#like i said earlier: exclamation points!!!!

[sickwhispers]

Ur so cool for making stuff for dandys world💚 Im asking so politely for you to write Dazzle x Reader pretty pls? 🙏🙏🙏I like never see any Dazzle love

WING MAN

Pairing: Dazzle x reader

Relationship: romantic

Warning:

Type: headcanons + drabble

Hand written letters seem to be the only way he'd be able to express his fondness towards you

Letters about his day, how he had messed up while extracting a machine, how sad it made him, how the only reason he hadn't broke down crying on the spot was because you had smiled his way

Sometimes, he wonders if you save those smiles for him

Keeping them locked away for the rest of the day, only revealing the true kindness behind them the moment you two make eye contact

Razzle likes to tease him a lot

Most of the time, it ends with Razzle trying to convince him to talk to you

But there's always a new excuse

Dazzle wants to talk to you,

He really does

Although, when it comes to how he thinks those scenarios would play out, it always end in some sort of tragedy

He might stumble over his words; he might end up tripping both him and Razzle in front of you

He might even bring you down in the process

There were too many risks

Too many possibilities of embarrassing himself in front of you

No matter how many times Razzle seems to try and convince him to talk to you, every conversation ends with an excuse not to

At some point, razzle just ends up deciding to do it himself

Dazzle stares at the letter held in your hands, eye twitching as you try to explain how you had found it earlier in your room. According to your story, you had arrived in your bedroom after a long run extracting machines and distracting twisted to help save your friends, only to find a little white envelope placed neatly on your bedside table.

The letter, once you had opened it, stated it had been from Dazzle. Which confused him to no end, considering he had no recollection of writing it. You had almost laughed while reading it if you were being honest. You've known Dazzle for a quite a while now. And, you've come to learn how he prefers writing. There's always a melancholic tone in his words, his sentences short and simple. And yet, at the same time, there's always a deep hidden emotion behind the way he chooses to phrase them.

Dazzle takes a second to look over at his polar opposite. And it doesn't take long to notice how Razzle seemed to keep his gaze fixated on the wall. You try to speak, noticing the growing tension between the two of them, but before you could get a word out, Razzle speaks up.

"So-! What did you think of the letter? You know, the one your holding? The one Dazzle sent?" Even now, there seemed to be an almost anxious tone in his voice. A brittle laugh slipping past him as he made quick eye contact with you before glancing away again. However, this time, it seemed to have fallen on Dazzle.

"Well... it seems to have an overwhelming amount of positivity, considering dazzle wrote this." You fiddle with the note in hand, rereading the paragraph after paragraph. There had been a lot of exclamation points—more than what would have been appropriate to use. Along with the unusual way each sentence had been worded, there was almost an alarming amount of 'please.' "And a lot of desperation..."

"Y-you don't... uh... have to answer it. I already know what you'll say..." after hearing the last thing you said, Dazzle only seemed to cave into himself, attempting to step back and give himself more room. But, razzle only continued to keep the both of them firm in place. His eyes shooting Dazzle a quick glance, attempting to reassure him of his worries.

Despite how awkward the situation had turned out, you had accepted the letter

Your eyes scanning over the simple topic that had been painted across each paraphrase

The phrase "go on a date with me?" Being obvious among the array of sentences

Dazzle had seemed shocked when you accepted. Eyes widening as he watched you nod up and down

Yet, Razzle, on the other hand, had been fairly confident you would answer that way

And, after this whole ordeal, he made a mental note to thank Poppy for being the mailman for him

It was tricky having to write a love letter in the dark. in bed. While Dazzle was asleep

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Dialogue

Dialogue is a spoken exchange between multiple characters in a play, film, TV show, or another type of creative writing.

Writing dialogue reveals character development, speech patterns, and mannerisms, which can also propel the plot forward.

Often, authors employ realistic dialogue that captures how specific people speak.

Sometimes they use direct dialogue (showing what a character wants), and other times they are rich in subtext (illuminating depth beneath the surface of the exchange).

How to Format Dialogue Dialogue formatting can show verbal exchanges between two characters effectively.

Consider these guidelines on how to punctuate dialogue:

Quotation marks. Writers should use double quotation marks to encase a character’s spoken words. Single quotation marks may appear within dialogue when someone is quoting another.

Dialogue tag. Writers typically insert a comma at the end of a sentence as a dialogue tag to denote the speaker (such as: “Let’s eat,” Travis said.). The comma should appear comma before the closing set of quotation marks.

Closing punctuation after quotation marks. An exclamation point or question mark may also appear before the closing quotation marks.

New paragraph. When characters talk back and forth to one another, start a new section each time another character speaks a line of dialogue.

How to Write Dialogue

Consider the following writing tips from Judy Blume on how to craft strong dialogue:

Dialogue breaks up your text. Writers can use dialogue to enliven long blocks of text. “I'll flip through a book, and if it's dense, dense, dense, dense, no paragraphs, no dialogue, I don't want to read it,” Judy says. “But dialogue lightens up your book on the page. You want white space on the page. Dialogue gives you that: playlets, I often put in little playlets in my book; it's like a little play within a scene.”

To write better dialogue, read more of it. Authors write great dialogue by reading great dialogue. “Reading and reading and reading, you will find what's good dialogue, what you think is good dialogue, and what you think is wooden and not very good dialogue,” Judy says. “And you will learn from that just by reading it and reading it and going to the next book and finding it because it's there. It's in every novel. There's dialogue.”

Keep your word choice simple. In a few of her earlier works, Judy did not use the word “said” when writing dialogue. “I decided that I would write this whole novel without ever using he word ‘said,’ that said was such a boring word,” she says. “‘He said.’ ‘She said.’ I had my thesaurus by my side, and my characters did everything but say. My characters exclaimed. They beguiled. And they did everything but say. Throw away your thesaurus when you’re writing.”

Write realistic voices. Developing a character’s voice requires observing real-life exchanges and using smart word choices. “It’s a question of capturing the way people talk when they're talking to each other on the street, you know, in the workplace, wherever,” Judy says. “Your characters should each speak as themselves, meaning they are believable and recognizable.”

Source ⚜ Writing References: Worldbuilding ⚜ Plot ⚜ Character More: Better Dialogue ⚜ Children's Dialogue ⚜ Dialogue Prompts

[onlyjaeyun]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 – 𝟓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨

↬ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔, 𝐂𝐄𝐎!𝐉𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

↬ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒.𝟒𝐤

↬ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬𝐬/𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭

↬ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐄𝐎.

"Oh, my God!"

Your sudden exclamation of excitment startles both of your friends, their pretty eyes quickly shifting from their plate of snacks to your face, waiting for you to continue.

The alcohol has already made its way into your system and different than both Aeri and Jimin, you're more of a lightweight, so it didn't take more then three shots for you to get tipsy. But after a week, especially this particular dad, so exhausting and challenging, you're more than just ready to let it all go and enjoy yourself.

Working for Park Jongseong has definitely been...an experience. Your schedule isn't as demanding and physically exhausting as your previous part time jobs, yet the responsibility being a secretary comes with has definitely taken its mental toll on you. The urge to do everything as perfect as possible, just because you're genuinely afraid of disappointing your boss is a lot more than you thought and at this point you're not quite sure if you can actually handle it all.

To your luck, you've got something similar to a week off, due to Park Jongseong's physical absence, yet you're pretty sure you'll still have enough to do until he's back. It's not like you don't actually enjoy your job, it's more about your subconscious desire to please and satisfy your boss to gain his validation and approval.

Before you can actually get to the part where you curse at your father for not being part of your life, you turn your phone to show your girls the chat between you and Park Nayeon, your self proclaimed guardian angel, who is about to head over to the manifesto as well, leaving all three of you incredibly excited.

"That's so cool", Aeri giggles and takes a sip from her cute little cocktail, "I really hope she spends some time with us, too. I sound like a pathetic school girl who wants to be friends with the school's IT girl, what the fuck."

Her self awareness has you all chuckling, the music blaring in the background as you're all too comfortable to actually get up and dance. But neither one of you cares enough as the drinks do exactly what they're supposed to do and the need for sexual satisfaction from earlier has almost completely disappeared.

"Apparently it's Lee Heeseung's birthday", you say after reading Nayeon's next messages, "and Seoul's big four are headed here to celebrate. Yeonie said she's gonna try and have us invited into the VIP section as well."

It's this particular statement which has the three of you stop in your tracks. Just the thought of spending a night at the club with the four most important men of the company you all work for seems a lot less inviting than a single addition to your girls' night.

Jimin takes a deep breath and from the way she nervously puts her drink down, you can tell that the anxiety has yet to lose the fight against the alcohol in her system.

"I'm out", she quickly says and looks around, "I can't even look Mr. Park in the eyes when we happen to get into the same elevator at the company, there's no way I'm going to party with him. Or whatever he does at a club like this."

With a soft nod you agree with her words, feeling quite similar about your boss' presence, especially after the praising incident from earlier today.

"Let's just head out and have some beef at Ruby's", you say and start looking around to find one of the pretty waitresses who played a huge role in the greatness of your night.

"Oh, come on, babes!" Aeri suddenly says and looks at the two of you with her pretty lips pushed into a faux pout to gain your sympathy.

"Just an hour", she says and scoots closer to you on the little couch you're both seated in, "and then we'll leave and the meat's on me, I promise."

Jimin quickly shoots you a look of uncertainty, which you simply mirror as you start nibboing on your bottom lip.

You really don't want to run into your boss and his friends, no matter how nice they are, they're still your superiors and you can't help but feel like you're under constant observation when it comes to them.

On top of it all you really, really don't want Park Jongseong to look at you and remember the things you had said a few hours ago, the embarrassment and humiliation still very prominent in your guts.

But you're also more than aware that there probably won't be another opportunity like this for you to spend time with Nayeon, since she's a lot busier than she claims to be and you're usually too shy and hesitant to hit her up.

"I'm so tipsy already", you whine and roll your eyes once you realise you've all silently agreed to stay in this very moment, "I guess I just won't speak. Please don't make me embarrass myself even more, I'm begging you."

"Don't worry, Babe", Aeri says and holds her drink up with a big smile and excitement gleaming in her eyes, "we're going to have a great time!"

Just as you're about to join your best friend, the music suddenly stops and the crowd on the dance floor underneath the three of you as well as everyone else starts cheering, "Happy Birthday" replacing the previous hip hop song and that's when you realise who just arrived.

With big, curious eyes you watch Seoul's most known and loved Bachelors walk into the club, all of them dressed simply, yet as classy as one might expect.

With the owner of the club, TPC's very loved and appreciated CMO and today's birthday boy leading their pack, Lee Heeseung looks as charming and cool as ever. All four of them are dressed in simple dress shirts varying in colors, with their classic slacks, yet adding their own charms to the outfits with individual pieces of jewelry you know cost more than your monthly salary.

You don't even realise who your gaze has shifted to, until his dark eyes meet yours through the crowds of people, as if he felt your presence before actually seeing you.

Park Jongseong.

With your heart thrumming in your throat, you try to calm yourself down, yet as soon as you notice the way his usually so cold and stoic gaze starts roaming your face, you can't stop your brain from remembering your conversation from earlier, jolts of weird excitement and anticipation rushing through you. Maybe you'll actually have a good time with each orher tonight.

"Oh, no, not her."

You don't even get the chance to properly process Aeri's comment as your focus shifts from the CEO to the angel like women on his arm.

Her face is small and petite, shaped like the one of an ancient goddess and for a moment you actually forget to inhale.

Yoo Shiah, one of Seoul's biggest fashion influencers, who just so happens to be the daughter of famous and influential business man Yoo Yongho, one of The Park Company's biggest and most important partners to this date.

You physically can't stop yourself from staring at her and it doesn't take you long to realise it's mostly because of how close she is to your boss, rather than her beauty.

A weird feeling starts spreading in your tummy and like a child caught doing something forbidden, you quickly lower your head. You hate how much the sight of them so close together has affected you within just a few minutes.

You're surprised at your own behavior, since you, just like the entirety of South Korea, knows about the close bond those two share with each other. They're not titled Seoul's couple of the future for nothing after all.

"Let's just say Hi to Yeonie and then leave, please", you say and gulp harshly, too ashamed of the emotions your body's currently trying to process.

You genuinely don't understand where these feelings of envy and jealousy come from. You've only known Park Jongseong for about six weeks and besides the fact that he's never talked to you about anything that's not work related – with today as an exception – there's absolutely no reason for you to feel and think all of these things.

With a soft sigh, you try to hide the sudden wave of sadness overwhelming you, right before you actually curse your absent father for putting you into this situation in the first place.

If he had actually kept his promise and showed up when you needed him to, you wouldn't have gotten your hopes up from a single, simple verbal praise from your boss.

"Yeah, I really don't wanna be around that annoying bitch", Aeri adds casually and downs the rest of her cocktail in one go.

Jimin remains completely silent and for some reason you find comfort in your shared anxiety regarding this particular situation.

By the time the celebration song comes to an end, the four business men as well as their few friends have made their way to the VIP section, finally giving you the room to breathe, only for the loud call of your name have everyone's attention shift to you.

"There she is, the prettiest girl I've ever seen!"

Park Nayeon's voice is filled with excitement, slightly slurred and despite the discomfort of being stared at by your boss and his friends, you can't help but mirror your new friend's big smile as you hand Aeri your glass and get up to approach her.

"I'm so glad we finally got to see each other again!" Her voice is loud and you can feel everyone's eyes boring into you from all sides, but without actually hesitating, you pull the sweet brunette into a tight hug.

"Me too", you say and chuckle at the way she actually places a soft kiss on your cheek, "you look amazing."

"Says you! How does it feel to sit at the table for the sexiest girls in the club?"

Nayeon doesn't miss a beat as she throws her arm over your shoulders and turns to look at your best friends, waving at them with her pretty lips stretched into a bright smile before she introduces herself to your girls.

"Why don't you guys join us in the b-", "Thank you so much, Yeonie. But unfortunately we were just about to leave!"

You're quick to interrupt her to make sure your boss, as well as his friends who have actually approached the four of you as well, hear exactly about your departure.

"Happy birthday, Sir", you say once your gaze lands on the the handsome face of Lee Heeseung, who just thanks you with a soft smile.

"All three of you are sincerely welcome to join us", Sim Jaeyun says and casually shoots you a wink, his plump bottom lip pulled between his teeth and for a moment you can't hide how flustered you get.

The sudden clearance of a throat gains your attention and slightly confused you let your gaze fall to the tallest of the men in front of you.

"Hi there, sweetheart", Park Sunghoon, the company's head lawyer says, his voice just loud enough to reach you through the music and you physically can't stop yourself from smiling even bigger.

"Hi, Hoonie", you smile back and push a strand of hair behind your ear, enjoying the way he seems so genuine when you both know about his reputation.

You'd never sleep with him, not because of the things everyone has to say about him or because he's not your type, but because you'd rather not be part of the girls on his long, long list.

For some reason, your conscience forces you to also verbally acknowledge the main reason for your discomfort, so with a bit of an uncomfortable smile, you turn to look at your boss, who just so happens to have his eyes fixated on you already.

"Good evening, Sir", you say and hate how much you crave his approval, only to be disappointed when Jongseong doesn't deem you worthy of a verbal response. All you get is a nod.

A fucking nod.

"Are you guys sure?", Yeonie asks with genuine sadness in her eyes, yet it's not enough for you to change your mind. You have to leave right now or the mixture of alcohol and anxiety is going to embarrass you to the point of no possible recovery.

