to walk.

The path seems brighter with each step he took, and he could see the light shining around a place that he could take shelter with. With his broken 3DMG gear and blades, he was just a dead man in this forest. Getting nearer, his wobbled feet became weaker as he grunted in pain. But he needed to get there and get some fucking help if there’s any human living in this mysterious abode in the middle of the forest.

It became luminous; as the light illuminated his path, taking him towards a very massive building with pristine marble walls underneath the tall trees.

Oh, Maria. Where the fuck am I?

His eyes widened in surprise, to his chagrin, his discovery is the most eerily strange he ever saw in his life. The temple was flawless, immaculate like there is no human ever stepped in this majestic abode. It was towering up above, almost the same height as the tall trees. There is light all around enveloping the temple and feels like it was still morning. It’s foreboding yet welcoming aura made him curious.

How come this building is not infested with Titans?

Looking down, he grunted when his crimson blood was trickling down from his torso, further tainting the once spotless path of cobblestones. He grimaced when he thought he’s the one who caused the mess to the owner of the temple. But, he needed some help. There is no such time for cleanliness— even though he loathed his predicament.

He arrived at the marbled steps, taking him into two large wooden doors. Slowly taking a step towards the stairs, he reluctantly opened them. He was, once again, taken aback by how clean and strange this place is… and how otherworldly it was.

There is a dome at the top of the large hall, with paintings and stars almost moving and shifting around each other as if they are alive. There are drawings of women, children, and men in different cultures like it was some sort of celestial display. The colors are shifting brightly like a panorama around a sunset, deliberately changing every second. The hall itself was made of pure white marble, there is no stain of any dirt and there is a big window on the left side, overlooking a black void of different specks of stars, as they twinkle and shine brightly through the glass. A large well was in the middle of the hall, and a wooden table with lots and lots of herbs and different medicines are scattered around. At the back, red strings are tangling around like veins at the marble wall.

He momentarily dazed, and he stepped out of his reverie when he heard a soft voice echoing the whole temple-like chiming bells.

“Who goes there?”

Taking a step back, he ended up falling to the marbled floor as his torso guttered in pain. He could hardly breathe, as the last thing he saw from his half-lidded eyes was a woman with onyx eyes and long raven hair, holding his body while screaming for his name.

—

“Levi.”

He slowly opened his eyes, as the light painstakingly almost blinds him alive. A soft, calm voice shook him awake as he finally stared at the woman who was hovering above his head, while he could smell the scents of herbs lingering around the temple.

He noticed the young woman’s otherworldly face, looking like some sort of pigment from someone’s imagination. Her silver-grey onyx orbs have stars twinkling like the night like it was some unending void from the night sky itself embedded in her eyes. Her porcelain white skin is shining through the marbled walls, and he noticed the celestial patterns on her small hands and face, twinkling and fluttering endlessly. Her lips were small, but pink and soft. Her long, silky raven hair draped at the back of her shoulders is changing its colors, from blue to black and gradients in between. She was wearing a strange black painted robe that hugged her small figure, and a red crimson scarf adorned her neck.

She was as immaculate as the temple itself, which made his breath come out from his lungs.

Is he dreaming?

“Who are you?” he asked breathlessly, as he regards her posture. She was looking at him from the top, her head bending towards him and he realized he was lying down. Looking upwards, he could see the dome’s painted drawings shifting and moving, with the celestial figures twinkling above.

“I did heal your wound. You came from another world, and I admit, you are here because of a mistake from the strings of fate,” she calmly said and moved away, walking to the other side of the table.

He sat up, noticed the deep wound of his torso was surprisingly healed and very clean— like there is no wound at all. He was naked as his name day, with only a white cloth covering his private area. He almost blushed at his nudeness.

He glared softly at the woman, “Did you just undress me?” he asks and the woman nonchalantly shrugs.

“No,” she paused and took a step towards the well, staring down towards the depths of it. “My healing powers did it. I do not undress men, you see. Even if they ask me to.”

Silence engulfed them both, and the woman turned around, giving him some fresh robes from the well itself. It was certain it was magic...

“Please do clothe yourself. The night is cold, and your mortal life will be affected by the temperature.”

Handing it to him, she walked away towards a small door that leads to another place in the temple.

The robe smelled of fresh pine and musk, like the forest he came from. He sighed and proceeded to dress in a robe that seems different from the clothes he is wearing back in the walls.

It was a dark blue silk robe, and it has a silk belt (which is not a belt) to fasten up the robe around his waist. It feels traditional… and he wondered where the fuck is this place. There are some undergarments, which consist of white shorts and also, there are some pants that are too open and not the tight ones he used to wear.

“You’re in Hizuru.” the young woman uttered, and he turned around to see her standing in front of the vein-like strings, looking at each of them attentively. He saw a pair of socks and wooden sandals. Sighing, he took the socks and put them in his feet and finally, wore the sandals.

It was surprisingly: neat. The way it ensembles the style of clothing to the young woman, making it more traditional and different. He gazed back once again to the young woman... seemingly lost but he did silently thanked her.