"I don't think it's appropriate for us to join you", you suddenly reply way too honest, surprising all of them, including the CEO, with your response, "I know how strict Mr. Park is about keeping things between himself and his employees strictly business, so it's better if we leave now."

Aeri and Minie don't add anything but head movements to your little explanation, too flabbergasted to speak and too overwhelmed to react otherwise.

You have no idea what's gotten into you, the sudden urge to be petty just taking over without giving your brain the time to overthink.

"Well, you're not my employee and these two don't give a fuck about that, too", Sunghoon chuckles and looks at you with amused eyes, "three beats one. We'd love for you all to spend some time with us."

"Come on, Y/N", Lee Heeseung suddenly says and leaves you absolutely defenceless, "are you really going to leave me hanging on my birthday?"

With a quick look to your girls and a nod in response to your silent question, all you can do is shake your head and accept their offer.

The following hour passes with a lot more laughter and silly jokes as well as old high school stories from your boss and his friends than you would have expected, and despite the fact that said superior has yet to acknowledge your existence, you're actually having a good time.

By the time 1AM rolls around, you feel the exhaustion and tiredness of the past week finally catch up on you and with a soft smile, you excuse yourself to go to the ladies' room, refusing your best friends' offer to join you, since you can feel the urge to be by yourself slowly take over you.

After giving yourself five minutes and touching up your lipstick, you make your way back to the group, only for your plans to be stopped as you run into a strong chest.

"What the – Changuk?"

Your ex boyfriend's name leaves your lips almost instinctively as you look up at him and manage to recognize the face you had loved for over a year.

Overwhelmed by the sudden run in, it takes you a good moment to realise that he's wearing a suit, a tiny little label clipped to his chest which approved your assumptions.

"You're a security guard?"

"Well, hello to you too, pretty one", he chuckles and for some reason you forget about your shared past for a single moment. You haven't seen each other in several months, six to be exact. And as your slightly clouded brain tries to stay focused on the most important things, you can't help but somehow feel a sense of comfort hit you.

"Congratulations", Changuk sudddnly says with his pretty lips stretched into a genuine smile, "I heard you got a job at The Park Company."

"Thank you, Chanie", you sigh and try to remain as composed as possible, "I guess I can only give that one back. How come you started working here?"

The two of you catch up a little, your ex boyfriend never once missing the opportunity to start a few flirting attempts, which you determinedly shut down to make sure he doesn't get the wrong message.

You made the mistake of going back to him once, you're not about to make it seen like you'd ever do something as stupid as that again.

As your conversation with the security guard continues, you don't even notice how much time passes, yet you're quite sure nobody would actually notice the length of your absence.

Little do you know that Park Jongseong's eyes have been glued to the very back of the VIP section for the past ten minutes.

And with every additional minute, it seems to get more and more difficult to keep his composure.

Jongseong doesn't understand what it is about you, yet the urge to not only keep you close to himself but also make sure you're alright and well taken care of in general has slowly overtaken every single pore of his body.

He doesn't care about you. He shouldn't. The rules he's set up for himself with your employment are as clear as possible, yet they don't seem enough to stop him from getting up.

With a made up excuse, Jongseong casually makes his way to the very back, knowing he would never forgive himself if something actually did happen to you, even if the possibilities are small.

As he slowly approaches the toilets, Jay can't help but wonder at what point he decided to act on these stupid urges and how he threw all of his plans of keeping everything between the two of you as professional as possible out of the window.

Maybe it's the few glasses of whiskey finally settling into his system or maybe it's his natural protector instinct, but for some stupid reason, he can't help the way he feels about you.

Knowing you've never had a man give what you've obviously been longing for has given him these false hopes that maybe he's the one to do just that.

He's been thinking about your reaction to his little comments about your phone conversation for the past eight hours and the fact he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you kneeling between his legs, looking up and quietly asking for nothing but a few sweet words of praise and affirmation definitely didn't help with the chaos in his head.

Jay's never had these issues with an employee before. For fuck's sake, he's never had these kind of thoughts about any women before and he absolutely despises it.

You're twentyone years old, way, way younger than the women he usual goes for. On top of it all you work for him, a fact which is usually more than enough for him to ban you from his mind, but here he is.

And as his eyes finally find your pretty figure, Jongseong can't comprehend the amount of annoyance and jealousy flooding his body as he watches the way you chuckle and giggle about whatever the fuck that guard's just said to you.

With his jaw tightly clenched and his hands balled into fists, the CEO tries his very best to calm himself down because there's absolutely no reason for him to react this way.

"I'm glad you're doing so well, pretty one", the guard says softly and slowly lifts his hand to graze your cheeks, sending another hot jolt of jealousy right into the pit of Jongseong's stomach, only for the way you're quickly moving away from his touch to suffocate the flames in one go.

"We're not together anymore, Chanie", you say and push a strand of hair behind your ear, "let's keep the distance that comes with, yeah?"

That's my girl.

The first thought to cross his mind is to claim you, when he hasn't even said a single word to you the past two hours.

At this point Jong feels like laughing at himself for his pathetic behavior.

"Oh, come on, Babe", the tall guard suddenly says and leaves you no room to escape as he cages you in with his hand against the wall, right next to your head, "we're still a dream team, why can't you see it?"

Jongseong carefully and attentively watches your reactions and besides the obvious discomfort, sudden anger grazes your face, a sight he hasn't seen before and can't help but feel intrigued by.

"I don't think one party of a 'dream team' could claim that title after cheating on the other", you spit back at him, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

So, turns out your previous boyfriend wasn't only a headache in bed but also a god damn cheater.

For a moment, Jongseong struggles to maintain his composure, the thought of all the pain and heartbreak you went through because that stupid fucker couldn't keep it in his pants simply makes his blood boil.

Despite your reaction, Changuk doesn't seem to be very fazed by it and with an awkward chuckle he just grabs your chin and pulls you closer to his body; his sudden use of strength surprising you to the point where you can barely push your hands against his chest to move away from his touch.

"I've always liked that mouth of yours", he casually replies and nudges his nose against yours and for a moment Jongseong's vision actually turns completely black, the fact that man dared to not only verbally disrespect you but also seems to give absolutely no fucks about your lack of consent leaves him absolutely flabbergasted.

"Back the fuck off, Changuk", you say and struggle to push your ex boyfriend away, forcefully turning your head to the side to escape his attempt of a kiss and as soon as he somehow finds his way back to reality, Jongseong's body acts on his anger before his brain can even give it a single thought.

With just a few steps, your boss appears right behind your ex boyfriend, his brows furrowed and nothing but deep anger lingering in the usually so empty brown of his eyes.

A little yelp escapes you in response to Park Jongseong harshly grabbing the back of Changuk's collar and forcefully pulling him away from you. You don't even get enough time to realise what's happening when Jongseong turns his back on you and gives his full attention to the security guard on the floor.

"M-Mr. Park?"

Because of your boss's height you can't really see your ex boyfriend's expression but just from the shaking of his voice you can tell how genuinely scared he is. As he should be.

It's been about time he finally learns what it means to back off when he's told to.

"If I see you bother her again I'm going to turn you into a plastic surgeon's biggest nightmare, got it? Take your things and get the fuck out of here. Don't bother talking to Mr. Lee about this, I'll do that for you in great detail. Now fuck off and pray to whoever you believe in that we don't run into each other anymore because I won't hold back the next time. Pathetic piece of shit."

You don't know, if it's the meaning behind his words, this particular choice of or just the fact that they have given you a sense of protection in a way you've never experienced it before but for some reason you feel your heartbeat slowing down and a wave of calmness overcoming your anxious system.

Jongseong doesn't say anything else, just waits for Changuk to get up and walk away before he finally turns around to face you and the softness and worry grazing his pretty features definitely surprises you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" His voice is gentle, his eyes nervously roam your face to look for any kind of discomfort or pain and you hate how much you love the way he looks at you. It's like he'd do anything to keep you safe and protected, comfortable and at ease; something you've never felt with anyone before. And it really had to be with your boss, of all people.

"Yes", you whisper and finally meet his strong gaze, losing yourself in the sweet brown of his iris quicker than you woukd have ever expected, "I mean – Yes, Sir. Thank you so much for stepping in."

"Of course", Jongseong replies quickly, the urge to take your pretty face into his hands and just pull you into his chest taking every bit of oxygen out of his lungs.

"I'm sorry for causing you so much stress and discomfort tonight. It won't ever happen again, I promise. The girls and I are gonna leave now so you can also enjoy the night with your friends and girlfriend."

As the words leave your mouth, you feel a wave of shame and embarrassment hit you yet again; the thought of being the reason why your boss couldn't even enjoy his best friend's birthday like a troubled kid definitely makes you want to disappear forever, yet there's no point in overthinking it.

"Shiah isn't my girlfriend", is the first ghing he clarifies and for a moment you're simply confused as to why he felt the need to do that, "and you didn't cause me any discomfort or stress. I enjoyed tonight and your company really changed things up a bit. Don't be so mean to yourself, Y/N."

"Oh." You physically can't stop the sound from escaping your lips and with big eyes you look up at your boss, only then realising just how close he is.

You can't help but wonder how it might feel to be held by him. The question if his embrace feels even safer and more protective than his presence lingering in the back of your busy mind.

"Thank you, Sir", you whisper and finally get yourself to look away. Your heart not strong enough to lose itself in any more false hopes as it is your boss you're currently looking at.

"Good", Jongseong has to physically bite down ln his tongue to stop himself from crossing a line he's been so adamant about drawing between the two of you by adding a single word, and as he watches the slight shinmer of anticipation dying down in your eyes, he knows he did the right thing. No matter how much it hurts his heart.

The young CEO simply can't do anything which might give you the wrong message. He won't sleep with you and despite the disgusting need to give you verbal affirmation and make you feel good about yourself, it's never going to go past that.

And after so many years and meeting different kinds of women, Jongseong knows why you're looking at him like that. You want what he can absolutely give you, yet for the first time in his life he can't bear the thought of the possible outcomes.

"I'm gonna call my chauffeur so he can drop you off at home and please text me once you've arrived. I wanna make sure you're all safe."

Those are his last words before he finally forces himself to turn his back on you again, not realising that his lack of self control regarding you is going to be a bigger problem than he could have ever imagined.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and here we are! different than the other two smaus this one started off pretty esrly with the written chap but i felt like it was needed to understand their thought process for the following chapters! i hope you guys enjoyed it and thank you so much for all the love and support, i love you so much 🥺 feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!!🧸🤍)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @xrr-s4sha @kwiwin @heelcvr @deobitifull @kpoprhia @doodlelibrary @abrazosolorcereza @certifiedmoa @sleeping-demons @heerinnie @ohmy-moonlightx @starlightmkl @heeswif3y @hoonieluv @fakeuwus @jjaeyuns @cheybabey @ineedsomezzz @super-amberlynn @kshoshi @tinie03 @soiimo @mimikittysblog @primroselover @heebrry @jebetwo @donghyckl @07myonlylove @enhamysunshines @quemirasboboandapaya @lostwonderwall @seuomo @enhaz1 @teawithbucky @beomgyusonlywife @dammit-jjk @lhsvibez @azurez @boutyouwonu @finchyy @ocyeanicc @jaylaxies @glitterssim @in-somnias-world @zerasari @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @capri-cuntz @fluerz @3amstarlight

[ymiwritesstuff]

Not really smutty (though it could lead into it) but how about tav helping halsin brush and braid his hair? This man deserves to be pampered and have someone care for him as much as he does for everyone else

WOWOWOWOWOW I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! This was so much fun to write thank you Anon!! I hope this turned out the way you were hoping!! Halsin deserves all the pampering!!! Enjoy!

A Moment Together

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin x Tav!Reader

Summary: After a long day of hard work and battle, you and Halsin decide to spend the remaining hours of the day in each other's company during which you are eager to make sure he feels as relaxed as possible.

Notes: Fluff (so much that it's disgusting lol), hair brushing, no spoilers, just good vibes :)

“Alright, that should be enough.”

The heavy pieces of firewood you had spent almost the entirety of the day gathering fell on the ground with a loud thud, the positive exclamations of gratitude from the others soon following. It was always a rather tedious task, but it proved to be one of the most rewarding. No one could sleep or relax after a hard day in the coldness of the night unless you happened to have an infernal engine for a heart. Karlach was lucky in that aspect, you thought.

The sun still peaked through the thick trees of the forest, though it would not take long until it would retreat behind the horizon. Looking around the camp, everyone seemed just about ready to shed the weight and responsibilities of working to find a solution to your parasite issue and enjoy some much needed rest. The tents were put up, the bedrolls were set around the campfire and the heavy pieces of gear and armor were abandoned in favor of something more comfortable.

You ought to do the same soon.

However, your mind soon wandered when a certain druid entered your vision. A smile crept up to your lips. You were reminded of something you had said earlier in the day, a promise of a moment for just the two of you. Halsin was quick to relax his gaze as he looked over the camp and noticed how everyone seemed content. Should there have been an issue, he would have most likely been the first one to volunteer and offer his help, being the kindhearted druid he was. The thought only made you smile more.

As soon as his eyes found you, you were quick to point to the edge of the camp with a tilt of your head, your feet slowly carrying towards the direction. You were inviting him for a stroll, as you had discussed previously, and he certainly hadn’t forgotten, as he quickly followed you.

The camp slowly disappeared behind you and once it did, Halsin was quick to intertwine his large hand with yours, a gesture he often did when you shared a moment together. You were sure the rest of the camp was privy to the way you two shared glances, some of them were rather… perceptive, and secrecy wasn’t something either of you desired. Perhaps it merely felt more natural when there weren’t others present. Halsin certainly seemed more at ease like this.

“You seemed quite busy today,” you commented, remembering how you hadn’t seen him much all day. It was not terribly unusual, but to say you did not miss him would be a lie. He hummed.

“There was a shortage of potions and other healing items. So I made a longer journey to find a merchant.” You nodded as you listened, but also frowned your brows.

“We do have you and Shadowheart with us…” If you were honest, you were not sure why spend the effort to gather potions when your group consisted of more than one healer. Your thoughtful muttering reached his pointed ears and he was quick to let out a hearty chuckle.

“That may be so. But it does not hurt to be resourceful. We do journey separately at times, after all.”

“That’s true.”

You could not help but smile. Halsin had always been looking over everyone, making sure to offer his help whenever it may have been needed. His kindness was admirable, and in truth, it was needed during times like these.

You continued to walk by his side, his larger stature perfectly framed by the setting sun that continued to seep through the branches and leaves. To not look at him would have been a crime, so you allowed your eyes to wander, taking in his utter beauty as you walked. He had a small but fulfilled smile upon his lips, and his eyes idly looked around ever so slightly, marveling at the grace of nature.

The journey led you two to a gentle stream that flowed through the forest. The water was crystal clear and the warm colors of the sun were reflected on the calmly moving surface beautifully. You were sure this same stream spread into the vast lake just next to your camp. 

Giving glances at each other, the silent decision was made to rest here and unwind after yet another long day, maybe even fall asleep. It wouldn’t have been the first time, and Halsin always made sure to keep you warmer in ways a mere campfire never could.

You carefully sat down on the ground, Halsin keeping your hand in his until you were fully seated. He then laid down, placing his weary head on your lap, looking up at you with a smile that made your heart swell. The habit of his was incredibly endearing, there was just something about this druid, built like the most durable stone wall, gently lying beneath you at the mercy of your touch.

Smiling at him, your hands immediately went to his hair, pulling it back until all of it pooled in your lap. Tilting your head, you looked at his locks, noticing how they had some woodchips and tangles in them. Not a rare sight, quite natural, even. But you frowned, though playfully.

“Shall I brush it?” You asked, making sure to not pull on the knots with your fingers. A small chuckle left his lips.

“I have my doubts you’ll let me get up if I do not accept.” The sarcasm in his tone was obvious, it made you scoff jokingly.

“Of course not. What would the others think?” You sighed and groaned dramatically. “Imagine how horrified Astarion would be!”

Halsin laughed, that pleasant sound ringing in your ears long after he stopped. His laugh was contagious, so you briefly joined him, while reaching for your pocket and pulling out a comb. You looked down at him again.

“Well, what say you?” Your smirk was once again jesting, but his smile was genuine.

“Go right ahead, my heart.”

Smiling, you carefully began running the comb through his hair, noting how he let out a deep breath at the sensation. Brushing his hair had become somewhat of a regular activity, you did it for him every time you could. He enjoyed it. To be surrounded by nature and touched by you so attentively, he could not even begin to think about any better way to forget about the harshness of reality that affected everyone.

You had always thought that Halsin was far too considerate for his own good. He often put himself before others, especially with you. Though it was an incredibly valuable trait, it often left you wondering if anyone ever did anything for him. That’s why you helped him whenever you could, that’s why you held his hands and asked if he needed anything, that’s why you brushed his hair.

Halsin’s breathing was calm and paired with the gentle trickle of the stream as the sun slowly set, you felt like all the horrid things that happened around you did not exist, even if it was for a brief moment. 

His hair was mostly rid of its previous debris and the comb flowed through it effortlessly. You were more or less done but felt like something was missing. Placing the comb down, you ran your fingers through his locks, marveling at the length. His long hair was always open, flowing freely in the wind. As nature intended, you thought.

You took a brief look at him. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but you doubted this was the case. Regardless, he looked peaceful and you felt a wave of satisfaction hit you. It would be a lie to claim that it didn’t feel rewarding to see this druid, so concerned for everyone else and working tirelessly to ensure safety among everyone, at ease and utterly relaxed.

Gathering his hair into your hands, you sectioned it and began interweaving them. Halsin surely felt it, as his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. You had never done this before.

“Trust the process,” you said to which he gave a humorous hum. His hand rested on his abdomen and he took a deep breath, simply enjoying the way your fingers touched and gently tugged his brown hair.

As you reached the end of the braid, you looked for something to tie it with. You spotted a flower, white petals practically glowing in the moonlight. It had already been plucked from the ground, so you did not feel bad for reusing it for the greater good. You took a small piece from the base of the stem and used it to tie the end of the braid, to ensure that it would stay put.

You looked at your work and Halsin seemed to sense that you were done, as he slowly sat up, and turned to you. And as you looked at him, you could not stop the heat that spread across your cheek.

The loose braid rested upon his broad shoulder and his large frame was illuminated by the moon, giving him an almost otherworldly aura. His fingers brushed along the braid, there was some surprise in his expression, but it quickly melted away when he noticed how you looked at him.

“I suppose I can compete with Astarion now?” Halsin chuckled as he spoke to which you couldn’t contain a smile.

“Well, almost.” Your hand reached for the flower you had used to tie his hair with and you scooted closer to him, lifting yourself so your eyes were on the same level. Even when sitting down, he towered over you. Carefully, you brushed some of his hair that framed his face behind his ear, the flower following soon after. It came to rest against his ear, giving him a look that seemed to blow you away.

You retreated from him, grinning on the outside, but screaming and squealing inside at how incredibly beautiful he looked.

“Now I’d say you have a chance.”

Halsin pulled you to him as you both laughed, holding you close. He was warm, he always was. You pulled away to look at him, the affectionate sparkle in his hazel eyes warming your heart.

“Thank you, my heart. You… Do so much for me.”

If only he realized. This was nothing compared to what he did not only for you but for everyone. You smiled for what felt like the thousandth time and kissed him, keeping your hands on the sides of his face. The night had fallen, and all possible thoughts of returning to the others faded away. Tonight, you would sleep under the stars, dozing off to the soothing sounds of the stream with him next to you before repeating the grueling routine of the day all over again.

But it felt worth it. For moments like these, you’d do anything.

~

Feel free to support me on ko-fi!❤️

[somelokivariant]

Based off of this prompt

Merlin was back at work serving the King after nearly dying saving the kingdom. Just another average Tuesday.

Last night was fairly rough, Merlin arriving home after midnight with a rather pretty dagger sticking out of his abdomen. Gaius stitched him up and made him drink this very disgusting solution (God what was in there???). And after two little hours of sleep he was back serving this dingbat breakfast. Obviously he couldn't ask for a day off. What was he supposed to say, "Oh sorry Arthur, I found myself face to face with a fae cursing Camelot! I fought her with my magic but she threw a knife at me." Honestly he probably could say all that and Arthur would think Merlin spent too much at the tavern again. Merlin internally rolled his eyes. For now he was carrying on with work and Arthur's stupid comments like every other day.

He hobbled over to set the table for the king, his stomach burning. Merlin paid attention to not show it on his face.

"Why are you walking like that?"

"Like what?" He didn't pay attention to not show it in the rest of him.

"Like one of your legs is longer than the other."

"Oh, uh... I ran my hip into the table earlier"

Arthur just rolled his eyes and muttered to himself. Luckily Merlin was just clumsy enough for that to be entirely likely.

Merlin polished armour sitting down, and washed the laundry with magic. Unfortunately he couldn't find a way around Arthur's training. He could barely keep his coordination on a regular day, how on earth was he supposed to do this with stitches up his side. Stupid king training with his stupid muscles and sword. Merlin tried his best dueling Arthur while keeping his composure. He didn't want Arthur asking anymore questions, because honestly he was to beat to deflect them. Arthur swiped and Merlin dodged, a sharp burn going up his side. He felt like toppling over from the shock. Apparently that sludge solution from Gaius was not as effective as it was supposed to be.

Merlin almost audibly sighed relief when Arthur called for a break.

This was Arthur's break though, not Merlin's. "Go fetch cold water for his highness", he grunted under his breath as he made his way towards the castle. His stomach was still aching from that one-off swerve, he lifted his hand to hold some pressure in attempt to soothe the pain. Instead he just felt warm and wet. He paused to look down at the spot of blood that was slowly growing on his shirt. Merlin looked back at his hand dripping red, and staggered, finding the wall with his orher hand to support him. His vision started growing black spots and his ears rang. Merlin was only partly aware of the impact of his knees hitting the floor, and the pain in his side.

○○○○○

How long does it take to get some water? This dollop head probably got lost in his own damn castle.

Arthur rose from the field and started walking towards the kitchens. I have to do everything my self.

When he reached the castle he noticed a Merlin shaped lump half way down the hall.

"Fell asleep on a five minute walk?" He called out. The Merlin lump didn't move. As Arthur got closer he noticed the red on the floor surrounding Merlin. At this point he began to run.

Merlin was crumpled in a pool of blood. There was so much it took a minute for Arthur to find where it was coming from. He eventually recognized a few stitches in Merlins abdomen. Stitches? It wasn't a fresh wound.

Careful about the stress he was putting on Merlins body, he picked him up and ran as well as he could with a body in his arms - Merlin was actually quite heavy - towards Gaius's chambers.

He swung the door open with his foot, not bothering to knock.

Gaius turned around startled, but paused mid-exclamation when he saw Merlin limp in Arthur's arms.

"Set him down on this table here", he said while clearing scrolls and miscellaneous bowls.

Gaius lifted Merlins shirt and started dabbing around the cut with a rag.

"Get more rags from over there and start wiping down Merlin's stomach." Gaius got alcohol and thread. "His stitches came out. I told that boy he needed time to heal. Hold this. Pour here."

Arthur did exactly as he was told.

Arthur didn't know why his heart was racing so much. When this dollop head wakes up I'm going to kill him myself. Arthur sat back beat and stared at Meflin on the table.

Gaius finished cleaning Merlins blood and fixing his stitches.

"Arthur... Arthur?" Arthur looked up and Gaius came into focus. "I suggest you also go change out of your bloody clothes."

Arthur didn't want to leave Merlins side. He continued to sit exactly where he was.

Finally Merlins eyes opened, and he groaned as he propped himself up onto his elbows.

"Gods Arthur you look awf-"

Arthur leaped up and grabbed Merlins head, cutting him off with a very strong kiss. Merlin looked surprised. He gently put his arm around Arthur as Arthur buried his face in Merlins neckerchief.

After a moment Arthur pulled away and pointed a stern finger at Merlin. "NEVER do that again", he said in his commanding king voice. Merlin just stared. His king voice never worked on Merlin. "I mean, who will wash my drawers?"

Merlin aggressively rolled his eyes but Arthur recognized the hints of a smile.

@sonamysunivers @goddessofenergy @1asbrightasthestars3 @marvelqueenhere @faiirysecret @chloethebananana @m-nerd44

A/N: this is an unserious one shot rushed fic, OP also write an amazing one <3

Tag list

If ur mentioned its bc u asked to get tagged in op's post 👍

[peelingpaint-heavyheart]

i need an excuse to talk about kissing alhaitham on new year. it just makes me kick my feet and smile like an idiot

---

contrary to normal couples, you and alhaitham didn't go to a party or celebration on new year's eve. instead, you two stayed inside, cuddling on the couch as alhaitham read from his book and you watched a movie.

this was your ritual to stay awake every year, occupying your minds so that you could both make it to midnight to share that special new years kiss. although some years were unsuccessful (where you both fell asleep before midnight), you were determined to stay awake this year.

however, despite your determination and your boyfriends reluctant compliance to said determination, you can already feel your eyes dropping shut. it's only when the subtle rise and fall of his chest is disturbed, his weight shifting as he changes his position on the couch, do you snap back awake

"i'm awake!"

you hear alhaitham chuckle softly at your exclamation as the page turns.

"of course, darling, wide awake."

you pout at his teasing but you readjust your position against his body so your both comfortable again. you check your watch for the time, hoping midnight had drawn closer since you spaced out

"there's only five more minutes! we'll definitely make it this year."

you say smugly, looking up at alhaitham with a grin. he looks away from his book, closing it but holding his finger between the pages to keep his place.

"how about we just kiss now and go to bed? you're already nodding off"

"i'm not falling asleep!"

you insist stubbornly, sitting up from where you lay against alhaithams frame. you stare into his eyes, challenging his words with a defiant glint in your gaze. you have to stay awake now, if only to prove him wrong and be rewarded with the traditional kiss.

you can see his lips widen into a knowing smirk, like he's holding something against you that you're unaware of. and despite yourself, you can't help but find that expression of his quite attractive.

"whatever you say"

he opens his book again and resumes where he left off, a trace of arrogance lingering on his face. you roll your eyes and retake your spot next to alhaitham, focussing on the movie that was temporarily forgotten.

five silent minutes pass between you, interrupted by your watch beeping as the digits flash 12:00 AM. alhaitham finished a sentence before placing the book down completely, turning to you expectantly.

you were still awake, at this point fuelled solely by your will to prove alhaitham wrong. alhaitham watched you, waiting for you to initiate the kiss you had anticipated all night, yet all you did was turn off the beeping on your watch and stare at him.

"happy new year y/n"

alhaitham says quietly, eyes momentarily flickering to your lips before returning to meet your gaze.

"happy new year haitham"

there's a brief silence as alhaitham's distracted glances become more obvious, yet he doesn't make the first move. you notice how his brows furrow slightly and his lips quirk downwards, how his eyes narrow as he tries to figure out why you haven't kissed him.

"is this about earlier?"

he asks, his pout becoming more prominent. gods, he looked just adorable, you could pinch his cheeks and tease him for acting so cute, but you decide to save that for another time.

"what makes you think that?"

you reply, a poorly hidden smile blooming on your face.

"don't make me wait all night for a kiss just to act petty, darling"

"i'll act however i want, dearest. just admit that i was able to stay up all night."

the smile wins it's way onto your face, unable to be suppressed, and you feel all the more triumphant as alhaitham sighs in defeat, shaking his head at your antics.

"you were close to nodding off though-"

"that's not the same thing!"

you interject, laughing at how he tries to avoid compromising his earlier words.

"fine," he smiles affectionately, the corners of his eyes crinkling, "you were very awake the entire night."

"that's better," you say, your finger tilting his chin to you, his mouth toward yours.

"you're insufferable" he whispers

"yeah but you love it"

and you start the new year with a proper kiss, even if you were a few minutes late

---

happy new year :))

[defectivevillain]

took an axe and amended things

pairing: kratos x reader

reader’s pronouns: he/him 

[reader with they/them pronouns here!]

warnings: canon typical violence, blood and injury 

You’re venturing out in the forest when you come across a rather unusual sight: a young boy standing across from several Draugr. You initially think that your eyes are deceiving you. Even so, you move closer and realize that the kid seems to be in trouble. His only weapon is a bow and arrow; unfortunately, there are too many Draugr for the distance weapon to be of much use. You contemplate walking away for a long moment. Ultimately, you decide that you can’t leave him.

You take a deep breath and pull out your sword, lunging at the creatures closest to you. You manage to cut through a few of them. You’re preoccupied for a few moments, which causes you to lose focus and forget the boy. This mistake nearly costs you, as the kid lets out a chilling shriek. You immediately race over to him, shoving him aside. The Draugr that had been descending upon him lets out a strangled noise and plunges a clawed hand into your abdomen before you can react. A sharp burst of pain shoots through you and you quickly finish off the creature, before turning back to look at the boy. He looks mostly fine, save for a few scratches and scrapes. The kid stares at you with wide eyes, looking around for more Draugr before walking up to you.

“Thanks,” the boy says breathlessly, sending you a warm smile. The happiness quickly fades from his face when he sees the wound tearing through your abdomen. You try to muster up a calm expression, but it doesn’t seem to work very well. “Oh no…” The kid grimaces for a moment.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, stumbling forward as you try to take a step. Quick as lightning, the boy is standing at your side and steadying you. You can’t help but lean on him, despite knowing he’s a child who probably won’t be able to withstand your weight. Against all odds, though, the boy seems strong enough to support you. Before you can apologize and try to walk away, he slings your arm around his shoulder. The hand you’re pressing to your abdomen is slowly turning a dark crimson. The boy begins to walk forward and you have no choice but to clumsily follow.

“Our house is around here,” he remarks, leading you onwards. Your vision is blurring by the second, but you can make out a structure that looks like a house in the distance. Unfortunately, that distance seems rather large in your current condition. “Just hold on.”

The walk is long and painful. The cold air makes your chest burn and the wound on your abdomen isn’t getting better. You’re losing strength and gradually becoming dead weight for the kid to support. You idly wonder—through the painful haze you’re stuck in—what he’s doing out here by himself. Then again, he said our house, didn’t he? The boy evidently lives with someone else. Even so, should he have been all alone in the forest in the first place? You don’t think so.

Your thought process surrounding the boy only lasts a few moments, before it takes a backseat to the immense pain ripping through your body. Shadows creep across the corners of your vision. You stop in your tracks, grinding your heels into the snow to stop the boy from leading you onwards. Vertigo is hitting you out of nowhere, to the point where the ground seems to be spinning under your feet. You weakly grasp at the boy’s shoulder, but you can’t keep yourself standing. Before long, you’re crumpling to the ground. The kid lets out an exclamation and the world fades to a dizzying black.