“The Paths of Ymir saved you. You are transported to another world, you see,” she paused and turned to look at him, her silver-onyx eyes showing different kinds of constellations as the sound of her voice is the only thing that was heard in this strange place. She did not betray any emotions, as her orbs burned through his figure.

“I’m Mikasa, and by the strings of fate, Levi Ackerman, I’m going to transport you back in your world.”

Chapter Two

#rivamika #snk #levi ackerman #mikasa ackerman #fanfiction #fate

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 4 years ago

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Don’t Leave - Cardinal Copia (Papa Emeritus IV)

This one is also based on dream I had.

My dream was that I was part of the church/ministry/clergy/whatthefuckever and I had to move to either France or Virginia (idk). I didn’t wanna go obviously and told Copia about it. I don’t remember him having that much of a reaction lol. But for the sake of fiction, he did. I moved away in my dream unfortunately, but I’ll make this have a happy ending.😇

Enjoy my subconscious!

~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone in the church gasped. Some cried out, some sobbed. But it was most of the same. The news had came.

Papa Nihil was dead.

We were already accepting the new Papa Emeritus the 4th. Everyone loved the Cardinal anyway. But everyone loved Papa Nihil, he was a soft spot for most people. Some members of the church even knew him when he was the first to run the church.

It was a sad day.

On top of that, I had just found out this morning that my parents and I were to move to a different state.

It seemed like it was going to be a week full of bad days.

I tried not to sob when I got dressed for mass this morning. I had no idea what I’d do without this church. It was like a second home to me.

I’d volunteer whenever I could to help the Ministry out. I’m so active in the church that even the Ghouls from the band project knew me! I would’ve become a true member of the church if it wasn’t for my parents.

It’s not like they didn’t approve, but they just needed me.

I was their only child. I wouldn’t want them to think I was leaving them. I couldn’t.

On the other hand, the Ministry has reached out to me and asked if I wanted to become a Sister of Sin multiple times. They love my enthusiasm and think I have the potential to so even more. Sister Imperator actually thinks very highly of me. And Papa Emeritus III, when he was alive, actually sought me out to see if I wanted to join the band (and maybe for other reasons of his own).

I wanted to...I really wanted to. It was even harder to turn down the Cardinal when he asked as well. I just knew my parents needed me.

Coming to this mass knowing it would be my last really hurt, then hearing the news about Nihil...I don’t know how I’ll be able to tell everyone that I have to leave.

After the service, I saw Sister Imperator in the distance, hugging a few people. They were probably giving her their condolences since everyone knew how much they cared for each other.

I trudged over to her sorrowfully, almost hoping that she would be too busy to talk to me. But the universe just had it out for me today, and she quickly noticed how pitiful I looked.

She quickly brought me into a loving embrace, much like a mother’s. I was quickly brought to tears when I thought that this would probably be the last hugging Sister.

“I’m so sorry, Sister.” I cried.

It had a double meaning for me, obviously. I was so sorry about Papa Nihil dying, but I was sorry about having to leave. But she didn’t know the other meaning yet.

“He lived a good life, Y/N.” She whispered, rubbing my back soothingly.

I pulled away from her and scratched the back of my head nervously, avoiding her eyes.

She sighed. “That’s not the only reason you’re sorry. What’s happened?”

“I’m...I’m moving away.” I choked out. Sister Imperator immediately frowned and gave me a sad look. “My parents told me this morning. We leave in two days.”

She quickly pulled me back into a hug. I held on tightly, trying to keep myself from breaking down in front of everyone. “Have you told Cardinal yet?”

I froze. That was the thing I was dreading the most...

I shook my head no and I could feel her loosing her grip on me. She pulled away from the hug, tears brimming her eyes, making me feel guilty. “He’s going to be so devastated. He really has taken a liking to you, dear.” She said, making me feel even more guilty.

I sighed. “I know...it’s just so hard knowing that he’ll be so sad.” I wiped a stray tear that was rolling down my cheek.

Sister brought her hand up and caressed my cheek, smiling sadly. “It has to be done, sweetie. Ripping off the band-aid.”

I nodded and placed my hand above hers. She quickly pointed out Cardinal Copia, now named Papa Emeritus IV, in the group of people and encouraged me to walk over to him.

I nervously approached him, seeing his eyes brighten with joy as he noticed me.

Damn...

“Hey, Cop- uh, Papa.” I stutter. I always called him Copia, but now he’s much more higher up now, taking on the role of Papa Emeritus now.

Copia smiled and shook his head slightly. “You don’t have to he so formal with me, dolcezza. Just because I’m Papa now doesn’t mean you have to call me that.” He told me in his endearing Italian accent.

Oh lucifer, I’m gonna miss him...

“I, uh, need to talk to you.” I said, and he gestured for me to continue speaking. But I looked around nervously at all the people close by, and he quickly realized that I meant in private.

He guided me over to the corner of the room, away from the group. “Now, what is it, cara mia?”

Come on, Y/N. Just like ripping off a band-aid...

“Copia...I’m moving away...in two days.”

My words hung in the air with a bitter silence. Nervousness filled me to the brim when he looked like he didn’t even hear me at first, so afraid that I’d have to repeat myself. The nervousness quickly turned into anxiety when his face finally contorted from shock to a frown. He didn’t say anything. Not even a sigh of displeasure, but his eyes never met mine. But if they did, they would be filled with heartache.