You seem to waver between unconsciousness and wakefulness. There’s a loud thunk that breaks you out of your slumber, but you keep your eyes closed in the hopes that you’ll find rest again. Amidst the darkness, you can catch traces of conversation between the boy from earlier and another person.

“Boy, what did I tell you about strangers?” The voice you hear is deep and timbered; it sends a shiver down your spine.

“I know, Father, but-”

“A childish mistake. The moment you let your guard down to someone, they will swiftly destroy you.”

You eventually abandon the notion of rest and open your eyes to find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wooden beams stretch across the ceiling; the torches hanging from them are the only source of light. For several seconds, you remain still and stare up at the ceiling. Your balance feels lopsided, despite the fact that you’re reclined on the floor. Before you can even begin to push yourself up, there’s a quick glint of metal as an axe presses up against your throat. You look up to find a huge man towering over you. He wears a stiff shoulder guard, leather forearm wraps, and a belt across his waist. His eyes are steely and there’s a malicious aura radiating off of him.

“Get out of my home,” the man orders, pressing the axe further against your neck. You can’t stop the hiss that crawls from your throat when the metal digs into your skin. “Now.” There’s nothing but hatred in the man’s brown eyes. You swallow hard and try to push yourself up to a sitting position, while avoiding the axe at your throat. The slight movement hurts far more than you expect and you let out a strangled breath.

“No!” The boy from earlier exclaims. You glance to your side, only to find him sitting next to you. He places a hand on your shoulder and you realize that his grip is surprisingly strong. Now that the boy is closer, you’re able to see that he has clear blue eyes. He’s even smaller up close. Just how old is this boy? You’re not sure you want to know.  “He needs rest.” You raise an eyebrow at the unexpected defense.

The man holding the axe glares at the boy, who stares right back. Admittedly, you’re impressed with the kid’s fearlessness—especially in the face of this brute in front of you, who’s holding a rather dangerous-looking axe. “Atreus.”

“Father, he saved me,” the boy—Atreus—interjects. At this, the man stills. His gaze falls to his son for a fraction of a moment, before he returns to glaring at you menacingly. “I was surrounded.” He continues. Your head is swimming and takes an immense amount of effort to focus on what he’s saying. “I tried to fight, but I was outnumbered… A Draugr got close and was about to strike me. This one was a lot faster than Draugr usually are, and I reacted too late… He pushed me out of the way and took the blow.”

The massive man is still staring at you with a scrutinizing gaze, evidently trying to find the fault in his son’s story. You grimace, half in pain and half in intense discomfort. For a few moments, there is nothing but silence. Then, the axe at your throat falls to the man’s side. You push yourself up to a sitting position and take a deep breath. Unfortunately, the conversation doesn’t seem to be over, as the man’s axe is still in hand.

“Why did you save him?” The axe isn’t pressed up directly against your skin any longer, but it still hovers menacingly above your neck.

“He’s just a boy,” you murmur, struggling to make sense of your thoughts. “I don’t know; I didn’t really have time to think about it. It just… happened.” The man’s eye contact is intense, so much so that you have to avert your gaze after a few seconds. Whatever this man is looking for, he seems to find it in your expression.

“He can stay until he heals,” the man says, hardly sparing you a glance before turning to his son, “You will supervise him.” Atreus nods and immediately turns back to you. His father glares at you one more time, before turning his back and walking to one of the other rooms. You stare after him in disbelief.

“Sorry about Father,” Atreus sighs, drawing your attention back to him. He seems to be making some sort of ointment to apply to your wound. “He doesn’t like people very much.” You shake your head, trying to reassure the boy that it isn’t his fault and that you don’t mind. You are a stranger in their home, after all. “This is going to hurt.” Atreus presses the ointment to your abdomen and you inhale sharply. It burns for a few seconds, before cooling pleasantly.

Feeling a sudden heat, you look up to find Atreus’s father lurking a short distance away. He looms next to a wall, hiding him from his son’s view. The man crosses his arms over his chest and stares at you with a strange expression—which morphs into a murderous look once he realizes that you’re staring back.

“What’s wrong?” The boy asks from his place at your side. He’s looking at you expectantly and you tear your gaze away from his father, who slinks off into another area of the house and out of sight. You bite your lip. Despite Atreus’s curiosity, you can’t bring yourself to betray his father’s actions.

“Nothing.” You say with a shake of your head. Atreus finishes preparing the bandages and begins to wrap them around your abdomen. The boy’s bandaging seems to be a bit clumsy, but you can’t bear to feel anything but grateful for his help—especially when he stood up to his father for you. “Thanks for healing me.” You decide to voice your gratitude.

“It’s my fault you got hurt in the first place.” Atreus murmurs, just quietly enough that it takes you a  moment to realize you didn’t imagine the remark. You try to argue, but the boy has finished your bandages and he’s already walking away before you can entirely comprehend the statement. As much as you want to go after him, you’re essentially bound to the floor—your injuries are too grave for you to even try moving.

You fall asleep for a bit, until you’re woken by the eerie feeling of someone watching you. You dazedly blink your eyes open, only to have a mini heart attack when you see Atreus’s father looming over you. Is he here to kill you, now that Atreus isn’t present? You don’t get much time to wonder, before the man is speaking.  

“That boy…” You can hardly let out a protest before his father gets down on one knee and tugs at your bandages. You let out a weak protest, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He instead pulls off the bandages with an almost mechanical precision.

“I don’t even know your name, yet,” you joke weakly, trying to distract yourself from his proximity and the pain flaring up in your abdomen. As expected, the joke doesn’t register with the man. He looks annoyed at the mere suggestion.

“You have no need for it.” You stare at him. Your disbelief and mild irritation must show on your face, because the man looks back down at the bandages and steadily refuses to meet your eyes. For someone so intimidating, this guy seems to be almost… timid. Perhaps he’s just unaccustomed to social interaction. That would make a lot of sense, actually. His house is in the middle of the woods, deep enough that he likely doesn’t encounter many people. “Kratos.”

You raise an eyebrow and tell him your name, although you suspect that he doesn’t care what your name is. Sure enough, the man doesn’t even acknowledge your remark. His rather large hands are fiddling with the roll of bandages, and you’re almost tempted to help him out. You reach out, only for him to meet your eyes once more.

“If it weren’t for the boy…” The man’s eyes darken. He looks down to wrap the bandages around you. He tightens them a bit too fiercely, causing you to suck in a startled breath. Kratos looks up when he’s finished and levels you with a menacing glare. “I’d kill you where you stand.”

You gulp. His hands brush your skin for the briefest of moments, sending a wave of heat down your spine. It’s hard to focus when Kratos is so close to you. Thankfully, once he’s finished with the bandages, he gets to his feet and stares at you.

“For whatever reason, the boy has developed a liking for you,” Kratos states flatly. There’s an unconvinced look on his face, as if he can’t comprehend why his son even mildly tolerates you. You feel a little offended at that—are you really so insufferable to be around? “I expect you out of here the moment you’re fully healed.”

“Alright, thanks,” you answer, having half-expected a remark along those lines. The two of you are then locked in a pseudo-staring contest—as if you’re sizing each other up—for a few seconds before Kratos turns his back and walks away.

As you rest, your conversation with Kratos dominates your thoughts. Unfortunately, you don’t have much else to think about—your healing isn’t going as fast as you’d like. Time seems to drag on, especially when all you do is sleep or eat small meals. You’re amazed you’ve been given any food at all; although, you then realize that Atreus is likely hunting for you.

“I’m not who Father thinks I am,” Atreus remarks one morning, as he’s changing your bandages. He noticed his father’s adjustments and since then, he’s been fairly high strung. You remain silent and let him continue. “I’m strong, I’m smart. I’m capable.”

“You are,” you agree, happy to see the pink flush on the boy’s cheeks at the acknowledgement. Unfortunately, Atreus’s bashfulness doesn’t last long, as his eyebrows furrow and his lips twist into a scowl.

“Then why doesn’t he see that?” Atreus exclaims. You put a finger to your lips to get him to lower his voice, but the boy doesn’t seem to notice the gesture. “I don’t understand! He always leaves, he never talks to me or teaches me. He doesn’t even want me!” The boy’s voice cracks and your heart breaks just a little more.

“Atreus…” You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming sympathy overtake you. You feel like you’re listening in on something you shouldn’t, despite Atreus’s voluntary disclosure of information. “I don’t know your father, but I know that you’re wrong. He does want you; he loves you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Atreus whispers. He sounds so unsure that you feel your eyes begin to burn. Is his father’s approval really so foreign to him? It doesn’t take you long to choose what to say next.

“Because I’m still here,” you answer. You hadn’t intended to tell Atreus about his father’s threats, but now, you think they’ll serve as evidence to your claims. “He’s keeping me here because you asked him to. If you hadn’t, I’d be dead right now.”

“That’s not true,” Atreus fires back.

“He told me as much,” you admit. Atreus’s lips part and he stares at you in disbelief. You take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again. “Anyway. Your father doesn’t seem like the type to use his words, but… his actions couldn’t be more transparent.” Atreus is silent at that. You frown, wishing there were some way to convince him. An idea passes through your mind and you decide to speak your thoughts. “I know I’m not your father, but-” you break off, “I am proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Atreus huffs, his ears turning red. You give in to the urge to ruffle his hair and he scowls dramatically, turning his attention to your bandages. You allow him to escape the conversation and the two of you soon change topics and talk about innocuous things. Eventually, Atreus leaves to hunt and you’re alone again.

You find yourself alone in the house rather frequently. You can’t bring yourself to be irritated with it—after all, you’re pretty much an uninvited house guest. Furthermore, it appears as if your wound is healing rather well… It should take only a few more days of rest before you’re ready to go home. A small part of you wonders if this cabin could be your home, if this father and son could be your family. You quickly disregard the concept.

Somehow, you manage to heal faster than you expect. Within a few days, you’re up and walking again. Almost the moment that you realize you can walk, you head towards the door. Kratos’s threats from earlier are living in your mind. I expect you out of here the moment you’re fully healed. You press your palm flat against the door and push, only for a voice to interrupt your thoughts.

“Where are you going?” You turn around, dread coiling in your chest as you find Kratos standing in the space you had previously occupied. He’s regarding you with wariness and skepticism. You frown at that, unable to dissuade your own confusion.

“Um… home?” If it weren’t for the boy, I’d kill you where you stand. You gulp. You had hoped to avoid an awkward confrontation—or even a fight— by slipping out of the house undetected. That was wishful thinking, apparently. For the next few moments, you’re frozen in the doorway as Kratos stares at you with a scrutinizing gaze. His arms are crossed over his chest and there’s nothing but frustration written in the lines of his tense shoulders.

“The boy likes you,” Kratos eventually says, breaking through the strained silence. Tension settles in the air. You’re admittedly not fully recovered, and your balance is a bit testy. You place a hand on the wall in a casual gesture, pretending that you don’t need the stability. Kratos seems to recognize what you’re doing regardless, as he reaches out. You resist the urge to flinch. His hand rests on your shoulder and there’s a strange look on his face. “Stay.”

You stay—not that your decision has anything to do with the relieved expression on Kratos’s face when you step away from the front door. That doesn’t run through your mind at all. You make your way past Kratos and sit down on the floor once more.

When Atreus returns home that day, he launches himself at you and hugs you before you can object. You smile and wrap your arms around him in return. The boy doesn’t seem keen to let you go any time soon. You look over Atreus’s shoulder, only to accidentally lock eyes with Kratos. His fists are clenched at his sides and he quickly turns away. Your chest burns as you return your attention to Atreus, pretending not to have noticed his father gazing at the boy with a remorseful expression.

When the two of you break apart, Atreus stares at you expectantly. You turn your head to the side in an attempt to avoid his gaze, but the movement draws a pained hiss from your lips. You grimace as pain flares up your back. You don’t think you’re quite subtle enough, because Atreus’s eyebrows furrow.

“Your back hurts,” the boy realizes aloud. Damn it, why is this boy so observant? You bite your lip and remain silent, not wanting to further incriminate yourself. Atreus seems to have his mind made up, however, as he looks at you. “Haven’t you been sleeping on the floor? That’s probably why. You should tell Father.”

“No thanks,” you say with a shake of your head. Your conversations with Kratos are awkward enough on their own. The last thing you want is to bring up your discomfort, especially when he and his son have been so kind as to let you reside here. “Besides, there isn’t another bed for me to sleep in or anything.”

Atreus stares at you with a rather complex gleam in his eyes. His mischievous expression throws you off, and you get the feeling that you should be nervous. “Father likes you, you know,” the boy remarks. You blink once, twice—convinced that you misheard him. Once you process the statement, you look at him in confusion.

“There’s something about you,” Atreus continues, “He doesn’t hate you as much as he hates everyone else.” You want to laugh, but the sentiment seems to strike true—Kratos clearly dislikes people. The portion of Atreus’s statement concerning his lessened hatred for you is definitely untrue, though. Instead of arguing, you keep quiet and let Atreus continue speaking. “Ever since Mother died, he hasn’t been quite the same. But he’s better, now that you’re around.”

“You think so?”

Atreus nods silently. You don’t know what to say; Atreus seems similarly lost for words. “It’s healing nicely,” he says, nodding at your wound. You look down at the warped scar tearing through your skin. That scar is probably going to be permanent, you realize with resignation. Atreus doesn’t elaborate on his previous remark and you spend the rest of the day thinking about it.

The next day, the strange interaction with Atreus falls to the back of your mind, as you begin to busy yourself with attempts at full recovery. You slowly begin to start walking around again, and before long, you’re able to walk around the house with relative ease. One day, you even walk outside to get some fresh air. You don’t realize how much you needed the sunshine, until you feel a smile breaking out on your face. The midmorning rendezvous gives you a bit more energy.

For a few days after your attempt at departure, you don’t see Kratos at all. You almost want to think that he’s avoiding you, but you recognize that notion to be rather self-centered. He’s probably just busy. You decide to remain patient. Your patience does eventually pay off, because Kratos ambles into the room you’re occupying and stops to stand next to you. You send him a small smile, which he doesn’t return. Silence dominates the air for a few more moments, before Kratos speaks.

“The boy says-”

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to call him by his name once in a while,” you interject. Kratos glares at you and you glare right back for a few moments, until you eventually get sick of the charade. The man raises an eyebrow, as if to ask: Are you done? You roll your eyes in response.

“The boy says your back has been hurting.” Kratos finishes, a note of something unreadable in his voice. You don’t dare to analyze the emotion beneath that remark.

“He’s too observant, sometimes,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You quickly feel the need to defend yourself. “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Kratos snaps. He looks askance and it almost feels as if he’s trying to pretend you aren’t in front of him. Despite the rather harsh statement, though, his eyebrows are furrowed and he seems more irritated than usual. “You’ll sleep in my room tonight.” A million thoughts run through your head all at once. What does that statement mean, exactly? Surely, he means you’ll sleep on the floor of his room. Perhaps there’s a plush carpet. Honestly, you’ll take anything over the hardwood flooring of the main cabin area.

“Okay.” You murmur, once you realize that Kratos is waiting for a response. His lips are pulled taut and he stares at you for a moment longer before walking away. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Thankfully, it’s only midmorning. You have the rest of the day to put the thought off.

Unfortunately, the day passes unusually fast. Before long, it’s beginning to get dark. Kratos doesn’t seem to be around, but his words from earlier still echo in your ears. For a moment, you contemplate sleeping on the floor in the main room again. You quickly dismiss the notion when you see Atreus pouting at you. Rolling your eyes, you allow him to tug you by the arm until you’re standing in Kratos’s room.

There’s only one bed. Thankfully, Atreus leaves and doesn’t insist on anything stupid—like sharing the bed with his father. You’re sure that you’d wake up to an axe pointed at your throat, and you’d rather not have a repeat of your first meeting. There is a fluffy carpet in the corner of the room and you shrug, before lowering yourself down to the ground and curling up on your side. It’s far from comfortable, but you’re so tired that you can’t find the energy to care. Before you can muse about your unconventional sleeping arrangements any longer, you’re drifting off into sleep.

Your sleep is rough for a little while. You hear bits and pieces of noise, but you’re never fully torn from slumber. Then, out of nowhere, you’re jostled and you slip into a weird void between slumber and wakefulness. You vaguely register an arm under your knees and another supporting your upper back. Suddenly, there’s plush material beneath you and you can’t stop the miniscule exhale that leaves your lips at the feeling. You swear you hear a huff of amusement, but you’re far too exhausted to ponder it.

You wake hours later feeling remarkably refreshed. It’s the first time since you resided here that you were actually able to rest. You push yourself up slowly, taking a moment to survey your surroundings. It appears that you’re in Kratos’s room. Wait. You’re not on the floor… You’re on his bed. You quickly throw the blanket off of you and try not to panic. He can’t kill you if he doesn’t notice—

“You were on the floor.” Fuck. You look up, only to find Kratos hovering in the doorway. He stares down at you expectantly.

“Well, yeah,” you frown, pushing yourself off the bed to stand across from him. “Where else was I supposed to go?” Kratos has a rather disbelieving expression on his face as he regards you. His lips part and he’s about to say something when there’s a loud rapping sound. The man whips around and stalks out into the main room. You follow at his heels, secretly grateful for the interruption. You weren’t quite looking forward to the awkward conversation surrounding how you ended up sleeping in his bed last night.

“What was that?” Atreus asks, emerging from one of the other rooms. You put a finger over your lips and then turn to Kratos, who is glaring at the front door hard enough to set it aflame with his gaze alone. The three of you are entirely silent as you wait to hear the sound again. About a minute passes and you’re about to relax when there’s another harsh noise; it sounds like someone is knocking on the door. Kratos turns around and stares at you determinedly.

“Watch the boy.” He demands.

“But-” You try to say, beginning to sense what is going on. Evidently, this visitor isn’t coming for a housewarming party.  Whoever it is, they must be an enemy—if the vicious expression on Kratos’s face is anything to go by.

“Go.” Kratos snarls. Your heart is racing but you decide to obey him. Atreus seems like he wants to fight, but you place a hand on his shoulder. He sighs and walks a few steps until he’s standing in front of a pile of cushions and blankets. Atreus pushes them to the side, which reveals a sort of trapdoor mechanism. The boy tugs at it before lowering himself down into it. You take one final glance at Kratos, before following Atreus into the makeshift cellar. The moment you’re with Atreus, Kratos closes the trapdoor and Atreus and you are left in pitch-black darkness.

“Will he be okay?” Atreus voices. Within a few seconds of that question, you both hear a rumbling sound and raised voices. You can’t quite see Atreus, but you can hear his leg bouncing restlessly.

“Of course,” you murmur quietly. You’re sure he’ll be fine and you try to bring that conviction into your voice to combat Atreus’s nerves. The boy stares at you for a moment, before practically throwing himself into your arms. You embrace him hesitantly at first. As the two of you continue to wait with bated breath, you bring your hand up to the back of the boy’s head and cradle him close. He’s far too young to be going through all of this, you think to yourself.

You hear a loud crash and hastily put your hands over Atreus’s ears. He whimpers and you close your eyes, trying not to flinch as you hear inexplicable noises from above. A part of you wants to peek out from the trapdoor and see what’s going on, but you promised Kratos that you’d protect Atreus. Knowing that, you hold him close to your chest and try to wait for the end of the crashing noises.

Ironically, after all of that ruckus, there is… nothing. You have no idea how much time passes after those sounds. Your ears are buzzing and you anxiously await any sort of noise. After an immeasurable amount of time, you hear footsteps from above. Atreus clenches your shirt in a tight grip and you pull him closer. The trapdoor creaks open ominously, and you instinctively turn your back to protect Atreus. A few seconds pass, and nothing happens. You warily turn your head, only to find Kratos looming over the trapdoor. You let out a sigh of relief and relax your hold on Atreus, who peeks out from your shoulder and looks up at him.

“Father!” Atreus exclaims, relief evident in his voice. He steps up on the chest nearby and Kratos hoists him up.

“Atreus,” Kratos responds, staring down at his son. The boy launches himself into Kratos’s arms, murmuring things that you pretend not to hear. You smile at the sight, despite feeling a bit out of place; you vaguely feel as if you’re not supposed to be witnessing this rather intimate and private moment. After a few moments, Atreus releases his hold on his father and you accidentally lock eyes with Kratos over the boy’s head. There’s blood splattered all over the man’s face but he appears to be fine.  Atreus moves away and Kratos extends his arm to you. You don’t hesitate to take his proffered hand, allowing him to loftily pull you up from the cellar. His grip remains, even as Atreus pulls the cushions and blankets over the cellar. In fact, Kratos’s hand rises from your hand to grasp your forearm.

“You alright?” You ask. Kratos answers with a huff that you’ve grown to associate with amusement. There’s something lingering on his shoulder and you move to brush it off. Kratos stiffens and freezes, a guarded expression rising on his face. Despite his evident wariness, he doesn’t push you away. You brush the debris off his shoulder and quickly explain. “Sorry. You had, um, some dirt.”

“You looked after the boy,” Kratos says, apropos of nothing. You blink at him for a second.

“Of course,” you respond. You glance over at Atreus, who appears to be doing something in one of the other rooms. He’s too far away to hear your conversation, but your voice comes out like a whisper anyway. “I care about him. And… you asked me to.”

There’s a vulnerability in Kratos’s expression—a sentiment you’ve never seen from him. His eyes are wide and shining with emotion. You’re almost convinced that you’re seeing things. Despite the uncharacteristically expressive look on his face, he doesn’t speak for a few minutes. “You were prepared to die for him.” Kratos’s eyes fall to the pile of cushions over the trapdoor, evidently referencing how he found the two of you. You had instinctually shielded Atreus.

“I mean, don’t give me too much credit; it’s what anyone would have done.” You ramble, feeling strangely off-kilter with Kratos standing so close to you. His eyes have yet to leave your face and his gaze demands your attention. You stare at him and he stares at you. Kratos reaches out and cradles your jaw. He swipes at your cheek with his thumb and you freeze in surprise.

“When you were about to leave,” Kratos begins, his hand falling from your face and down to the crook of your neck. His lips part as if to continue speaking, but no words come out.

“You don’t have to explain,” you say, noticing that his shoulders are tight and his posture has recovered some tension. Kratos has an utterly tortured expression on his face and you feel immensely guilty for provoking that feeling in him. “Seriously, it’s fine-” You try to say, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue.

“You knew how to handle the boy,” the man continues. “I was envious at first. I… never had that kind of relationship with my father, and it affected my own relationship with the boy. When you appeared, I thought you would take him from me.” It appears as if speaking so much is actively harming Kratos, as he winces and stiffens with every word. He looks profoundly uncomfortable and determined at the same time. You remain silent, despite the conflicting feelings roaring in your heart.

“You understand the boy, in a way I have never been able to. I couldn’t bear to hate you, not when you gave Atreus his joy back. He hadn’t smiled since his mother died.” That, you hadn’t known. Suddenly, your throat burns as you remember the smiles Atreus has given you. “I have failed Atreus again and again, yet I tried to rob him of the one person that truly understood him… because that person was not me. What kind of father am I, for envying what you have with him?”

“A normal one, I think,” you answer honestly. “Kratos,” you break off, reaching out to him. Kratos grabs your wrist before you can reach him, a resigned expression on his face. He’s beginning to bury his emotions again. The light is slowly draining from his eyes. It feels as if he’s slowly slipping away from you.  

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Kratos says quietly. Your eyes catch on the bloodstains on his face and you begin to realize what he’s alluding to. Everything begins to make an absurd amount of sense: the giant axe, the ease with which he handled the unknown intruder, the entirely unaffected expression on his face as he ordered Atreus and you to hide.

“I don’t,” you acquiesce. Kratos’s hand is still on your wrist, but you manage to move your arm and clasp his forearm in return. “But that doesn’t matter—none of that matters. What matters is that you’re trying.” You take a deep breath. “Atreus needs you… and I do, too.”

Your eyes lock again and you realize that Kratos’s eyes are rather glassy. Is he crying? No, you must be seeing things. There’s an apology on the tip of your tongue but before you can speak, Kratos is tugging you towards him. You go along with the sudden momentum and, in the blink of an eye, he’s kissing you.

The gesture feels far too short, as a voice grounds you back to reality. “Finally.” You freeze and regretfully break away from Kratos, only to find Atreus staring at the two of you from his position in the far doorway. You feel extremely mortified and you try to salvage the situation by removing your hands from Kratos’s shoulders, but you fear it’s already too late.

“Boy…” Kratos trails off, evidently lost for words. Despite the fact that you’ve been found out, the man still hasn’t removed his hands from your waist.

“What?” Atreus asks innocently, a rather mischievous smile on his face. You sigh fondly at him, before beckoning him closer. The boy runs over and throws an arm around you, before doing the same with his father. Kratos looks startled for a moment, before he brings Atreus closer with his free hand. You smile to yourself as you’re surrounded by Kratos and Atreus—your newfound family.

[effeminateboyninja]

WAGER

3.2k | Toge Inumaki x gn!reader

S Y N O P S I S : You and Toge have been dancing around what everyone else already knows to be true, when finally a bet between friends brings it all to the forefront.

C O N T E N T : friends to lovers, fluff, brief mention of alcohol

A / N : loosely inspired by a song from OKLAHOMA! of all things. anyway it’s my first fic in a long time i hope u enjoy ! mwah!!

You rush down the sidewalk past buildings that flew by in a blur, feet tapping against the stone in a rapid procession that matched that of your thoughts.

Rarely, if ever, was there notable gossip within your group of friends. Sorcerers all, the daily tribulations of your shared profession usually stole the attention that might be reserved for petty speculation enjoyed by more typical individuals of your age group. Rarer still, were you the subject of such gossip. That novelty, and the eager sense to immediately share the news is what propelled you now at such a frantic pace towards the courtyard where a familiar figure was waiting. Toge — the white shock of his platinum hair coming into view first as you round the corner to approach him where he sat. Dutifully obeying your instructions to meet you there, texted to him just a few minutes earlier.

His eyes light up as soon as you come into view, widening when it’s clear that your rapid advance doesn’t seem to be slowing. You reach the bench where he’s sitting and barely manage to skid to a stop, the momentum of your actions toppling you down beside him with an exasperated sigh.

“Kelp.” He chuckles, amused by your dramatic arrival.

You give him a quick obligatory, “Hey, Tog,” as your hand reaches out in a well-practiced motion for the zipper on his collar, pulling it down below his chin so you could see his mouth and the marks on either side of it.

“You wouldn’t believe what I just heard!” the exclamation comes just as soon as the afterthought of a greeting leaves your mouth.

He looks back inquisitively and you continue without missing a beat. “So I overheard Yuji and Nobara talking...”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles and he types something on his phone: “You were eavesdropping…”

“Okay fine, I was eavesdropping!” You relent, “But that’s not the point! The point is — they have a bet… About us!”

You pause dramatically, waiting for an appropriately scandalized response and when none comes you continue, only slightly deterred. “More specifically, the bet is about whether or not we’ll start dating. Us.” You huff, “Can you believe that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, his tone level and his expression unphased. “Salmon.”

“Right?! That’s what I said. Like why would-“ His response finally registers in your mind and you do a double-take. “Wait, what do you mean?!”

He pulls up the notes app on his phone again and his thumbs dance across the screen before turning it so you can read the message he’s typed.

“well I mean maybe if you didn’t flirt with me so much… 🤷‍♂️”

You scoff and raise your eyebrows skeptically. “Oh, I’m the one who flirts? Please. That’s all you.”

He furrows his brow slightly and tilts his head to the side.

“Oh don’t play dumb with me. You practically act like my boyfriend.”

“Bonito flakes.” He protests, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

The truth is Yuji and Nobara’s bet is not unfounded — not in the slightest. The two of you have been playing this game for far too long for your younger friends’ nearly nonexistent patience. But Toge loves it. He revels in the fact that your friendship with him teeters on the edge on something more and cherishes every little slip up that shows it.

“Whatever, liar.” You smile and shake your head. “We need to set some ground rules.”

He raises his eyebrows curiously.

“Ground rules, you know? A list of things you need to stop doing so people will stop thinking we’re a couple.”

He smirks, the cursed symbol on his cheek twitching upwards.

“I’m serious!” You reach and arm out to give him a playful shove, but he dodges it expertly. His smirk only grows, earning him an eye roll.

“First of all,” you start, ignoring his smug expression, “you’re way too good with my parents. You’ve got to stop impressing them so much or my mom will never stop calling you her future son-in-law.”

He scoffs, hastily typing up his rebuttal.

“are you actually complaining that your parents like me rn?? my bad, let me just make them hate me 💀”

You groan, “You know what I mean! You brought my mom flowers that one time, like c’mon.”

He smiles, remembering the occasion last year. It was your mother’s birthday and he knew that you’d be spending the day with her, which meant he wouldn’t be able to. He needed an excuse to at least see you for a few minutes — and so the white-haired sorcerer dropped by a flower shop and made his way down the familiar route to your house with a small arrangement of carnations and daisies. She’d loved them of course, and insisted he join the two of you for lunch. Mission accomplished.

He sighs dramatically, but relents “fine, no flowers for your mom… she’ll be devastated tho”

His add-on at the end makes you chuckle. “I’m sure she’ll survive.” You assure him.

“anything else?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” you respond to his newest note and sit up a bit straighter, putting on a playful air of haughtiness. “Don’t laugh so much at my jokes. I know I’m devastatingly funny, so that might be a challenge, but it gives people the wrong idea I think.”

His thumbs are tapping his phone screen before you can even finish your last sentence. “Who laughs at your jokes? 🤔”

The quip earns him another shove. One that lands this time because he’s too busy laughing at your shocked and offended expression to dodge it. Toge’s laugh is a soft, bubbling sound that in spite of your last statement, you could listen to a million times and it would never be enough.

He catches his breath and straightens up a bit then points to himself, an ever present ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “My turn” he mouths.

That’s only fair, you think. So you nod, encouraging him to elaborate. He crosses his arms into an “X” in front of his chest — no more — then he points to your eyes with his index and middle finger, then points to himself.

You stare at him puzzled for a moment. “I’m not allowed to look at you?” You ask incredulously.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes, mouthing. “Not like that.”

“Like what?” You laugh.

“Like this,” his lips move silently once more and he reaches out his hand, cupping your cheek to hold your gaze, his lavender eyes locked with yours, sparkling mischievously like he’s got a secret he’s about to share with only you. There’s a beat of silence. And you have to work to resist the urge to lean in and kiss him. He just looks so pretty. Had his lips always looked so soft? So perfectly paired for your own…?

“Alright fine,” you exhale, shaking yourself from your reverie and grasping for an excuse to turn away from his touch. When his hand falls away from your face and you can breathe normally again, you speak once more. “The notes then. You’ll have to stop collecting them.”