I was stunned into silence when Copia quickly walked off, not even saying so much as a goodbye. He pushed past all the people (and Ghouls), heading to his new office in the church.

“Y/N?” A warm hand was placed on my shoulder, Sister’s hand.

“He didn’t even say anything. He just...left.” I reached up and covered my mouth to muffle the hiccups caused by trying not to cry this whole morning, but a few escaped the sound barrier that my hand caused and reached Sister’s ears.

“Go find him.”

I turned around and looked at Sister Imperator in shock. “Find him? He couldn’t even look at me!”

“He’s in shock, dear. He probably just needs a few minutes to process it. Go to his office after everyone leaves. That’ll be enough time to mull his over. And if he won’t see you, I’ll go into that silly office of his and smack him in the head.”

I laugh tearfully. I love this woman. “Okay.” I agreed.

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, you might want to go say goodbye to everyone else.”

I sigh and look over to the group of people (+Ghouls) that I’ve made friends with and grew to care about for years now. This won’t be easy either...

After about a half hour of goodbyes, hugs, and more tears (and some sorrowful mewling from some of the Ghouls), everyone started to trickle off. Heading back home, going about their lives the same way it’s always been for them.

When I get home, I’ll have to start packing my life away into cardboard boxes.

I shook the thought away quickly.

It was eerily quiet in the church now the everyone headed out. It was time for me to confront Copia...again.

I walked out of the chapel and into the great foyer of the church, looking up to see the stained glass murals of all the previous Papas embedded into the wall. The sun shining on the glass from the outside making the hall glow in certain colors of the memorial pieces.

I’m gonna miss this place.

I reach the end of the hall where Copia’s office was. I quietly sigh and rap my knuckles against the wooden door. I heard a faint, “Who is it?”

“Copia...it’s me.”

There was no response, but I waited at the door.

“I want to talk to you, Copia...please.” I almost whined, leaning my head against the door.

I quickly took a couple steps back when I started to hear footsteps approach, quickly opening the door to reveal Copia. He was out of his Anti-pope robes and into his regular suit, his Papa paint almost completely off, but it still looked smudged in places.

If only he used the makeup remover wipes I brought him...

I stepped into the office, turned around and closed the door. Turning back, Copia was back at his desk. He was sitting on the desk top, his right leg swinging slightly, looking at me expectantly. “Well?” He said.

“Copia, I-”

“It’s Papa.” He deadpanned.

I sighed in frustration. “I never wanted this to happen, Copia.”

“Then why? Why are you choosing to move?”

“I...” I tried holding back tears, making my eyes burn. “It’s my parents...”

“Your parents are making you move?” He laughed bitterly. “I thought you were a grown woman who could make decisions for herself?”

I looked down, gravity forcing the tears out of my eyes, landing on the floor with muted thud.

I heard Copia sigh. The desk creaked slightly when he stood up from it, hearing his footsteps get closer until he was right in front of me.

He tucked his pointer finger under my chin and gently raised my head, making me look into his eyes that seemed regretful.

“Why are you moving, cara mia?” He asked softly.

“I don’t want my parents to think I abandoned them.” I whimpered.

“Oh, mia dolce, your parents aren’t going to think you abandoned them if you wanted to stay.” Copia cooed, now caressed my hair. “All the times you said you couldn’t join us, was it because of your parents?”

I reluctantly nodded. “They...they need me.”

“Come on.” Copia suddenly started pulling me towards the office telephone. “Call them. Tell them what you really feel.”

I blushed and started panicking. “W-what? N-no! I can’t do that!”

He sighed, and started dialing my parents’ phone number. “I know you parents, cara mia. They’ll understand. Trust me.” He said.

I was panicked as the phone rang, but seeing how confident Copia was about my parents made me feel a little less stressed. Him holding my hand the entire time helped too.

“Hello?” The cheery voice of my mom answered.

“M-mom?” My voice trembled.

“Oh hi, dear! We were just packing! Are you still at the church?”

I sigh, here goes. “Mom, I...I don’t want to move. I want to stay here. I love it here so much, and...I want to join the church! I want to become a member...are you mad?”

I flinched when my mom laughed loudly into the phone, making me furrow my eyebrows. “Honey, I was wondering when you were gonna break!”

“W-what?”

“You don’t think I know my own child? I knew you were going to stay at that church. Your father and I actually made a bet to see how long you’d put up with all this moving shit!” She laughed again.

“Wait...so, you’re not mad?” I asked, still shocked.

“Of course not, sweetie! I know how much that church makes you happy. All we want is for you to be happy, hon.”

“I thought you needed me.”

“Oh sweetheart, we’ll always need you. But if you’re happy, then we’re happy. We knew you weren’t gonna stay with us forever! You have a life too, as well as us. Plus, we’re not 90 year old people who need someone to carry us every time we need to take a shit! We can take care of ourselves.”

I looked over to Copia with a grin, and he smiled back softly and mouthed, “I told you so.”

“Now, come home and help us pack up all out shit!” My mom said with a laugh and hung up.