You’re referring to the scraps of paper the two of you use to communicate when his riceball ingredients aren’t enough and he’s too lazy to pull out his phone. The ones he refuses to throw out, opting instead to fold them into his pocket and place them neatly into a shoebox under his bed later for safekeeping. They might just be random bits of paper, small snippets of past conversations with no context, but he doesn’t need any. He can recognize if you were happy, excited, sad or angry when you wrote each one by just the subtle changes in your handwriting. Keeping those notes is important to him; each one of them a memory that he has of you, and has no intention of kicking the habit any time soon.

This is one rule he won’t entertain. He shakes his head defiantly and furrows his brows. “Bonito flakes.”

There’s a sense of relief at his refusal as you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. This habit of his was one that had always made you feel important to him in a way that separated you from all his other friends, and it reassured the tamed and quiet part of you that hoped this familiar game would someday come to an end in your favour to see he didn’t want to relinquish it.

“Alright, I suppose you can keep the notes,” you say, and he beams, relieved by the knowledge that you enjoy his more sentimental tendencies.

Relieved too, that you clearly didn’t understand his one and only ground rule, because there you are again looking at him with that magnetic gaze that makes his heart melt.

You’re so focused on him that you don’t notice the phone he’s holding up for you at first, and he has to wave it slightly to get your attention.

“is it really so bad though?”

“What do you mean?”

“is it so bad that people think we’d make a good couple?”

No.

Your inner voice answers before you even have time to process that he’s asking you this — Toge, who’s occasional flirting you entertained, sure, but who you had convinced yourself long ago was off limits. Only allowing yourself a little self-indulgence once in a blue moon, wondering about what it might be like to take the plunge and turn your friendship to something more. A subtle touch every now and then, lasting just a bit too long. A moment of absentminded closeness, eyes flitting to lips before embarrassment comes blundering back in, followed by a blush and flustered change of subject. Those things were more than enough for what you had long ago accepted as just a silly and wholly unserious crush on your closest friend. It wouldn’t be right to risk all the trust and comfort the two of you had built as friends for just a chance at knowing what it would be like to call him yours. But here he was asking — what would be so wrong if you did?

Or was he? The doubt creeps in to cloud the excitement just as quickly as you’d let yourself believe he might return your feelings, and you begin convincing yourself that it’s just too good to be true.

Toge can see the gears in your head turning, the adorable and familiar way your features twist in concentration when you’re thinking really hard about something. He imagines reaching out his thumb to brush away the lines that have formed between your eyebrows as you furrow them at him, trailing it down to trace your lips and bring it back to touch his own — an inadvertent kiss.

But he doesn’t. Now, he needs to know your answer.

Your response finally comes as a tentative murmur, purposefully vague and noncommittal in an effort to suss out whether he’s being genuine or just teasing. “I guess not…”

His face falls just slightly. “you guess?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know..” You huff, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “What do you think?”

“i don’t mind at all.”

Your eyes race over the words a few times, just to be sure, then flick up to his face searching for any break in his level expression to indicate he was kidding around. But there’s nothing. Not even an echo of the smirk he wore earlier. An answer eludes you and you can only purse your lips and stare at him, desperately trying to figure out how you’re supposed to respond.

That’s when the young sorcerer rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, his patience finally being worn thin. The game had been fun he thinks, but your obliviousness was getting downright painful at this point. If he has to spell it out for you then so be it.

He looks you in the eyes, his expression as serious as it’s ever been on his most important mission and takes hold of your hands in his. They give a gentle squeeze, urging you to pay attention. Then, he points his index finger to himself, makes a heart with his hands, and points to you. Repeats twice more for good measure, and looks at you with a gaze he hopes says I’ve loved you since I met you, you are so, SO precious to me.

There, he thinks, there’s no explaining it away this time; there’s little room for interpretation in those movements.

Your face morphs with the motions of tentative understanding, a curious disbelief present in your expression. You could imagine his voice, the sound of it dutifully committed to memory despite its infrequency — saying the words along with each movement: I. love. you. I love you. I love you.

“Don’t mess with me Toge,” the last vestiges of your hesitation voice themselves, stern despite the giddy excitement that sent your stomach fluttering, “flirting is one thing but this is entirely different, it’s cruel.”

My god, the cursed speech user thinks to himself. You’re certainly not making this easy on him, a fact he supposes is only fair considering how long he’s let this go on. He shakes his head, a baffled smile playing across his lips. Well, that only leaves one option.

“I love you.”

This time, the sound of his voice is not imagined. He doesn’t imbue any cursed energy into the words but the air around you two still seems to tingle with a latent electricity in their wake. You shoot him a shocked look, eyes wide as saucers as your mouth opens to chastise him. But Toge is quick — and somewhat impatient after all this time — leaning in before your accusation can be fully voiced to cut it short with a long overdue kiss. Your admonitions are forgotten completely the moment his lips meet yours, mind consumed with the feeling of it, with him.

It’s a soft thing, your lips moving gently together for only a few precious seconds that still manage to send your head spinning. When you retreat slightly, forehead resting on his own, he grins wildly before pulling you back in for another, deeper embrace that brings his hands to either side of your face and presses yours eagerly against his chest.

Minds rushing with the thrill of it all you both stay there for the better portion of the evening, making up for the lost time. Lips on swollen lips, hands in tangled hair, just kissing, kissing, kissing…

***

A few days later, you and Toge are at Yuji and Megumi’s apartment to gather with all your friends for the first time since the two of you made it official.

The group chat went absolutely wild when Toge announced your status as a couple by casually sending a picture he’d taken of your arms wrapped around him and face buried in his neck — and after a barrage of excited texts, decided that you all needed to get together to celebrate.

“Finally!” Yuji exclaims loudly as soon as you walk through the door, wrapping both you and Toge into a tight bear hug that lifts your feet off the ground. “I knew it! I totally called it. Did I not call it?”

“Hardly impressive on your part,” his roommate chimed in from behind him where he stood with his hands in his pockets. “We all knew it was going to happen eventually.”

Fushiguro nudged around his loud, enthusiastic friend to greet the two of you with handshakes and quick ‘good to see you’s before retreating to the kitchen to get drinks for his guests.

“I called it.” Yuji insisted. Then, “come!” He waved you both towards where everyone was gathered and joined them. Maki and Nobara were wedged on the couch, sharing the one remaining cushion not occupied by Panda’s hulking form. And Yuta, smiling proudly at the two of you like he especially had known the inevitability of this pairing, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of them.

You and Toge exchange greetings with the others, join Yuta on the floor, and fall into easy conversation with the group who had only grown closer in the years since graduation. Toge’s arm wraps around you instinctively, pulling you close to him. He’s so caught up in the boastful satisfaction of the action he hardly notices when Fushiguro returns passing out drinks. You take his drink for him along with your own, offer an apologetic smile for your raven-haired friend that is met with an understanding smirk and shake of his spiky head.

Hours pass, drinks are downed and conversation gets louder and more interspersed with raucous laughter.

“So which one of you started that bet anyway?” You ask eventually, playful and curious. “And which ones of you bet against us, huh?” You cross your arms over your chest and look at the group, narrowing your eyes in faux suspicion as you examine them. It’s this action that stops you from noticing the way your boyfriend straightens, sharing a look with his best friend across the coffee table. One that contains the guilty awareness of a schoolboy about to be caught in his mischief. Yuta stifles a laugh.

The rest of them exchange confused looks, then looks of understanding, before joining Yuta in suppressed amusement.

“You haven’t told them yet?” Maki directs her incredulous question at Toge, and scattered snickers and gasps follow from the rest of them. You watch him intently for his response. Which, is at moment, only a sheepish grin and deep blush of his cheeks.

Just like the night that he kissed you for first time and told you he loved you, this time slightly dulled by the drink, the gears in your mind start to turn and you start putting it all together. Then it clicks.

“Oh my- I’m so dumb.” You chastise yourself for the delayed understanding and Nobara bursts out laughing. Grabbing her stomach and falling back dramatically against her girlfriend who only halfheartedly rolls her eyes before joining in with a chuckle of her own. Of course Toge had been the one to start the bet. Which was in truth less a wager on whether or not the two of you would get together, but how quickly. Of course he knew Yuji and Nobara wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about it, eventually making it known to you.

You turned on him then with a knowing smirk and leaned towards him, “Were you planning on telling me, hmm?”

He shrugged, blushing more furiously now as your face neared his.

“Well,” you say, now just inches away from him, “I’m glad you did it either way.” You close the last of the small distance and catch his lips in a kiss. He kisses you back, and the way it sets his heart racing is enough to distract him from the teasing hooting of your friends who are most definitely not going to let him live down either this display of public affection, or his part in the bet that started all this. Which is just as well to him. He’d been playing the long game after all, and the outcome was exactly as rewarding as he’d hoped.

[piecesofeden11]

Snippet of Perfect Rhythm, if you've got one?

Unfortunately, PR is still in the woefully unedited state I left it after NaNo23 BUT I'll happily share! Have a judge's table moment from one of the shows! With a little bit of ... drama! *jazz hands*

~*~

Threepio's voice echoed through the ballroom, as the applause died down. "That was Obi-Wan and Anakin with their Jive. Whee, what a lively performance, you two! Obi-Wan, that looked positively exhausting. How are you feeling?"

"Was that a jab at my age?", Obi-Wan asked, only half in jest, but smiled graciously for the camera, making a show of catching his breath a little more, Anakin's hand warm and steady at his back. "I'm, as you can see, a little out of breath, but thankfully, Anakin included a rigorous cardio training into this week so that could get through it without collapsing. I should say, it worked out well." He winked at the camera and the audience broke into exuberant cheers and laughter once again. Obi-Wan kept his eyes on Satine, who raised a very pointed eyebrow at him, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Well, well, well. I would agree. It has worked out but I'm just a humble host", Threepio tittered, the turned towards the judges table. "Let's asked the real professionals. Yoda, what did you think of this springy performance by our Team?"

"Springy it was, certainly. But a little stiff at times, hm? A little lifeless, yes? More emotion I hope to see from you next time, more you. A solid performance it was, nonetheless."

"Oooh", Threepio cooed, getting the audience to joining him in his exclamation. "Is the star sinking already? Mace, do you agree with your colleague? Was it lifeless?"

Mace Windu scowled, as he said leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Well, I wouldn't say lifeless, but I gotta say, I expected a little more. That felt like a school dance jive. Your technique was flawless and I'm glad to see you've overcome the issue of leading versus following, Obi-Wan, but I liked last week's dance better, too. This one was just a little bit too correct."

Anakin's hand on Obi-Wan's back balled into a fist again. Obi-Wan leaned into him a little more, trying to project a calm mind, while keeping his eyes focused on the last person to speak. Satine's nostrils were slightly flared, her eyes narrowed and Obi-Wan feared he may have taken it a bit too far with his earlier comment, but when Threepio addressed her with all the dressings of a royal courtier, she was perfectly cordial.

"I am with my fellow judges here. I saw an extremely well executed jive. In fact, there was not a single flaw in any of your steps and it would be remiss of me not to mention that fact." She waited indulgently as the audience graced that announcement with another round of cheers. Then she continued and Obi-Wan already knew what was coming. He wrapped his arm around Anakin's waist in a preemptive gesture of restrained and plastered his best neutral smile onto his lips. Satine's tone was equally neutral. "It lacked character. While I was watching I wondered which pairing I was judging, because nothing in your performance told me it was the both of you. I have seen the same performance a hundred times at a hundred competitions, not to mention all over social media and it was, frankly speaking, boring. I'm sure we'll be seeing you again next week, because again, technically, this was a flawless dance, but I really do urge you to bring more flair next week. Perfection gets boring very, very fast."

~*~ Please overlook any typos/grammar errors/senseless stuff ... like I said ... this is raw as a turkey!

[hylias-library]

@muffin-min I had to change blogs, so I don't have your original ask anymore, so I'll just tag you here and use screenshots!

You told me to go where I pleased after this conversation, so I did xd. I kept the conversation similar but replayed the scene with my own words. I hope you like it!

Also @pinkittwice you wanted a tag for this as well^^

[Navigation]

"Ok. Me and Warriors will check in at the guest house. Hyrule and Legend will get potions. Four and Sky will get new weapons for Wild. Y/n and Twilight will get new food rations." Time stated and then locked gazes with the Champion and the Sailor.

"Wild and Wind."

They looked everywhere but at Time.

"Don't cause a scene like last time. No fire around buildings."

They begrudgingly nodded, wandering off to explore the area while the other groups set off to gather what they needed.

You watched them retreat with a little half smile, then locked gazes with Twilight, who just shrugged. "They'll get over it."

Snorting, you shook your head and passed the rancher. "Come on. The food's not gonna buy itself!"

Twilight rolled his eyes with an amused huff, joining you. "You don't say."

You smacked him on the shoulder, laughing. "Just let me have this."

Happy you got paired with Twilight, you strolled towards a cluster of stalls you've spotted earlier. You had really taken a liking to the Hero of Twilight, and you welcomed every opportunity to be able to get a little closer to him.

Little did you know he felt the same way.

You've been browsing through the stalls of the market, Twilight already carrying a few new food items in his bags.

It was a lively place, with people shuffling all over and merchants giving each other shouting matches, trying to sell off their wares.

You had just stopped at another stall, looking at a few vegetables, when one of the merchants next to it started to yell.

"HEY YOU! YOUNG LADY!"

Confused, you looked around, then to the vendor, then to Twilight, then pointed at yourself.

He nodded energetically. "Yes! YOU! YOU'RE THE ONE!"

You blinked a few times, completely confused. "The one?... for what?"

What was he on about? You glanced at the rancher next to you, who just looked as lost as you were, shrugging his shoulders.

The man waved his hands around, gesturing intensely. "You're the one meant to be with me! My one and only future partner! So beautiful and graceful! I can already see it before my eye! A GREAT wedding! I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you!"

Your mouth fell open at his exclamation, stunned and at a complete loss of words. "I... what??"

The merchant nodded in approval. "I know. It's stunning to meet your soulmate. Of course, you'd be too flustered to say anything!"

He went around his stall, over to where you stood, and grabbed your wrist. "I bet you're going to look absolutely dashing in white! You should meet my family right now! They're going to adore you!"

You watched him in disbelief and started tugging on your wrist. He had a damn tight grip and was very much crazy to you. "No. Let me go. Now."

He ignored you, rambling on and on about his family and his delirious wedding plans, while trying to drag you along against your will.

"Let me go! You're making me uncomfortable!" You exclaimed, this time in a mix of annoyance and concern.

No response. Only more rambling. People were already starting to look your way to see what the cause of this ruckus was.

You were just about to protest again when someone grabbed you and pulled you behind them.

It was Twilight, who had watched the scene with growing displeasure.

"And who are you supposed to be?" The salesman asked in annoyance.

"I'm their friend." Twilight stated in a sour mood.

The salesman just huffed. "Can't you see I'm busy planning our wedding?" He said while trying to grab you again.

In concerning speed, Twilight grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it away from you. His gaze was cold and sharp, disapproval showing clearly, as he held the merchant in place.

"They said No."

The clerk shrunk under the ranchers, intimidating eyes. "I- I'm sorry."

Twilight tilted his head, his upper lip lifting slightly, as if he was baring his teeth.

How dare this random guy lay a finger on you. You were supposed to be with him.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

You've never seen someone nod their head as quickly as this guy before, instantly turning to you.

"I'm really sorry for my behavior and for making you uncomfortable." He tried to bow as good as he could, still being trapped by Twilight's iron grip, glancing at the rancher nervously.

Twilight wasn't satisfied. "And?"

The salesman gulped audibly. "And it will never happen again."

You nodded, having watched everything until now. "Yes." You replied soberly. "It should never happen again."

With that, Twilight let the man's wrist go before pulling him in harshly by his collar, making you gasp. Hands already gripping onto his tunic's sleeve. "Twi. Please, the people are already looking at us weirdly."

Twilight locked eyes with you, his gaze softening instantly, and nodded with a deep sigh.

His gaze snapped back to the now trembling vendor, eyes practically spitting fire.

"If I ever see you anywhere near them again, you'll have to deal with me. And I won't let you get away this easily a second time."

With that, the rancher let go, and the salesman scrambled away as fast as he possibly could.

Twilight cleared his throat when you let go of his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause a scene."

You softly huffed through your nose. And with a gentle smile on your lips, you stood on your tippytoes and placed a kiss on the hero's cheek. "It’s fine. Thank you for scaring him off."

Eyes traveling to where you've last seen the salesman, you rubbed the wrist that had been grabbed by him. "This was really creepy."

Seeking Twilight's gaze again, your lips lifted upwards again. "Let’s finish the shopping and then maybe take a rest at the river we saw earlier?"

Twilight smiled back, offering his arm to you, which you happily accepted. Maybe he'd shoot his shot with you sooner than he thought. It seemed he really had a chance.

"Anything for you."

[kkulbeolyeonghwa]

Ainu Language (1) アイヌ イタク （シネプ）aynu itak (sinep)

So because literally one person said that they'd read my posts about Ainu, I'll make this post.

Before reading: I am not fluent. I’ve been studying this language for about one year now. What I’ll present in this series is a bunch of translations and my interpretations of various sources (which are mostly Japanese, inaccessible to non-linguists, or both). I am mainly using the Southern Hokkaido dialects. I try not to include hyper-local dialects and use the most widespread versions of words, but as the Ainu language has multiple dialects, I might have to use dialects at times.

I will be using both katakana and Latin for this series. However, if you know katakana, you cannot just read the text as if you were reading Japanese. Get used to the Ainu katakana system before reading. If you're studying with the romanization, you can start reading right away as it is more true to the actual pronunciation compared to the katakana.

Grammar point 1.1) ク= | ku= | I 

So, “ku” is used in sentences to mean “I” when it’s a subject. This = notation is important in Ainu; it shows that this word is to be attached to a verb! Here are some examples:

ク ミナ ku=mina (mina - smile/laugh) I smile.

Here, the = sign shows that the subject, ku, is attached to the verb, mina. = does not have a sound, it is only used for ease of reading.

ク チシ ku=cis (cis - cry) I cry.

Again, ku= is attached to the verb cis.

Grammar point 1.2) エ= | e= | you

This one works the same way as ku=! Try to make sentences using this and the two verbs! Here are some new verbs to use;

エ モコロ e=mokor (mokor - sleep) You sleep. エ オマン e=oman (oman - go) You go.

Verbs are not conjugated in Ainu, so you can switch the pronouns and verbs up to make more sentences without worry. However, remember to keep the sentence structure the same and attach the pronouns correctly; the = should be attached to the verb.

ku=mokor, ku=oman, e=mina, e=cis.

Grammar point 2.1) Adding objects

ワッカ クヌカラ Wakka ku=nukar. I see water.

Wakka means water. The object is added before the subject and the verb.

チャペ エ ヌカラ Cape e=nukar. You see a cat.

Cape means cat. (Pronunciation tip: “c” in Ainu is pronounced like the “ch” in Japanese or English. “Y” in ainu is pronounced like “I”.)

Remember that these are only the pronouns to be used as a subject. 

Grammar point 2.2) He/She/They…

In Ainu, the 3rd person pronoun is dropped from sentences.

アプカシ apkas - (he/she…) walks シニ sini - (he/she…) rests カラ kar - (he/she…) makes

Remember, the verbs don’t have conjugations, so you can just stick the pronouns from earlier to these and call it a day!

You can also add a noun as a subject;

エカシ アプカシ ekaci apkas - the old man walks. チェプ シニ cep sini. - the fish rests. チャペ ミナ cape mina- - the cat smiles.

Grammar point 2.3) Commands

These are easy. Just say the verb and add an exclamation mark! No conjugation, no subject, no nothing. Simple!

エク! Ek! - come! ヌ! Nu! - listen! ヌカラ! Nukar! - look!

Want more Ainu? Like this post! I'll make more if there is demand!

[sugaredoleander]

i just took my final ancient greek exam of the semester yesterday and have been avoiding studying for my microbiology exam all day. so let's talk about these three devastating lines from anne carson's translation of herakles

and by talk about i mostly mean here's a bunch of different translations

Ἡρακλῆς μαινόμενος - Herakles by Euripides, lines 1398-1400

c. 416 BC.

original text in Ancient Greek via the Perseus Digital Library

Euripides. The Complete Greek Drama, edited by Whitney J. Oates and Eugene O'Neill, Jr. in two volumes. 1. Heracles, translated by E. P. Coleridge. New York. Random House. 1938.

Herakles translated by Anne Carson in Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides (pg 81-82) 2006

Internet Archive

H of H playbook by Anne Carson (not a direct translation but a reimagining of Herakles, 2021)

Euripides: Herakles, translated by Tom Sleigh, Oxford University Press, 2001

Ian C. Johnston, 2020

Heracles, translated by William Arrowsmith, from Euripides III: Heracles, the Trojan Women, Iphigenia Among the Taurians, Ion (The Complete Greek Tragedies - Euripides III, University of Chicago Press, 2013 (Arrowsmith's translation itself is from 1956)

my own translation with notes under the cut

* everywhere that I have used [] I have inserted a word that does not technically appear in the original text.

Theseus Stop! Give [your] hand [to me], [your] servant [and] friend. 

*more literally: Stop! Give [your] hand to a servant/helper [and] friend.

* Ancient Greek uses different punctuation, though the : symbol is used roughly the same way as it is in English and exclamation points are not used, verb conjugation in English does not differentiate the imperative mood, which παῦσαι (sg.2.aor.imperat.med-pass) is in, and often the way we show imperative mood in written English is with an exclamation point. 

-The word δίδου (sg.2.praes.imperat.act.) is also imperative. 

-παῦσαι is said in reference to Herakles’ earlier lines, lamenting his - well, the plot of Herakles.

* The particle δὲ has been omitted from the translation. It’s usually translated as but, and, or then. 

* The possessive pronoun your - σός - does not appear but is implied.

* χεῖρ᾽ is the short version of χειρός - hand

* ὑπηρέτῃ φίλῳ are both nouns in dative, here answering the question to whom? The word and - καί - does not appear between the two, likely because poetic language. The word ὑπηρέτῃ can also mean rower, an underling, servant, attendant, assistant, and is often translated here as helper. The word φίλῳ is a form of φίλος - friend, loved, beloved, dear

Herakles No, lest I wipe off blood on your garments.

* Word order changed slightly. The first word is ἀλλ᾽ - poetically shortened version of ἀλλά - usually translated as but, however, here: lest.

* ἐξομόρξωμαι (sg.1.aor.med-pass.) means wipe off or wipe away, but stain is, in my opinion, not an inaccurate translation in regards to the meaning conveyed.

* πέπλοις means any woven cloth, here usually translated as garments, robes or clothes. 

* αἷμα means blood and is grammatically either nominative or accusative, probably accusative, μὴ means not and σοῖς is a second person possessive pronoun in plural dative.

Theseus Wipe it off, spare naught: I [do] not refuse [you].

* ἔκμασσε (sg.2.praes.imperat.act.) - wipe it off - is imperative again, so is φείδου (sg.2.praes.imperat.med-pass.) - spare.

* μηδέν I translated as naught as in nothing, οὐκ means not

* ἀναίνομαι is in sg.1.praes.ind. - so present tense would be the most literal translation, ie. I do not refuse you, but the meaning might best be conveyed in English with the use of future tense, ie. I will not refuse you. The word can also mean reject, deny, renounce and disown, or be ashamed. Possible other translations: I don’t deny you; I won’t reject you; I am not ashamed; I won’t renounce you.)

That's all on Herakles, the rest is me rambling about Ancient Greek grammar for interested parties (mostly myself). If I could put a second cut here, I would.

Some further notes on the grammatical cases and verb conjugation. You'll have noticed that I've followed verbs with parentheses with some abbreviations. I'll break those down a little for those not in the know: unlike English, Ancient Greek has different endings to denote the person in verb conjugation - 1.sg being first person singular as in I, and so on with 2.sg - you, 3.sg he/she/singular they, 1.pl - we, 2.pl - plural you, 3.pl - plural they. There's also technically an extant dual form in some texts (when speaking of a pair of two) but it's rare. Ancient Greek conjugation also varies a lot by the temporal tense, the ancient greek times are present (praesens - praes.), future (futurum and futurum III), imperfect (imperfectum), strong and weak aorist (aor. - this one doesn't exist in any modern languages and is a bit of a jeremy bearimy but is usually translated as either present or past, depending on the context), perfect (perfectum), and pluperfect (pluscuamperfectum) - all of these except imperfect and pluperfect (which only have indicative forms) then have various forms - indicative (ind.), infinitive (inf.), imperative (imperat.), optative (opt.) and conjunctive (coni.). Verbs also have an active (act.) and middle and passive or active and mediopassive (med-pass.) form, except some verbs only have mediopassive versions and are thus translated as either active or mediopassive depending on the context. This is as complicated (and fun!) as it sounds. (editors note: the fun! was not sarcastic - i am a medstudent who hasn't had to take two semesters worth of classes on this, nor do i have to keep taking ancient greek next semester but i'm going to)

Nouns in Ancient Greek also have grammatical cases, nominative, genitive, dative, accusative and vocative, as do adjectives. They also have genders, and adjectives of course have positive, comparative and superlative (good, better, best) forms.

Ancient Greek also uses a lot of participles, which is like a noun-ified verb. Participles are also a concept in English, just - a lot simpler in English, and also I think in English a participle is a verb that has some characteristics of an adjective or noun, whereas in Ancient Greek participles and verbal adjectives are separate concepts. Participles are derived from verbs and have the same grammatical cases as nouns, nominative, genitive, dative, accusative and vocative, and singular and plural versions, and have three genders, masc., fem. and neut. - they also have active and mediopassive forms, and differ based on the temporal conjugation of the verb, retaining its augment, reduplication, characteristic added letters (for example σ in the future tense, and θη + σ in the passive future) or lack thereof, also they can have different endings or roots based on the tense. So, yeah, "conjugate and translate this verb in part.fut.pass.sg.masc.gen. and II aor.part.act.sg.acc.fem." is what a test question might look like at my level of studying ancient greek.

Sentence constructions also differ from English, some of the most common ones are AcI, NcI, genitivus absolutus. accusativus duplex and nominativus duplex. They also will often skip words (particularly the verb to be they often deemed unnecessary) and poetic language is its own can of worms with its own theoretical dialects and prosody.

All of this is like, barely scratching the surface, there's also a bunch of different dialects, stuff varies by era, all of the noun cases have like, a Bunch of different uses, and it's all terribly interesting.

[luniidae]

~ Of Gold and Blood ~

~ The Encounter ~

Chapter I

Note: Hi everyone! I recently started to rewrite some chapters of my fic to improve it with new scenes, lore, and new illustrations... There will be details which won't respect the DnD universe, just so you know. Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy it!

Please keep in mind that English isn't my native language, thanks! 🖤

You can now read it on AO3 ✨

            What could be said is that Luvia didn't have an ordinary childhood, but actually, she didn't really have the time to have one. The little girl was only 6 years old when she crossed paths with a certain warlock, Korilla Hearthflame. 

This encounter would change the course of her life, but no one could say yet if this was for the better or the worse...

           Korrilla was on a mission for her devilish boss, Raphael, when she stopped at the Sunken Flagon of Neverwinter. The air was fresh but not cold, and the uproar of clinking mugs and the cheerful exclamations could be heard from the outside. 

She didn't intend to stay for the night though, since the boss's business doesn't wait. She still took the time to relax a bit with some refreshment before hitting the road again. It had been a long day after all, and it wasn't over yet. She was on her way to collect a particularly ancient and rare book for her master. It belonged to a wizard who was so desperate to possess the absolute knowledge he was ready to part with his most precious possession.... And his soul. His delicious, power hungry, soul. 

              A simple and pretty common request from a mortal of his kind, the usual routine. As promised, he knew everything.... And anything. From the most useful information to the most insignificant one, and it appeared to be far less entertaining than he expected. Researches were an important and stimulating part of any wizard's life, but what is the point of searching when you know everything already? Beside the incredible boredom of his new life, he didn't certainly expect his brain to be too "small" for such an amount of knowledge. The flow of the thoughts in his mind was so intense and unstoppable that the poor man eventually went mad and threw himself from the window of his tower. What a pity.

              A few uninteresting chats and a pint later, it was time for our golden dwarf to get back to her work. However, as she left the inn, she suddenly felt like she was being watched. She scanned the surroundings and caught the sight of two red points in the darkness of a rooftop, facing the establishment. 

             There it was, a tiny silhouette sitting near an open window that probably overlooked its bedroom. It didn't move an inch and silently observed the passers-by from the shadows. Its eyes, like two rubies glowing in the night, were locked on her.

Korrilla thought it was a vampire at first, but the spark in its gaze seemed.... Different. Anyway, she decided to keep an eye on the little creature, just in case it would have been stupid enough to see the warlock as a prey. 

             The dwarf took to the road again, the wizard's tower was no longer far from here and she could reach it on foot in less than an hour or so. A soft breeze was caressing her face while she was walking, and the smell of the night air was invigorating, helping her to clear her mind after the beer she drank earlier. It was nice sometimes not to use a portal, she thought. 

But she remained on her guard, because she knew she was being followed, and she knew by who, or what. Korrilla wondered what interest she could have aroused. Did the creature want her gold? Her blood? Or was it simple curiosity? That's what she would find out soon...

                As she was approaching her destination, she felt a presence in her back, but nothing like what she perceived earlier in the shadows. This time, there were really someone behind her. The warlock didn't give her little spy the time to do or say anything since she suddenly turned on her heels to face them, ready to vanish in a mist if necessary. It was a girl and she didn't fight back when the young woman grabbed her forearm firmly. She instinctively curved her back like a frightened kitten, and the grip of her tiny hand on Korilla's as she was trying to remove it was weak and ridiculous. The creature seemed harmless and miserable, but Korilla was now able to take a closer look at her. She had long and dark brown hair, a bit messy, she had pointy ears and two little horns. Her eyes were a deep red tone and her skin was pale.... But not pale enough to be a vampire. Moreover, it seemed like she had no pointy teeth either. 

"Hmf, nice try, little Tiefling", the young woman said, a smug look on her face. But she interrupted herself as she observed the girl. She didn't look exactly like a tiefling despite her appearance. She had no tail and none of those sharp traits. Actually, she looked more like an elf with horns and vampire eyes. 

               What a strange mix... She thought, but her attention was caught by something else. The little girl had a few bruises on her, not big ones, but still... Korrilla got lost in her thoughts for a second. Those bluish marks on a so young skin reminded her of her life before she moved to the House of Hope with her sister. 