As soon as she hung up, I squealed in joy and jumped into Copia’s arms. He staggered back by sudden force of my happiness, but he laughed breathlessly. “Didn’t I say to trust me?” He said as he pulled away, looking at me with a goofy grin.

I don’t know what came over me, but I reached out and brought his face down to mine, shocking him still when I pushed my lips up against his.

I quickly realized what I was doing and pulled away. “Uh...I’m so sorry! I don’t-”

Copia cut me off mid-sentence, bringing me into another spur of the moment kiss.

I immediately relaxed and reciprocated his kiss, reaching up to tangle my fingers in his slicked back hair and him bringing his arms to wrap around my waist to pull me closer. I smile into the kiss, feeling his mustache tickle at my sensitive skin.

This moment was perfect.

We both pulled away. The heat of moment taking our breath away, making us both take deep inhales to get oxygen rushing to the brain.

“Cara mia, I’ve waited for this moment for so long.” Copia smiled.

I let him know that I felt the same way by giving him another peck on the lips. “Looks like you’re stuck with me from now on.” I grinned.

“That is not something to feel bad about, mia dolce.”

“Not at all.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Don’t really know how churches of Satan go about having services if they even have them, but in my dream we were in a regular looking church soooo...

What I actually saw in my dream: Copia not having a reaction to me leaving (what a heartless bastard) and the stained glass murals to the Papas.

#the band ghost #ghost band fanfiction #cardinal copia #cardinal copia fanfiction #i love my dreams

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kyidyl · 4 years ago

Text

Kyidyl Does Archaeology - Part 6

(yep, the rest of the parts of this are all under the KyidylCL tag, in case you happen across just this one.)

Rocks and...other stuff

Ok so here we are...we’ve arrived at my least favorite thing. Lithics. I’ll be honest with you guys, my disinterest in lithics means that I don’t have a lot to add here. But...I’ll do what I can.

So, first off, we’ve found *thousands* of lithics on this site. It is by far the most common thing we have. We’ve found broken tools, used up tools, intact points, fire cracked rock, like...the whole nine. One of the things you can learn from lithics is how far people were going to get their rock. For example, we have a lot of jasper in our lithics, so we know they were going up onto the nearby mountain because that’s where the nearest jasper deposits are. I *absolutely* am not the right person to go into a detailed account here, but I do know that they were going pretty far away to get their supplies - even over to the other side of the mountains. Or at least they were trading with people in closer proximity to those places.

I think what’s amazing to me is the degree to which they work quartz and quartzite. Here’s one of the points we found:

I’m pretty sure, if I’m remembering the things the Rock Guy told me correctly, that point is made of quartzite. Quartz and quartzite are very hard (7/7.5 on the Mohs scale aka the rock hardness scale.), so working them is difficult. I don’t know how to do it, but I know it must have taken either an impressive amount of brute force or an impressive amount of energy. Either way, it’s neat. Hell I found a piece of quartz the last time I was in the field (which I don’t have, or I’d show you.) that literally looked like it was cut like a gemstone. It’s more likely it came out of a geode but still, they did cool shit with quartz. Some of what we’ve found has been almost as clear as glass.

I’m aware that the style a point is made in (and everything that is, well, pointy...is a point. It includes spear tips, arrow heads, etc.) is indicative of the age of a site, but I don’t know enough here to go into it and we’ve already covered age in the pottery and digging post (it’s late woodland - early contact, c. 1300s - 1700s), so I’m just gonna show you some cool pictures.

First point that we found...

Same hole, another point. Probably both are arrowheads given the size. The one I’m holding up in the picture up there was probably a spear, not an arrowhead. Arrowheads are actually really small.

Here’s another weird rock:

It’s weird because that one in the upper right has that groove in it and is kinda squished. to me it looks like a tile, which would be really anachronistic to this particular site, and our Rock Guy assures me this is a natural thing, but these rocks have something on them I’ve been finding on a lot of the lithics: a red residue. You can see it pretty clearly on the top surface on the center rock, but it’s in the grooves on the right one too. These rocks didn’t come out of the pit with the red dirt, so it’s not like...red dirt from burning. To me it looks like ocre, but this is one of those areas where my knowledge base just comes up short and I need to wait for someone who knows more to look at them. But lets just say that I have this experience often where I’ll say something like “this looks like ocre” and people will be like “nooo, that doesn’t make sense” and then they’ll spend some time with the artefact and be like “hey look at this it looks like ocre” and I’m over here like....yes....I know....I told you that weeks ago...perhaps if I’d found a way to say it in a male voice we wouldn’t be having this conversation. x.x Aaaaannnnnyway.

Another kind of rock we have are fire-cracked rocks. Back in the day they used to heat rocks in the fire and then put them in pots to boil the water. They often reuse them, and after a few uses the constant “hot rock plunged into cold water” thing causes them to crack. It’s *extremely* common to find this all over the world. I saw it at the site I worked in England, too, when we were digging the Roman stuff. And it’s always kind of confused me because even though water boils basically instantly when you add the very hot rock, it would likely take longer for the rock to heat up than it would to just, y’know, boil the water, so why use the rocks? Then it occurred to me: because the rocks were just casually tossed into fires that weren’t being used for cooking. So you toss a few into the fire you’re using for warmth or for smoking or whatever in the morning and by the time dinner rolls around you just grab some rocks that’ve been in the fire all day and you toss them into a pot of water. Multitasking ftw! I would find some pics for you but I’m NGL guys, they just look like stones that’ve been cracked in half. People weren’t all that picky about the type or anything like that.

So yeah, that’s rocks, now who wants to see some weird shit? You, obviously, YOU want to see some weird shit.

Weird Shit

First up, because I STILL haven’t figured out why this is like this, we have this bone:

Ok honestly I’m only like 93% sure it’s a small piece of bone, but like...it’s definitely natural. It’s been burned for awhile but the weird part here is that IT’S GREEN. Now that’s not in and of itself weird - this is what happens to bone when there’s some metal nearby. It often leaves behind green staining on bones. But there was no metal in the ground here, and this thing was pretty deep. Below the civil war trench stuff. So I have no idea why it’s green like this.

This...thing. No idea what it is. Roughly a quarter inch long, metallic...looks like slag but, again, came out of a hole that was really too deep for us to be finding iron in (in this case, iron is a modern contaminant or something you’d only find in the top - IE, later - layers.). Meteorite, maybe? We’ve found some other weird stuff like this too but it was from much higher layers.

The back and front of a piece of bone that is too small for me to make a determination as to whether or not it’s human without like...a microscope. I don’t have one. I mean it probably *isn’t* human, but the color is right, soooo...IDK I just thought it was weird.

This is another small, weird, brown thing. BUT! it’s a different kind of small, weird brown thing than the other one. The other one passes the magnet test and fails to leave a streak when wet. This one fails the magnet test but left a brown streak on my skin when wet (no...I didn’t lick this one). So I’m pretty sure it’s a coprolite, but I’ve never handled them before so I’m not entirely certain. It looks like one to me, though (coprolite is very old poop. Poop is important bc it informs on diet and stuff. There have been literal fights and thefts in the archaeological community over coprolites.). This came out of one of the test pits and we haven’t dug over there yet so IDK.

This next bit is less weird and more cool.

This is a very small, very burned piece of bone but it’s cool for two reasons. One, see that long light-color diagonal mark in the lower right area of the top surface? That’s either a butchery mark or more tooth marks. I learn towards butchery becaaaaause....see how flat this is? That only happens when it’s been cut by people. Bones don’t break clean and flat like that, the crack or they splinter. When they crack they do it vertically because that is with the grain of the bone. This is horizontal, or across the grain. They have to be cut to look so flat. Here’s another example from the test pits:

See? Perfectly flat across the grain. This one has also been cut and burned. The white color of the two bones means they’ve been burned for a long time at a high temperature. All of the collagen - the soft stuff - gets burned off when you do it for long enough and at a high enough temperature and the minerals are left behind. Both of these images are macro images on bones that are smaller than an inch.

Ok, one more weird thing:

This is actually the back and front of a rock. It’s flat on both sides like pottery, but it tasted like a rock and it has no temper so...rock. But in that top image it has some kind of dark residue on it that almost looks like rust or paint, and the opposite side has small marks that look like cut marks or tool marks. I’m not sure what kind of rock it was, but it also had a dry, sandy texture to it. IDK it was just weird. The marks could just be damage over time to the rock (what we call taphonomic damage.), but the residue is pretty strange.

Anyway, that about wraps it up. I think that what I’m gonna do is start going through the uncleaned material I have downstairs (I got sidetracked by covid and the holidays. :P) and start posting what I found or anything out of the ordinary, if you guys want anyway. Thanks for sticking around through this long series of posts about the site I work at, and I hope you enjoyed it. As always, if you have any questions my askbox is open. :)

#archaeology #kyidylCL #science #cool stuff #real life #lithics #and mysteries

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melodious-madrigals · 5 years ago

Text

big spoon, little spoon

Prompt fill for @wondertrevnet‘s Lockout Bingo.

Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Diana/Steve Prompt: Fluff Word Count: 3351 Rating: T? (Some really obliquely referenced sexism, I guess.) Summary: 5 times Diana and Steve were disgustingly cute and very happy (+0 times that they weren't because this is fluff). Literally just fluff, Steve & Diana loving each other a lot. Idk what else to tell you. This is part ii of lost love (sweeter when it’s finally found), and you can read the first chapter here.

Find this fic below the cut or on AO3.

***

Notes: Takes place a year or two after Hades deposits Steve in Diana's living room. I'd planned a vaguely angstier fic for my next release, but then I had such a shitty 72 hours that I did not want anyone to feel anything but fluffy, so I rearranged the line-up. please enjoy 3k words of wondertrev being happy and loving each other very much.

***

Even in the modern age, Diana remains partial to keeping track of things the old fashioned way. She has a Google calendar like every professional, of course, but all her meetings are also written neatly in a little diary she keeps; her personal life and JL extracurriculars are also neatly coded and transcribed in their own colors in the planner. She writes grocery lists and to-do lists on spare bits of paper, and takes meeting notes in a leatherbound notebook, unless specifically required to be working on an electronic document. She finds there's something satisfying about seeing the ink in front of her.

Yesterday, for example, she jotted a quick to-do list on a sheet of notepaper, and then tacked it to the fridge, so she'd remember to do items three (water succulents on the kitchen and bathroom window sills) and five (check cream level after Steve finishes his coffee) before she leaves in the morning.

She glances over the other eleven items, mentally ticking off what can be completed today while she's running errands on her way to work, and her eyes land on the last line.

There, scrawled in curling letters under her own tight font, is an addition that certainly wasn't there last night: 14. Kiss your husband.

She smiles. That one she'll have no problem checking off.

Steve's out on the terrace, still sipping his coffee, halfway through a crossword puzzle. She swoops in without warning, dropping a quick kiss to his lips, and then another to the top of his head, before whipping out her list and checking off number fourteen.

"Wait, come back," says Steve, setting down the paper.

"I don't know; I'm having a very productive morning and I've already checked it off," Diana teases. "I might have to move on to other things."

"No fair," he pouts.

"The post office is open already," she continues blithely, brandishing the to-do list. "I should probably go there directly."

In a flash, Steve has leaned forward and snatched the list right out of her hands.

"Steve!" she cries, and lunges for it, but by the time their little scuffle is over and it's back in her hands, 15. Let your husband kiss you is scrawled messily along the bottom.

"Well," she says, smirking despite herself, "if the list says so, I can't argue."

"I'm glad you've seen sense," says Steve, leaning in with a gleam in his eye.

She doesn't manage to tick anything else off before work—ends up rushing not to be late, in fact—but she's always felt it's important to be thorough when completing tasks.

***

ii.

It's rainy and gross, the weather just cold enough that it's unpleasant, but not so cold that the rain has turned into snow or sleet. Unfortunately, it's a Thursday.

When Diana's alarm goes off, she groans, and sticks her head under a pillow, and then pulls the duvet over them both.

"Play hooky with me," Steve says sleepily from next to her.

"I cannot just skip work."

"And how many sick days do you have accrued?" asks Steve, who knows perfectly well that the number is high, because Diana doesn't get sick the way mortals do.

Diana mumbles something from under the pillow.

"What was that?"

"...a lot," she says, grudgingly. "But that would be lying; I'm not sick."

"Mental health days are a thing now," reasons Steve. "And how many projects are due today?"

"You know perfectly well there's nothing big until next Wednesday."

Steve burrows under the duvet, so that they're face to face and hidden from the outside world.

"Are we going to do anything productive?"

"Not a damn thing."

"Yes, I suppose that does sound nice."

"Excellent! I lie for a living. I'll telephone both our jobs."

Steve gets up, and Diana rolls into the warm spot he left behind. She can hear the soft murmur of his voice though the wall, and five minutes later he's slipping back into bed, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

"All set."

She snuggles into him, and they fall back to sleep to the patter of the rain.

When Diana wakes up the second time, it's raining harder still, but there's the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Steve's sitting up, still in pajamas, reading.

She must've been more tired than she thought, because it's rare that Steve wakes up first.

Diana blinks back the sleep in her eyes and takes a moment to appreciate the picture Steve paints, with his tousled hair and reading glasses. He looks soft and sleepy and perfect, and suddenly she's extremely glad he convinced her to take the day off.

Steve glances over at her, and looks mildly surprised to find she's awake.

He bookmarks his page with care, and then leans over and grabs a steaming mug that was outside her line of vision, offering it to her.

"I did not even hear you get up to make coffee."

"You clearly needed the sleep," Steve says.

"Maybe." Diana sighs, "I suppose I should not lay in bed all day."

"Then I've got just the thing." He offers her a hand, and she lets him lead her out of the bedroom.

In their living room, instead of the normal furniture configuration, there's a glowing mass of sheets. It seems that Steve has taken it upon himself to make a blanket fort, and has decorated it with a string of lights he must have found at the back of the closet. She really can't believe she slept through this.

"You have been looking at Pinterest again, haven't you?"

"No comment."

"It's lovely."

"There's nothing inside, yet. I thought we could do that bit together."

It's perfect, so she says so.

They pull some cushions off the couch and drag their duvet in too, and all of a sudden, the blanket fort is complete and they have a wonderful little rainy-day nest.

"Breakfast in blanket fort?"

She bites her lip and nods. "But in a minute," she adds, catching his hand in hers before he can move away, and for a moment, they lay on their backs, enjoying the flickering lights.

***

iii.

Diana walks into a massacre.

"What happened here?" Deep red stains cover half the visible surfaces.

Steve looks up, guiltily.

"I spilled cold water on one of the hot jars, and it exploded."

"So just to confirm, none of it is your blood?"

"It's one hundred percent cherry preserves."

Diana breathes a sigh of relief. "That is far easier to fix," she says, slipping her arms around his waist from the back and swooping in to kiss his cheek.

Steve spins in her arms to face her. "It was a rookie mistake. With the amount of jam I've made in my lives, it should never have happened."

Diana sweeps a bit of the exploded cherry preserve off of his cheek with her thumb, and then ducks out of his hold to taste it.

"It is excellent."

Steve grins affably, and rinses both his hands and the rag he's holding. "Good, there are a dozen more jars of it cooling in the dining room."

"Only a dozen?" asks Diana in genuine surprise, because Steve has been known to go a little overboard when it comes to making jams.

"Plus a dozen each of raspberry and blueberry preserves."

"Ahh," she says, nodding. That makes a great deal more sense.

"I already cleaned up the glass, and was going to wipe everything down and start on the peaches. Care to join me?"

Diana knows next to nothing about canning and preserving and jellying, but she missed it last year when the Justice League called her out of town unexpectedly. There's no way she's missing it again this year.

"Tell me where to start," she says, smiling.

"With clothes you don't mind getting dirty, for one. As I've clearly demonstrated," Steve jokes, gesturing at his aproned (and sticky) body.

Diana glances down at her several-hundred euro suit, and then makes for the bedroom. "I'll only be a moment."

"I've got nothing but time!" Steve calls after her, jovially.

When she comes back out—now dressed in an ancient t-shirt that she's stolen back from Steve (after he stole it from her last year) and jeans so soft they're practically threadbare—she pauses in the doorframe, watching Steve. He's mostly mopped up the cherry preserves, and he's humming as he towels up the bit that somehow managed to get on the backsplash.

He's probably been at this for hours, and despite the mishap, he's still in an excellent mood. It makes her smile softly.

He catches her eye just as he hits the chorus of the soft '80s song he's singing, and he pulls her behind the island and spins her around. She laughs and plays along, and they rock back and forth a few times, Diana joining him on the last chorus as he hands her an apron.

"If you want to start pitting the peaches, I'll finish cleaning the pot."

They chat about their days as they work (Diana gets a play-by-play of the events leading up to the exploding jar, and Steve gets a run-down on the passive-aggressive email war she's having with the British Museum), and eventually Steve comes over to help her pit and cut the fruit.

Once everything has been dumped into the large copper jam pot, they turn up the radio and dance around the kitchen to old music, stirring intermittently until the peach compote has simmered down and thickened enough that it's time to jar and let it set.

"That was fun," Diana says, as they finish the washing up. Their dining room table has been completely overtaken by jams and preserves cooling in quaint-looking Mason jars, but it's worth it.

"I'm hoping to make elderberry jam still this year, and apple jelly in the late autumn, if you'd like to join me," Steve says, a dish-towel flung over his shoulder. (It's very cute.)

"It's a date," Diana declares, and she sees his eyes flick to her lips.

A second later, their lips meet, slow and languid, and Diana sighs into the kiss. Steve's lips taste vaguely sweet, a little like the peach jam they'd swiped samples of while they worked, and hers probably do too.

If Steve's lucky, he might be able to steal the t-shirt back yet this evening.

***

iv.

There's tittering outside her office, which—if Diana had been paying attention—would've tipped her off twenty minutes ago to the fact that Steve is here. Her interns are a bit of a gossipy bunch this year, and they've all taken a shine to Steve. (Apparently he's the most interesting thing to happen to the office, and the presence of the seemingly straight-laced Mme. Prince's charming significant other is always cause for news in a way little else is.)

As it happens, she's in the middle of updating the care manuals for several artifacts that are about to be going on loan, and misses all the signs until there's a distinctive tap on her door, and Steve lets himself in.

She's always pleased to see him, and doubly so since he's been away for the past ten days on a mission with ARGUS.

"Hello, my love," she says, and leans forward over the desk to give him a quick kiss, before returning to her paper.

A moment later, she looks up, doing a spectacular double take. "You are home early!" exclaims Diana, moving out from behind her desk to give him a proper hug and another kiss.

Steve laughs, and kisses her a third time, on the nose.

"We were in and out without any loose ends to take care of. It went as smoothly as could be expected."

"I'm glad you're home."

"Me too. Care to celebrate with a quick dinner?"

Diana sighs. "I would love to, but these need to be sent out early tomorrow morning."

"Oh, come on. You need to eat at some point. Besides," says Steve. "I've still got the time dilator we found on mission if you need to get the reports done later."

"Steve," she scolds, although there's very little heat to it. "You are not considering used banned tech just for a little extra time with me tonight."

"To have dinner with you at a reasonable hour? I absolutely am." He looks at her imploringly. "We'll just slip out to the little Thai place you love and be back in an hour or two."

Diana has known she was going to give in from the moment he suggested it, but she still scrunches her face a little. "Oh, all right." Steve's victorious smile is actually adorable, and they pass a lovely couple of hours catching up on the last few days.

They get back to her office around 21h00, and instead of leaving, Steve pulls out his laptop.

"You don't have to," Diana protests. "It's late."

Steve just shrugs. "I need to work on my mission report anyways."

Diana acquiesces, simply because she's not-so-secretly pleased to have the company.

(They only have to use the time dilator once.)

Later, after Diana has everything squared away, they decide to walk home, despite the distance and the hour.

They amble along the Seine, arm in arm. The soft light of Paris never gets old, especially the way the hazy reflections ripple in the river. For all the madness of the afternoon, it's been a good day. Diana leans her head on Steve's shoulder, and they stroll on.

***

Midway through her diatribe, Diana flops down in front of him, and leans against his legs, seeking comfort in her frustration. Steve's hands immediately find her hair, and he gently starts rubbing circles into her scalp as she continues the impassioned rant that began a while ago in the kitchen, "—and it is infuriating, because it is not my department, you understand? The only recourse is to file an official complaint, but that could take ages and ages and until then, they are using an outdated method that could potentially cause lasting damage to the artifacts!"

Steve hums sympathetically when Diana pauses to take a sip (well, a swig) of wine, and he splits a bit of her hair to start braiding as she adds, "These are pieces of cultural history, Steve. They should be treated with the utmost respect so that they last for generations to come to tell our history, and instead Michel is going to keep using a compound that will eventually compromise the integrity of the color!"

Steve knows there's a lot of complicated inter-departmental politics and squabbles that mean there's no good way to address the problem.

"—and the way he treats Sophie!" Diana huffs, a clear indication that they're back to Michel—a frequent source of frustration—but on a personal note this time.

"Hair tie," interjects Steve, and without missing a beat, she flicks one off her wrist and hands it to him so he can finish off the braid neatly.

"It is disgusting, and she does not wish to file a complaint, which I understand is her choice, but it still makes me cringe. I wish he would try it on me, because I would break his—"

Diana's phone pings, cutting her off, and she sags against Steve.

"You know you can keep going," Steve says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, because the content of the rant isn't funny, but the situation is. Several weeks ago, they'd decided to try cutting back on work talk in an effort to keep a healthier work-/home-life balance, and almost invariably, one of them blows through the artificially-imposed time limit. (For reference, Diana holds more blow-throughs, but it was him yesterday, and the day before.) "You don't actually have to stop just because the timer went off."

"It was my idea," Diana says ruefully, running her hand down the tight French braid, subconsciously checking it, "and I still maintain it is a good plan, I am just—"

"Very passionate about things you perceive to be injustices, big or small, yeah, I know," Steve grins. This isn't anything new.

Diana twists around to face him, and rolls her eyes at his expression. "You love me for it."

"Yeah, I do," says Steve, still smiling.

Diana sighs. "The conversation will still be here tomorrow, and I will probably still be annoyed. There is little use in continuing now."

"Unless you want to rant," Steve points out. "That's valid."

"I do, but it will not actually make me feel better. It is not cathartic if it just makes me angrier," says Diana. "Best to step away."

"Want me to set up a bath?"

"No, just come cuddle with me in bed."

"I'll never say no to that."

"Yes, but you have to be the big spoon this time," Diana says.

"I still won't say no, even if little spoon is by far the superior of the two."

Her ensuing laugh rings through the apartment, and her hand skims along the plait again.

"Almost as good as Selene's," she muses, and Steve takes it as the compliment that it is: Selene is an Amazon friend known for the intricacy and skill of her braiding techniques.

"Okay, one good thing about today?" prompts Steve, once they're curled up in bed. They've begun making it a habit to practice gratefulness each evening before bed. Steve read about it in a mindfulness book, and when he'd mentioned it offhandedly, Diana had immediately been on board. "Other than the fact that it's over," he adds, seeing the look on Diana's face.

"You," says Diana, reflexively.

"You say that every night," laughs Steve.

"It does not stop being true."

"I think it's supposed to be something different, each time. To accumulate things you're grateful for."

Diana grumbles, but does pause to come up with something else. "The magnolia trees I pass on my walk to work," she says, finally. "They are in bloom right now, and they brighten my day."

If Steve could answer you, or even say the little smile on Diana's face as she speaks, without sounding like a hypocrite, he would. "I found a little patisserie up by the Bastille that has these lovely little raspberry pastries."

"Mmmm," says Diana, smiling. "You do love raspberries." Then, after a pause, in a softer voice: "The fact that I get to take little things for granted, now, and pretend I do not have to specify the little things for which I am grateful. I know I am not supposed to say you, but I am grateful that you are holding me now."

They talk drowsily for a bit, but soon succumb to sleep.

Here's the thing.

It's Steve's personal policy to never lie to Diana. That's, like, a pretty basic relationship foundation thing, and it's not something he's ever had trouble with.

But there's one white lie that he doesn't suspect he'll ever come clean about: despite what he tells Diana, he doesn't actually think being little spoon is better than being big spoon.

He likes to hold her, likes getting to nose at her neck and loop his arm around her waist. (Big spoon is also less prone to overheating, which does happen sometimes.)

But Steve also knows that Diana sleeps better as big spoon, that being able to physically hold on to him in her sleep is comforting, a balm after years of night terrors and bad dreams and waking up to empty sheets. It's a small price to pay, in the end, knowing that him being the little spoon makes her happy.

It's a secret he'll take with him to the grave.

Steve wakes up in the dead of night, the shadows still long over the bed, the ambient light from Paris's streetlamps a soft glow along the bottom of the windows. It's the foggy sort of waking that means it'll be easy to slip back under, a mere footnote in the night. Just before he drifts off again, he notices that he's now the little spoon. He sighs contentedly, smiles, and falls back asleep.

#wondertrev #wondertrevbingo2020 #wondertrev fanfic #wondertrev fic #diana x steve #steve x diana #fluff #pure fluff #steve just loves diana so much #just quarantine things #lenci writes

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