               Her previous master had no consideration for her, giving her nothing but crumbs to eat.... Well, when she could. Being at the service of a devil might have seemed problematic for some, but at least, Raphael treated her well. Korilla came back to her sense and looked at the horned creature in the eyes.

"What do you want?", she asked.

She paused for a few seconds, her gaze locked on the child's face and more specifically, those scarlet eyes. There was something strange about her... But she couldn't really explain it or tell if it was in a good or a bad way. The young girl's lips parted.

"I......", she started to whisper without finishing her sentence. She didn't really look scared, but surprised and lost, as if she herself didn't know why she's been following her from the tavern. 

"You should get back home, kid, the streets aren't safe at night", the dwarf added. 

At those words, a slight change occured in the child's gaze. She suddenly looked reluctant and tried to take a step backward in an attempt to break free from Korilla's grip.

"Ouch !", the girl exclaimed. 

She looked down at her feet, and so does the warlock. She had stepped in a few pieces of broken glass, and the poor fabric of her shoes was too thin to prevent the sharp object to pierce the flesh.     

           She stood on her other foot, making little jumps while she was removing the glass pieces. Korrilla released her grip on her, allowing her to run away when something caught her eyes again... A few little and red swirls of magic appeared when she accidentally cut herself. It was very weak, but it came from her wounded foot. She raised an eyebrow and was about to call after her, but she eventually did nothing. She looked at her go in the dark streets, noticing two little red point looking back at her from time to time as the creature moved away quickly. That was magic trace, not blood, or not entirely, she was sure of this. But she couldn't afford to waste any more time and she kept heading to the tower as planned. 

             Once Korrilla collected the precious book she came for, she opened a portal to the House of Hope. It was good to be back home, but she couldn't help but think of her last encounter. Where did the girl go? Did she go back home? Why did she look suddenly so concerned when the warlock told her to do so? To this last question, she could easily guess the answer. The bruises she had seen on the creature's arms weren't due to some too enthusiastic child plays. But she quickly chased the thought out of her mind and headed to Raphael's office. 

              The door was open but she knocked at it nonetheless. Her boss was focused on some paperwork at his desk, he spoke without looking up.

"There you are, Korrilla. I hope my ambitious yet tragic client has not been to reluctant to honor his part of the deal". The cambion chuckled, amused by his own joke.

He knew the wizard wouldn't handle such power, so much knowledge was simply too much for a pathetic being like him. The cambion haven't even bothered himself to take the book right away when he made him sign the contract. 

"Oh do not worry, I'll come back in a few days to take my due, and you'll tell me everything about this new and fascinating life of yours. I can't wait...", he had said to him. 

Korrilla smirked as she took a few steps forward, "Oh he was delighted to part with it", she answered. She put the packaged object on the desk.

"I suppose you have faced no difficulties there", the devil said, taking the book to remove delicately the fabric it was wrapped into.

"Not at all. I just have been slowed by... A curious little thing...", the dwarf answered.

"Is that so...?"

"Oh nothing important really, just a strange kid who's been following me all the way to the tower"

Raphael raised an eyebrow, "You've been slowed.... By a child.... ?"

Korrilla caught a mix of disbelief and exasperation in her boss's eyes, as he was trying to understand how such an insignificant nuisance could have been important enough for her to mention it. 

"Well, this kid didn't look like an ordinary one after all", she quickly added as if she was trying to make it look like a good excuse, "And her blood smelled like pure magic"

The devil slightly frowned.

".... Magic?", he said with a sceptical tone. For a second or so, he almost seemed to stare at her in order to check if she was drunk or something. 

"Yes"

The mention of the girl was a bit weird already, but this particular detail managed to catch his attention though.

"Did you kill her to know such a thing?"

"No, she cut herself actually", she answered with a hint of exasperation in her voice, "I thought she was a vampire Tiefling"

"But she was not... ?"

"No and I had a weird feeling about her when she looked at me", she admitted.

"My my, it seems that she made quite an impression on you", Raphael noticed, "How was she ?"

Surprisingly, Raphael really looked curious about it. His warlock didn't used to waste her time with minor details, so it was quite intriguing to see her react this way and he wanted to know why. 

            The dwarf made him a detailed description of the child, talking about her non-tiefling features, the absence of tail, her pointy ears, and those particular red eyes. The cambion looked very serious as he listened to her, as if he was thinking about something at the same time, taking mental notes of her words. 

"Hm...", he seemed lost in his thoughts for a few seconds, "Keep an eye on her", he simply said, his chin resting on one of his fists. 

The young woman looked a bit confused. This horned little creature was strange for sure, but did it worth it to watch over her?

Nonetheless, she nodded, "Alright, consider it done"

"Good", Raphael made a gesture to indicate her to leave him alone, and so she did. 

He didn't say anything but the description Korilla gave to him reminded him of something. Something deep and ancient.... And certainly useful if his suspicion happened to be true. But he needed to make some research first. 

             When he was done with his current matters, he headed to his library looking for some specific books. He had an idea of the nature of the child, he suspected her to be a Dracanist, even if it seemed pretty unlikely. But the reaction of the blood and the uncomfortable aura were two fundamental elements to him, the only details which made him doubt and think there might be something interesting to find out.

             The Dracanists were an ancient race, extinguished for centuries. Or at least, they were supposed to be. This people was known for their regenerative faculties and their unique and particular use of blood magic. Raphael remembered having seen some of them in his young years... They could have been easily mistaken with Tieflings or devils, but unlike them, they had no tail (and no wings). A simple yet important detail when you wanted to make the difference between them, but most of the mortals wouldn't pay attention to it. 

           Apart from that, they all had pointy ears, as long as high-elf's, and characteristic scarlet eyes which could be seen in the dark. Not very discreet, he thought, but probably terrifying for whoever happened to cross paths with them in the middle of the night. And they had horns.... Very special horns. There were so little information about these that no one actually know how it worked exactly, but those horns were the source of their regenerative power. They used to be cut sometimes, but only a very short amount of it, to be used in some healing processes. There were a very few known cases of people cured thanks to a Dracanist horn, and the effects on average creatures such humans were apparently incredible. 

              But it wasn't even the most interesting part. Their power was great, impressive, dangerous.... But there was also a reason for them to be called "Dracanists". They were apparently related to dragons, but nothing to do with dragonborns or something. All the Dracanists were capable of turning themselves into blood dragons. Creatures so fierce that the Githyanki's red dragons themselves almost feared them. They didn't breathe fire, but something like bloody putrid waves, devastating and painful, making instantly rot anything in their wake.

              A slight grin appeared on Raphael's face. If the girl Korilla met was really such a being, and this young, it could be interesting to keep her close. He was a very ambitious devil after all and, one day, he would take over the nine hells, he was sure of that. But it required a meticulous and very well prepared plan... And some specific artefacts. He didn't have all of the necessary elements yet, but he could keep the pretended Dracanist near him, manipulate and shape her just like he would like to so he could

use her powers in due time. In the meantime, he would eventually pay her a visit soon...

To be continued...

Bonus: Chapter 1's first version illustration

[ramshackle-ramblings]

Happy Birthday, Tilly!

Tilly belongs to @sunnysidesevenup, I've just borrowed them for the afternoon.

"No, I'm not buying you a cake," Alise sighed. "We are here for bread only. This is why Mouse doesn't bring you shopping."

"Look, we could eat it here," Grim pointed to the tables set up on one side of the bakery. "Mouse would never have to know!"

"I'm not  stealth buying you cake!"

"You could get that one, with the strawberries," Grim tried again. "And you could invite Riddle, and it would be like a party!"

"Riddle doesn't need me to buy him a cake," Alise replied, choosing a crusty cottage loaf from the shelf. "He has a Trey."

"Well, it's my birthday."

The girl and the dire beast turned to the speaker. He leaned against wall of the bakery, arms crossed across his chest, legs crossed at the ankle.

"Happy birthday?" Alise said cautiously, tilting her head curiously.

"Yeah, what's that got to do with anything?" Grim demanded.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry," the man said, pushing himself off the wall. Alise had never seen anyone look so crushed, he looked like he had handed her something precious and she had dropped it at her feet and ground it into the mud. "I thought we were looking for an excuse to buy a cake."

" … We?"

"Obviously."

She threw one hand in the air in exasperation. "I am not buying a perfect stranger a cake! Even if it is their birthday!"

"Of course not," he said, catching her hand and shaking it vigorously. "I'm Tilly. Now we're imperfect strangers!" He walked over to the display case, dragging Alise behind him. "I like that one," he pointed.

"I still didn't agree to buy a cake!"

"But Alise, it's his birthday!" Grim bounded after them, seizing any advantage. "What about this one? With the sugar flowers?" He suggested the cake he had been eyeing earlier.

"Oooh, no, the carrot cake!"

"I don't know why you two are picking out a cake I'm not going to buy," Alise stood behind them, arms crossed.

Tilly and Grim both turned around, eyes dramatically wide, the potential for tears obvious.

"But ... It's my birthday," Tilly said, perfectly timed with Grim's exclamation of the same sentiment.

Alise blinked at the two of them, and then burst out laughing. She pushed past them to the register, still laughing.

"Does that mean we're getting the cake or not?" Tilly asked Grim.

The little monster shrugged. "I don't know."

Alise put the loaf of bread on the counter. "Could I get the carrot cake in the case, too?" She asked quietly. "And could you write 'Happy Birthday, Tilly' on it?"

She grabbed a 10-pack of candles from the display beside the register, and then a second one. She turned and took a long look at Tilly, and added a third pack to the pile.

Alise stood to the side with her bag, waiting for the cake. Tilly appeared on one side of her and Grim on the other, both grabbing an arm with glee. She looked down at Grim.

"I don't know why you're so happy. It's not your cake."

"But we're cutting it here, aren't we? So everyone gets a piece?" Grim asked, suddenly worried. It hadn't occurred to him that Alise might just give the whole cake to Tilly, and all his work would be for naught.

"Of course we are!" Tilly declared. "You have to celebrate with me!"

"Yeah, he doesn't have anybody else!" Grim decided.

"Not a single soul," Tilly said, shaking his head sadly.

Alise laughed again, shaking them off to collect the cake.

"Could I possibly get some plates, and borrow a knife?" She asked the baker.

She brought the cake to a table, Grim following with plates and forks, and Tilly with the knife.

Tilly squealed with delight when Alise opened the box, and he saw the writing on it.

Alise opened all three packs of candles and dumped them on the table, and started stabbing them into the cake. Tilly watched, chin resting in his hand, counting the candles as they went in. At 27, he started to frown. At 28, he drummed his fingers on the table. At 29 he looked at Alise in dismay.

"Thirty? Thirty?"

"I ran out of candles," she answered simply. "Grim, do your thing."

[wooahaes]

community & pumpkin patches

pairing: non-idol!vocal unit & gn!reader

genre: fluff! platonic content <3

word count: 0.9k~

warnings: food mentions. just silly pumpkin patch visits w the boys!!

daisy's notes: oh to go to a pumpkin patch and hold hands with jeonghan and take pics w seungkwan and--

For the past few weeks, you had today marked on your calendar in red. PUMPKIN PATCH W/ THE BOYS!!! (Yes, with three exclamation points, because that was how important today was to you.)

The six of you had met up at the pumpkin patch outside of the city, and came together to enjoy everything it had to offer. Jeonghan’s hand found your own all too soon as he stood between you and Joshua’s, swinging both of your hands as he walked with you. He’d been excited, too: this place had a small petting farm, and the two of you admittedly gushed a little over seeing baby sheep. Seokmin came up to your other side, hand slipping into your own as he walked alongside you. Jihoon and Seungkwan were walking slightly ahead of the four of you, Jihoon staring down at his phone. You’d seen this place’s website open on it earlier.

“Vernon said the apple cider is here,” he mused aloud. 

Seungkwan let out a scoff, rolling his eyes. “I also said that it's good.” 

“You did?” Jihoon looked up, saying nothing for a moment as his cheeks turned red. “Sorry.” 

The moment passed all too quickly, as Seungkwan pointed out the sunflower field off to the right. There was a sign talking about prices for people to pick sunflowers, but… “I want to take pictures before we leave,” he said, turning back to face the rest of you. “Okay? We’re not leaving until we take pictures together.” 

Joshua smiled. “We know, Seungkwan.”

The six of you had been talking about this trip for the past week, after all. Jeonghan quickly brought up the fact that he and Seungkwan wanted to get maybe a smaller pumpkin for their apartment to keep near the entrance—they’d carve something cute into it as a little greeting for guests—and maybe stick a scented candle inside of it. Joshua pulled his hand free from Jeonghan’s at one point, drifting off to look at something that had caught his eye, leaving you to wander onward with the rest of the group. Jihoon split off to get apple cider, Seokmin coming after him with the promise to get you a cup as well, leaving you and Jeonghan to swing arms as you pranced forward together. Seungkwan rolled his eyes for maybe a minute before Jeonghan grabbed his hand, too—and you caught a glimpse of that smile on his face. The Jeonghan smile that often said “I’m not stopping until you smile, because I’m your favorite nuisance.” 

Only for him to look ahead, letting go of both of your hands. He turned back, calling your name as he rushed ahead toward the little petting farm, slowing down as he approached it as to not scare anything. He waited for you near the sheep, crouching down to look at the more curious babies that had come over.

Jeonghan ushered you over, almost like a mother would with her kid (team mom Jeonghan always seemed to shine through on these group outings). “Seungkwan-ah, get a picture of us!”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes yet again for a moment, unable to suppress a smile. As embarrassing as it might be to have friends like this, you knew that he loved you all with his entire heart. “Fine,” he said, “but I’m only giving them cute stickers.”

The two of you posed just long enough for Seungkwan to take a nice picture before you immediately turned to carefully pet the baby. You were sure that you could hear the shutter of Seungkwan’s phone as he snapped more pictures, but you were riding this high of ‘baby animals adorable’ instead. 

“I think,” Joshua announced as he came back over, “I made a good purchase.”

You looked up from where you were watching Jeonghan was trying to attract a cow that was on the other side of its pen. Joshua pulled out a small pumpkin, big enough to fit snugly in his hand, from behind his back.

Fuck, he was right. Solid purchase, ten out of ten, he needed to watch it because you might try to steal it. Pumpkins were cool and all, but baby pumpkins? They had the additional factor of ‘tiny’ to make them cute (similar to the way Jihoon acted sometimes where that tiny ‘whoa!’ was one of the cutest things he could ever say). 

Jihoon and Seokmin eventually rejoined the group, carrying cups of apple cider for the rest of you. For a moment, the six of you walked away from the petting farm area, enjoying the chill of autumn and the combative warmth of the apple cider, sweet and tart on your tongue. Jihoon had admitted that Seungkwan (and, technically, Vernon) had been right about it, all while pulling his scarf a little more snug, while Seokmin huddled closer to you for warmth. 

“Just for now,” he said softly, “I promise.”

Truthfully, Seokmin could cuddle closer to you in the middle of summer and you probably wouldn’t have the heart to shove him away immediately. But now, in the colder morning? His presence was more than welcome, and you’d slipped your hand out of your pocket to hold his again. Sure, it would warm up a little more later, sure, but the six of you had agreed to come out early to try and avoid any heavy crowds and the heat. It was nicer this way, too: you liked having these moments with your close friends, always finding something interesting to do. 

Maybe the six of you would come back next year. If you didn’t, at least you would have plenty of pictures of the six of you together by the end of it, standing in front of sunflowers and beaming with joy from being together again. 

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune