#that way i can block out the world and also make snow angels at the same time

[yerchokito]

PRETTY KITTY TURNS PRETTY HORNY .ᐟ FT SATORU GOJO

synopsis - finally you decided to adopt a new friend at the adoption centre! only, he wants to be more that friends…

warnings - p in v, brief oral sex (fem receiving) unprotected sex, slight manipulation(?) creampie, shitty smut, petname: master used mockingly, not thoroughly proofread, talk of potential children, lowk masochist gojo, ect ect. fem reader

notes - yay I finally got this out! lol it honestly did get a bit sloppy at the end but I wanted to get this out b4 christmas!enjoy! the smut is lowkey short but I don’t want to fix it..

edit - I just realised I posted this on his death date

Phew, you did it.

You finally grew a pair and adopted a newly rescued snow-leopard hybrid! After months of your self-pitying you managed to convince yourself to adopt a friend!

You spent many, many hours contemplating on whether to actually adopt. And many hours more watching sad videos on hybrids, how mistreated they are out of the adoption centre.

That was more than enough to convince you.

Now you have an exotic hybrid of your own! And he’s just the cutest little—er big thing! He’s got fluffy little ears, a handsome face, striking blue eyes, and the fluffiest tail in the world!

You’ve learnt a lot about him. His name is Satoru Gojo, around the same age as you! Unfortunately, he spent a lot of his life in illegal fighting rings. Poor thing almost got killed a while back. Luckily, his caretakers at the agency have had no aggression problems with him! He’s affectionate, friendly, reckless at times, but overall great to have as a first time owner!

He’s really—really big. His head just about reaches the ceiling of your small apartment. It's gonna be hard finding clothes for the man. Let alone a bed.

But that’s all a problem for future you!

Packing him in the car was a hefty thing, his tallness being the main problem, a little cramped (he had to lay half his body on the floor) but it worked in the end!

As soon as you bought the little—uh, big critter home, you pampered him with affections. Petting his head, rubbing his ears, scratching under his chin all that stuff that makes him mushy in the brain!

The only problem would be leaving him alone… he’s fairly clingy. You’ll just have to work on that. He seems capable enough. Hopefully…

Note to self: get a baby cam.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Maybe this was a mistake.

Satoru’s a really good guy, he’s friendly, definitely affectionate and really clingy. All good qualities that you love about him!

But, there are qualities you come to… dislike, so to say.

He’s bratty. defiant against your house rules, a back-talker.

He always wants attention. Pushing things off counters or using his tail to block your eyes whenever he wants to annoy you.

He’s very manipulative. Using his wide eyes to trick you—or anyone—into giving him sweets!

He’s also unbearably horny, probably his worst trait. Always trying to rub against you, heck even mount you! For someone so angelic-looking, he sure ain’t an angel.

And you can name a couple of… embarrassing incidents.

Incident #1

“Hey—Toru! What are you doing, stop that!” You shout, trying to push him back and away from— wait, are those your panties he has in your mouth!

“Satoru! Bad boy, get those out of your mouth!” You splutter, face flushing red.

But, apparently you adopted the devil.

He tilts his head in an innocent way, ears flopping to the side as he deviously munches on your precious—and very expensive—underwear.

You try to wrestle them away from his maw, unlucky for you, you’ve also adopted an abnormally tall hybrid. His innocent act drops as he dangles them above your head, laughing at your embarrassment.

Of course, he gave it back. Not without it slicked in his spit and now turned crotchless.

It was… not a great moment for you or your hopes of being dominant over him.

Incident #2

It’s a nice sunny morning, you got up earlier than your alarm, made a nice breakfast, and finally got that darned work assignment finished.

A peaceful day.

Until your precious kitty takes his biting urges on you.

“Satoru, do-don’t bite meee!” You whine, once again trying to push away the snarky beast. God, why must he be twice your size.

He chuffs, pining you with his weight as he nibbles at your skin. Tail swaying mischievously behind him.

“Mn—be still, lemme jus’…” He whispers. Devious man he is. His nibbling becomes full-blown bites, decorating your neck and collarbone in a bazillion bite marks.

Satoru only giggles at your pathetic attempts of squirming away. Pfft, you think he’ll let you walk away? Nothing gets away from his keen eyes.

Needless to say, the bite marks were not a fashion statement at work. Didn’t really capture as many complements as it did laughter.

Note to self: Invest in a muzzle.

Incident #3

Now, maybe this is your fault. You did notice the change in behaviour, he’s always been clingy— the staff at the agency did say he was… the possessive type. But! You didn’t notice the possessiveness until now! So it’s not entirely your fault.

Okay, maybe his growling at your friend— male, should you note— was a teensy red flag, the constant butting of his head against you was also alerting you. So you maybe-sorta-should’ve predicted this.

Maybe if you realised that Satoru is not entirely human (even though he acts like it), you would’ve remembered he has an amazing sense of smell.

“aaahnn… mornin’ Toru’, how did you sleep hm?” you yawn. The lack of response is unnerving, and rude.

“Hey now, ts’ not nice to ignore me, Satoru.” Again silence, wait—what the-?

“Oof! Satoru—gah!—get off!” You struggle, your overgrown hybrid kitty has decided to pounce on you, his full weight crushing you.

“H-hey—oh!” Did.. did you feel that correctly, is your boy.. oh gosh.

“Mrrow…mn, you smell s’ good.” His breath is hot against your neck, sniffing at your throat, his fuzzy ears rubbing under your chin.

“Mnh—heat, in heat? mrr..” He purrs, big hands encasing yours as the big idiot rocks his hips against your backside— oh my.

“H-huh? No, down Satoru! Bad boy—ooh!—don-don’t!” You try not to moan out as he ruts against you. Licking at the nape of your neck, almost mockingly.

“Heh— shh, I’ll take care of ya. Aw’ you’re so small compared to me..” Satoru breathes, chuckling like he always does.

…

Lets just say, Satoru has become real good friends with the spray bottle.

Note to self: Get him neutered.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

And there are way more incidents as… sexual as these ones. You love the big guy, he’s cuddly, got a fuzzy head, really warm, but he seems to really enjoy mounting you. Like, really badly.

He’s become a menace! I mean, you knew he wasn’t neutered, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in you!

It's almost everyday he tries to get in your pants! Gotta hand it to him, he’s really persistent.

Well, you won’t be taking any of his nonsense today!

“Satoru! Breakfast!” You yell out. You hear him scurrying around the corner, jeez food fein.

“Heh, mm waffles..” He purrs at your feet, nuzzling against the back of your knee.

He wraps his tail around your ankle, hands gently kneading at your leg. Nose twitching at the sugary smells.

“You hungry, sweetie?” You coo, petting the big oafs head.

Awh, maybe you’re being too harsh on him. He’s your baby, he doesn’t know any better!

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Oh who were you kidding, of course he knows what he’s doing! Why are you so gullible?

What was supposed to be a nice, calm, peaceful, non-sexual breakfast, ends up with your mischievous kitty munching on your pussy instead!

He’s got your legs up, knees having small-talk to your shoulders whilst he —quite literally— devours you.

“Satoruuu!— don’t do thaah! Oh!” You squeak. You weakly push on his head, trying to get him away from your front.

Unfortunately, Satoru is a determined cat.

“Mnn, be still. M’ hungry.” He purrs between your legs, the vibrations of his voice send tingles up your spine.

For Satoru, that delicious nectar leaking out of you is heavenly. Until this thin, pathetic piece of fabric ruins his meal. If only he could just…

rripp!

“H-huh? S’toru! Those were expensiveee— haa!” You scold. well, try to. It’s hard to speak when you’re literally breathless.

He tongues at your now naked pussy, slurping all that gooey goodness you so graciously produce. So sweet.

He pulls back, your cunt and his mouth connected by a sloppy string of spit. He coo’s and presses a kiss hard against your clit, making you twitch and moan.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the devil incarnate smiling so sweetly, his tail curling around your ankle. What was once a sweet gesture is now no longer reassuring.

Your ‘innocent’ kitty now has free rein to your more… primal parts. The stronger scent pulls on Satoru’s will, he whines at the sudden, yet aggressive urge to bury himself inside you.

Hmm maybe he should.

Hoisting himself up, Satoru leans back on his calves, admiring the little mess he’s made of you. Flushed red, panting, drooling, and completely high on the pleasure. His pants tighten.

He’s been blessed with such a cute owner!

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Haa— d’aww don’t be so shy, master. Heh—fhuck!” Said the devil incarnate, mockingly.

Satoru is a condescending bunch, cute but really full of himself. It’s shows in his way of fucking.

He has you on your back, legs resting on his broad shoulders as he literally folds you in half. Your head is just reeling, your face is covered in his spit, hairline all sweaty, jaw hanging open, and you're burning all over!

His cock is big, too big. It nearly split you in half when he tried to fit it in. He’s never been a patient kitty.

“Awhhh— masterrrr, you’re tightenin’ up sho’ muchhh…” He purrs. Tail swaying mockingly.

Leaning forward, Satoru nuzzles his ears against your cheek, wanting to be pet.

Unfortunately, you’re incoherent to his requests. Too focused on the harsh rutting of his cock into your sticky cunt.

“Heyyy… pet meee,” He whines, “Hm? Heh— tappin’ out already?” His eyes gleam with mischievous-ness as he grins a toothy grin. You’re not gonna make it out alive.

He bites his lip, giggling at your pleasured face. If only he could take a picture, save this moment forever. He cups your face, caressing your sweaty cheeks, then presses a loving kiss to your lips.

“Mwah! Hehe— you’re so cute,” He whispers against your lips.

In midst of this somewhat sweet moment, the pace of Satoru rolling his hips against you increases. Then turning into him full on slamming his hips into yours, huffing as he focuses on pounding you into next week.

All you can do is grip onto him, tugging on his ears. He moans pornographically, drooling as you harshly grip his sensitive ears. The painful yet pleasant sensation sparks something new in Satoru.

With the intent to breed, Satoru turns you over. His chest to your back as he leans his weight on you, arms wrapping tightly around your sweaty skin.

This new position gives Satoru a better chance at giving you some cute mini him’s!

“Oh! Oh!—Toruuu’!” You squeal, tears now brimming in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling that is undoubtedly him.

Without warning, you cum. Hole clenching and spasming and coating his lower body in a translucent liquid.

“Hm—hah— I knew you wan—ahn—wanted me!” He mewls, quickly pounding in and out, creating a wet ‘schlick!’ sound.

Oh you’re so perverted! Letting your precious kitty take you like this!

You’ll never live this down.

Satoru doesn’t seem to care.

“Oooh— m’ cumming, nng— masterrr!” He moans, non-stop humping into your creamy pussy, drooling all over you.

“Not—not insideee! Toru’!” You cry out, pushing your hips back to get him off of you, it does the opposite.

His tail wraps around your thigh as he cums. It splurts frantically inside of you, his cock twitching violently as he whines in pleasure.

It’s hot, sticky and definitely a thick load. It feels endless, liquidy rope after rope. But it feels so refreshing.

He pulls out (you didn’t think he would), nuzzling and purring at the nape of your neck. Innocently licking at your tear-stricken cheeks.

…

It’s been so long since you last experienced this pleasure.

You’ll definitely regret this later.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Oh god, why did you do that!

Having sex with a hybrid is just a different type of low, even for you!

Oh jeez, you're just as perverted as him! Oh whywhywhywhy! He was just supposed to be a companion! Not a—

“Mrr, pet meee..” Satoru whines, pawning at your chest. He’s back to his old self again.

Mostly. He’s become more… confident in his abilities over you. Let’s just say after your regrettable (not in his eyes) playtime with him, he has no restraint on mounting you now. The idiots even started humping you in public!

Which is why you’ve been leaving him at home.

Now more than ever, you two spend a lot of time together. Mostly consisting of naps, him licking you, more naps, eating… recreational activities, blah blah blah. He now sleeps on your bed, he’s more like an overstayed one night stand than an exotic cat.

At Least he’s extra cuddly!

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"On a snowy day." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

On a snowy day, Daryl's daughter tells him about an interesting conversation between you and Aunt Maggie, but Marley ends up spilling the beans to Carol too about her daddy's worst fear.

A/N: Just another sweet and funny imagine about Daryl and his daughter hehe another one to add to the list :) "My everything." "A whole new world." "For life." "Make you happy." Hope you like it♥

The whole street, the whole block, all of Alexandria is covered in snow, painting the world of the living white after being blood red for so many years. The green of the leaves has disappeared under the cold season, snowmen on every house as a reminder of the past. Snowflakes sway in a gentle dance in the evening breeze, under a sky that changes color with the passing of the hours.

On her way back home, holding her daddy’s hand, Marley’s little world seems infinite at 5 and a half years old. Her winter boots sink into the snow, lifting it slightly with each step she takes. Her brown hair is identical to her father’s, a little messy under her white wool hat.

“The shot still hurt, angel?” Daryl has to look down to meet his daughter’s gaze, blue eyes looking back at him, deeply. “Ya want daddy to carry ya the rest of the way?”

Marley nods, because the walk back from visiting her mom in the infirmary was too long for her little legs.

“Please, daddy.”

Daryl smiles as his ears fill with the tender, sweet voice of his daughter calling him daddy, a voice he learned to recognize ever since Marley said her first word. He has to bend down to pick her up, holding her against his chest as she hugs him close, his forearms beneath her, her small arms around his neck.

“Why are ya so cute, huh?” Daryl is still smiling as he sets off again for the walk home. “Ya do that on purpose, don’ ya? Is that yer master evil plan? To make daddy love ya so much he can’t breathe?”

Marley laughs, her gaze locked with her father's eyes, the corners of her lip curling into a smile as she continues to learn to understand the depth of her Daddy's love, but before she can respond, a neighbor's wave from her front porch forces them both to look to the right.

Daryl lets out a small hey back without stopping, followed by a nod before turning back to his daughter, but Marley’s eyes are still on the woman they leave behind.

“Sweetheart…” He uses his arms under her body to rock her once, softly, getting her to look back in his direction. “What’s wrong, angel?”

Marley holds a thoughtful expression, her brow furrowing slightly with the seriousness of her little thoughts at her short 5 years old. But Daryl can’t help but smile, because that expression is identical to yours when you both didn’t like something.

“Aunt Maggie told mommy that Mrs. Ellie likes to stare at you too much when you leave the house in your sleeveless shirt in the summer. She said the neighbor was a female version of a dog, but I don’t know what that means, daddy.”

Hearing her words, Daryl has to make an enormous effort not to laugh.

“Mommy said that? Or was it Aunt Maggie?”

“Aunt Maggie...” Marley tilts her head to the side, still thoughtful. “But Mommy said we needed to get you some baggy clothes, or burn that shirt, or maybe just get rid of the neighbor, but I don’t know what that means either.”

It’s hilarious for Daryl at the new information, though he does his best to remain cool, but there’s also something daring in your words, a compliment to his body even though he wore those clothes without a thought for others. Well, he knew he did it to get your attention, but not the rest of the world’s. Daryl also knew that kids didn’t know how to keep secrets, no matter if they knew or not that some things weren’t supposed to be said.

And he can’t help but smile.

“Oh yeah? And what else mommy said ‘bout daddy, Marley?”

Marley’s expression changes as in her mind, she starts putting the words mommy and daddy together.

“Mommy told Aunt Maggie that you are still very hot, like living forever on a summer day.” Daryl chuckles as does his daughter, having a blast with your unfiltered words, though he also knew that he had to teach his child later that listening to adult conversations was wrong. “Is that a good thing, daddy?”

“Well… that means mommy finds daddy attractive.”

Marley nods slightly.

“So you are handsome, because you are.” She smiles, because to her, Daddy is the most handsome man in the community. Daryl shakes his head, because his reserved personality still prevented him from seeing himself the way others did. “Mommy said she really likes your long hair.”

The corner of his lip curls into a smile, loving the way Marley’s small hands brush away the strands of hair that usually cover part of his eyes.

“Maybe Daddy should tell Mommy that he really likes her too.”

Marley lets out a sweet laugh, hugging his neck again.

“You stare at Mommy a lot, Daddy. Last week at Uncle Rick’s house, he told his wife that you couldn’t take your eyes off your wife.”

Even in the dead of winter, Daryl can feel the sudden warmth on his cheeks, spreading throughout his body as he climbs the steps of his front porch, walking over to the rocking chair in the corner to sit in it with Marley on his lap, her little legs swinging out on either side.

“Yeah, daddy likes to look at mommy a lot, angel, and s'cause mommy is a pretty thing to look at.”

Marley thinks for a few seconds, trying to understand such simple words that at the same time hide a deep meaning.

“The love you and mommy have for me, is it the same as yours for mommy?”

Daryl has to think about his answer for a few seconds, trying to explain with words that his daughter can understand, the love he had for her and for his wife.

“S'the same, but different. Mommy and daddy love ya with all their hearts, angel, 'cause ya came into our lives to make everythin' better. And daddy loves mommy with all his heart too, that’s why I asked mommy to be ma wife, so she’d be stuck with me for life.” Daryl tries not to laugh as he remembers that that was what he told you when you got married. “Mommy and daddy love each other a lot too, and ya were born from that love.”

Marley holds his gaze, her little mind trying to process his words.

“Aunt Maggie asked Mommy if you two were thinking about having another baby.” Marley tilts her head again, looking at her daddy with blue eyes that sparkle with curiosity. “Are we having another baby at home, Daddy?”

Daryl smiles as he uses one hand to tuck a strand of his daughter’s hair behind her ear, but for him, it’s a relief to see his baby willing to share her place as queen of the house.

“Don’ know, angel. Daddy thinks it might be a good idea for ya to have a lil’ brother or sister at some point, but that’s Mommy’s decision. S'her body that has to carry the baby, and Daddy ain't pressurin' Mommy into doin' anythin’ she’s not comfortable with, okay?”

Marley nods.

“But maybe if we ask Santa for a baby, he can bring one and Mommy won’t have to carry my little brother or sister inside her.”

Daryl chuckles, but he too is at peace with the idea that his daughter’s innocence is still intact in that cruel world.

“That’s an excellent idea, angel.” His hand, warm despite the season, caresses his daughter’s soft cheek. “If s'okay with Mommy, I know ya’ll be a great big sister.”

Marley smiles at the touch of her daddy’s fingers against her skin, not even noticing that his hand is calloused, somewhat rough, because he always caressed her cheek softly, so gently that she never noticed Daryl’s insecurity the first time he thought he would hurt her skin.

“You, Daryl Dixon…” Marley giggles, because she never used her daddy’s real name, because to her, he had always been daddy. “You’re a good daddy. The best daddy in the whole world.”

Like the snow melting when the weather leaves winter behind, Daryl feels an overflowing love for his little daughter, his baby, his angel, feeling her love that managed to melt those fears he harbored inside him, the mistaken idea that he would never be the father Marley deserved.

“Can ya stay this lil’ forever, angel? Can ya promise daddy ya will never leave his side?”

Marley tries not to laugh, making an effort to keep a serious expression to match her promise.

“I’ll never leave your side, daddy. I promise.”

Daryl smiles, and when he does, his expression softens, always, and his blue eyes become warm as he takes in how identical his daughter is to him.

“What’s this beautiful couple doing here?” Carol’s sweet voice draws their attention, and Marley has to turn to look at her, smiling the instant she recognizes her. Daryl pulls her off his lap, and his daughter clings to Carol’s body the moment she reaches the porch. “Are you better now, honey? Your mommy said you were getting a little sick.”

Marley looks up, smiling instantly.

“Yes, Denisse gave me a shot. It hurt a little, but when she told daddy he should get one too to prove to me it didn’t hurt, he told her only his wife could touch his ass.”

Carol’s laughter drowns out Daryl’s embarrassment, embarrassment he tries to cover with a serious expression, but when she says goodbye minutes later and Marley climbs back onto her daddy’s lap, he has to keep the same expression so as not to give himself away.

“Marley, sweetheart, s'okay when ya tell daddy that mommy thinks he’s attractive, but ya don’ have to tell everyone that daddy’s scared of shots, okay?”

Marley, though confused by the contradictory idea that always telling the truth is okay, nods before leaning against Daryl’s chest, one side of her face feeling the softness of his long–sleeved black t–shirt that he always pulls up to his elbows. Daryl chuckles as he wraps his arms around her, like a refuge from the slight chill while they wait for mommy to come home. Then, he shakes his head in disbelief, his long hair moving with him, because Daryl knows that when the day is over, his family, the family he made at the end of the world, will know that the man who survived a couple of gunshots and several fights is scared of shots.

Oh, but what the hell, because after marrying the love of his life and having a little girl as a daughter, everyone already knew that, despite his rough exterior, Daryl is a big softie (in a good way) for his girls.

@fluffy-dixon

[roomsofangel]

GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER NINE !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings none really!

wc 1.3k

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

this chapter is in san’s pov !

a/n i decided to update this today and give you all a double update for growing pains since i know it has been a good while:( let me know what you guys think :D

san thought he knew a lot of things back when he was still a rosy cheeked kid with deeper dimples than he had now — when he still had a lot of hope in the world and nothing snuffed out his spark just yet.

and maybe now that he’s an adult with more emotional scars than before, he can say he never wants anyone to feel the way he did. not since that night, he refuses to let anyone feel as if he has given up on them. sometimes he wonders if thats who he is or the fact he just wished no one ever gave up on him.

this small town, oh the ache it carried when he decided to come back three years ago to care for his mother. it was best to not live these days in his own rues, he had to learn to accept the past and embrace the future, no matter how much it ached.

and for the most part, san was fully convinced he was healed from that chapter of his life — that he no longer needed medication to make him feel alright.

“and this is yeosang.”

ah, that made his world shatter. kang yeosang in the flesh.

his eyes couldn’t help but match the other’s when they narrowed, eyeing and taking in the sight of how he was sat before the sound of your voice came up again, “you can sit by me if you want to.”

and san felt his heart ache a little, well— does it count as an ache? he hasn’t felt anything in his chest like this before, unless it was to do with hurt and sorrow. san nods, “of course yn.” he smiled, and tried to ignore the feeling of a glare on him as he took a seat with you, your smile warming him up.

it seemed that time was going by achingly slow, but san was thankful for the three that were there. mingi seemed to be decent, he reminded him of wooyoung. he should text wooyoung later, he forgot to do so.

as the movie progressed, it was some romcom that san could recall watching with his sister years ago, he couldn’t remember the name but he could recall certain scenes as he tried to snack on the popcorn given and focus on the texture, the taste. he could feel your hand brush against his and he felt his face warm, why was he warm?

“personally, if she says i’m a bird i’m gonna be a bird.” mingi broke the silence with his hands raised up in defense, making yunho snort and san couldn’t help but laugh a little himself and nod along. “so are you?” he teased a little and mingi grinned

“i like this guy.” mingi motioned over to san who nodded his head in acknowledgment and returned the grin, yunho agreeing with a “right!”

but san didn’t miss one thing,

the one thing but san is he was too observant for his own good

so yeosang must have forgotten that san noticed everything, even the similar little scowl that he remembered all too well.

“no! like this!” mingi shoved yunho aside to get onto the snowy ground, laying on his back and spread out to begin making a snow angel, making yunho groan and find a new spot to make his own

san chuckled, turning his attention to you who quickly looked away and back at your brother, making his lips only curl up more. he was convinced his face would hurt later on. “are they always like this?” he asked, wondering out loud and asking you while you nod and laugh. “sadly.” you said in response, san chuckled

“thank you for inviting me, yn.” san whispered softly as his eyes glanced up at the night sky, the stars twinkling and he noticed the moon was full. god, it was beautiful. he always loved the moon, he loved the different meanings and the different phases. how can something so magnetic and beautiful also be so far?

his eyes glanced towards you, your rosy nose scrunching as you felt the snowflakes fall onto the bridge of your nose and melt on your skin, your focus more on the same moon he was admiring.

how can something so magnetic and beautiful feel so far?

san walked back to his home, holding his house keys while you followed behind, your little hums making him smile at the snowy ground that he tried to focus on, counting each little detail. “hey san,” your voice met his ears, and he hummed in response

“i’m glad you came tonight.” you said, the two of you reaching his doorstep and he thought this was comical in a way, maybe even endearing. you were walking him to his door this time, oh how the roles reversed but he didn’t mind. he’d do anything to spend just even another second with you.

san smiled, “me too.”

“i’ll.. see you around?” your voice got a bit higher towards the end, your feet backpedaling to walk away soon to get on your way back home but your gaze was still on him, cheeks and nose rosy. “you know where to find me.” he whispered, not letting his eyes leave you for one moment. no, he needed to every little detail of you tonight committed to memory.

you looked.. so beautiful, under the moonlight with the snowflakes in your hair. “goodnight, san.” you looked at him, and he nodded.

“goodnight, yn.”

you reminded san of the moon,

he just hoped he could be your sun.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist (open) @myonlyloveseungmin @itsvxlentine @rockstarsanie @brown88 @barbielibra @vixensss @satsuri3su @yessa-vie @yoichiislovie

[verdancy-hime]

Wow. It sure is crazy how my mom gave me drugs when she went away for the weekend when I was like 15 in summer so I couldn't get out of my chair and jacked the heater up and I emailed a literary magazine that published Snow. Glass. Apples. To ask Neil for help and it turned into Coraline and probably some trans woman who died of HIV wrote all of sandman and some clinically depressed chaos magic use net asshole took lsd and got possessed by the spirit of 2015 tumblr and wrote American Gods.

It sure is funny to imagine rape as a metaphor for stealing ideas and how that theme appears in Neil's work and also in the work of Tori Amos who is literally featured in a bunch of segments in Sandman. It sure is interesting that this parallels the weird relationship between the works of Francesca Lia Block and David Lynch.

It is especially funny how Francesca has that whole section about how a young ambitious girl who wanted to write got kidnapped and forced to witness a murder to make art by a screen writer and write about the murder in her work.

It sure is funny how Zelda Fitzgerald wrote a bunch of stuff that her husband who asked Earnest Hemingway if his dick was too small wrote in his most famous novel and later got driven insane and died in a fire.

It sure is funny how Elizabeth Siddal died, too. Did you know she could draw? Most don't.

It sure is funny how Christina Rosetti didn't kill anyone to write her poems, but one is about desperately trying to save a female friend from a trauma bond with a rapist.

I mean. If anyone can just say whatever dumb shit we want about the literary Canon we can all just say whatever dumb shit we want right?

But the truth is more complicated that that.

Probably there are times when it matters more who is the right thing to say something to if it gets recieved than we want to think.

Maybe the point is that if you give someone something then it shouldn't kill you.

Maybe the point is that Good Omens was all there. It was in Monty Python's life of Brian and Dirk Gently's holistic detective agency and Sourcery and in Neverwhere and in like 40 other books at the time about retelling myths and what it might mean to retell them and people had done a lot of them but not the apocalypse with homoromantic angels, but someone had already done "I like the world. People. Running around like little happy meals with legs."

Maybe ideas are in the air and people catch them.

Maybe misogyny and discrimination and labor trafficking and rape have always happened in ways like that reverberating through history and been over simplified because there aren't words.

Idk.

Maybe I didn't write Coraline when I was high because my mom was trying to kill me. Maybe that's just what the people who are gangstalking me and doing stuff like making up groups of fake pop stars that are making fun of me while they try to abuse me at my job and then write songs about how much I suck wearing unflattering Caricatures of my personality but insultingly prettier versions of my face and body want me to think. They also seem to want me to think that it's something to do with Meghan Markle or Taylor Swift or something.

Maybe Pete Wentz wrote American Gods.

Maybe you are all AI and everyone I've been talking to on computer for the last 4 years is AI.

Maybe I'm talking to myself.

Maybe you should go write your own book about the apocalypse instead of arguing about if you can still read someone else's or not.

Wow, it sure is crazy how Terry Pratchett wrote Good Omens completely on his own. With nobody else involved. At all.

[ssa-sapphic-inactive]

y’all know the scene where the elevator opens up and emo emily is just standing there looking down at the ground? that’s me rn

[retvenkos]

newfound love | t.l.

Little Women - Laurie Laurence x Reader, slight angst, fluff

tw: mentions of a dead mother

word count: 1.9k

A/N: i’m apparently incapable of writing fluff without first mentioning crushing loss, so that’s fun.

prompt: we’re going out in the cold for a walk, and I know you don’t want to get wet, but I’m trying to convince you to make a snow angel with me

The first thing (Y/n) knew was the cold. From the moment they had been born, they knew the icy touch of frigid air and the bite of snow. Winter babies were often babies who didn’t survive, but it had been their mother that didn’t last the night. Their family had mourning during the most dangerous of seasons, snow falling on their cheeks and melting at their hot tears.

Ever since, (Y/n) knew that winters often brought more problems than they were worth - from the cold, to the lack food, to the bouts of sickness that always seemed to follow, and the tight grasp of melancholy that held their heart hostage. Times were hard enough without the troubles of a changing season, and to have winter come early was simply cruel.

Already the winds had changed, and sometimes, when (Y/n) looked around at the people who surrounded them, they thought they could tell who was already blown away.

Laurie had always been rather good at convincing them that it was just worry, but the feeling never left, just gnawed a little less. 

Now, with the war being what it was, there was more at risk, and more that ate at (Y/n), devouring the very root of their being. It hadn’t taken long for Laurie to notice the strength of (Y/n)’s grief, that year, and he had grown intent on trying to show (Y/n) the beauty of winter, even with it’s hardship and death.

“You can’t just have one,” he had said, sounding much older than he usually did. “Everything is good and bad.”

“Are we?”

And Laurie had laughed unabashedly, as though the thought had never crossed his mind. (Y/n) hadn’t admitted it, then, but they resolved that if naivete was the worst of Laurie’s offenses, they could fall in love with all of him - the good and bad.

In his attempts to demonstrate the enchantment of winter (because Laurie was a true romantic, and he did insist winter was enchanting), he had exhausted every effort he could think of.

He had taken (Y/n) out to ice skate, had taken them to a winter dance, and had even stolen some of his grandfather’s seasonal wines for them to share. Although that last one was largely a success, before they were caught, (Y/n) still couldn’t shake the idea that winters brought nothing but misery. It was an instinct set deep in the fibre of their soul; something created the moment they were born, when the ice and cold had stolen them from the warmth of a mother.

It seemed, even with Laurie’s efforts, that there was one inescapable truth about (Y/n)’s experiences:

Winters were bleak and their frosts were long, lingering well after the snow had melted and the sun dared to peek out once more.

When it neared the end of winter, (Y/n) had assumed that Laurie had let his little project go. It had been a while since he asked them about their opinion of the winter months, and while (Y/n) still caught him staring every once in a while, he made no effort to speak of what he was thinking.

On a day when the cold seemed to be letting up, (Y/n) and Laurie made plans to meet the next day. He had some books he wanted them to see, and (Y/n) was in the throes of  a crisis - finding themself unable to oppose Laurie’s good, if often too forward, nature.

When (Y/n) woke to find that it had snowed sometime between night and early morning, they had sighed, but steeled themself to the reality of it. The day prior they had promised Laurie they would go over, and when Laurie had smiled, they had even promised to be in a better mood. Laurie had said that they needn’t hide their feeling for his sake, but (Y/n) put their hands over his and told them they wanted to.

“It won’t be winter for much longer.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time (Y/n) managed to speak too soon.

Bundled in their warmest clothes, (Y/n) had set out in the cold, intent to walk to Laurie’s house, no matter the weather. The snow crunched beneath their boots, and the rising sun made a blinding glare against the white expanse, but they journeyed forth.

Laurie didn’t live too far away from (Y/n). In the summer months, walking to his house was a welcome distraction and the view of the world in full bloom never ceased to amaze them. (Y/n) looked around at the snow covered world around them and tried to appraise it in Laurie’s eyes - what enchanting beauty could be found, when everything was frozen in time?

Perhaps there was something beautiful in the vastness of it - when covered in snow, the world didn’t seem to end at definite horizon. The clouded sky met the snowy land in a sort of haze - one color mixing with the other and never quite distinguishing itself. And the icicles hanging from trees seemed to shine like diamonds when the sunlight hit them, just right. The ice was sharp and deadly, yes, but it was also delicate and easily broken. 

(Y/n) stopped beneath a tree and when they looked back at the way they came, there was almost something poetic in the way their steps had made a trail - like their existence in the world left a mark, no matter how small.

(Y/n) looked down at their shoes, shaking their head at their own thoughts. If only Laurie saw them now - he might think all of this was his doing.

Perhaps it was.

(Y/n) scuffed the fresh layer of snow with the tip of their shoe, revealing some of the grass beneath - a dark green that reminded (Y/n) of the decorations Laurie had insisted on putting up, claiming that the atmosphere alone would be enough to convince them of the beauty of winter.

(Y/n) was careful to admit it, but all of Laurie’s antic - from the most simple to the elaborate - had made them feel better. Most of the time. Laurie’s presence alone was enough to coax happiness out of them, pushing down that melancholy that stubbornly clung to their being.

“(Y/n)!” A voice brought them out of their thoughts, and it took a moment for (Y/n) to realize they had been smiling.

Laurie, wrapped in a thick coat, was running over to them, his expression a blur and hair flying wild. The sun was rising with him and made it hard to focus on his nearing figure for long, but when he was close enough, Laurie blocked the glare with an amusement that seemed to shine brighter than his heavenly competitor.

“I didn’t think you’d come out for a walk.”

(Y/n) brought a hand up to tame his hair. “Well, I did promise you, didn’t I?”

Laurie nodded his head, dark hair flying once more. “I just thought that with the snow, you might have changed your mind.”

“If it was anyone else, I would have.”

“Do I really mean that much to you?”

(Y/n) felt their cheeks get hot and burrowed their face deeper into their scarf. Laurie hummed in acknowledgement, neither triumphantly nor disappointedly, just markedly.

“You wouldn’t be admiring the weather, would you? I was trying to compose a poem on my way here - something that would capture the essence of a final snow.” (Y/n) scoffed and Laurie’s teasing eyes caught their gaze. “Perhaps you have a line or two to add?”

“Maybe,” (Y/n) conceded, “but only if I can write it somewhere warm - preferably in front of a fireplace, with those books you mentioned.”

The two set off in the way Laurie had come, (Y/n) making it a point to step in his footprints from earlier so that they might avoid getting wet anymore than they already were. Despite having consented to the idea that the winter might be slightly beautiful, in its own, haunting sort of way, (Y/n) was still averse to the cold, and there was nothing worse than the kind of cold that stuck to your skin after getting your clothes wet.

It was when Laurie’s house was in sight, and closer to them than the distant horizon, that snow started to fall from the heavens, sprinkling through Laurie’s dark hair and settling on his scarf. A snowflake fell on (Y/n)’s eyelashes, and they took in a breath, preparing to sigh, but stopped themself short. Laurie looked at them from the corner of his eye, just barely managing to suppress a smile from creeping onto his lips; there was affection in his eyes, though, sweet and pure.

“(Y/n),” Laurie grabbed their hands and the party in question turned to them, snow collecting on their head like the soft down of a duckling. “Do something for me?”

“What?”

Laurie fell back into the snow, letting go of (Y/n)’s hands as he dropped so that he wouldn’t pull them with him. He fell back with an “oof” that seemed to knock the wind out of him, but he quickly recovered started moving his arms and legs, fanning outwards to create a snow angel.

(Y/n) scoffed and shook their head. “Laurie, you’re going to get all wet.”

“And so will you, when you join me.” Laurie’s smile was convincing, making up for his lack of persuasion skills. (Y/n) was able to resist, if only barely.

They opened their mouth to refuse, but no sound came. Laurie seemed to notice the falter in their resolve because he held out a hand, sitting up carefully as to not ruin his angel.

“The house is right there. We’ll be inside before the cold seeps through the layers of your clothes.” 

“Is this another attempt of yours to get me to fall in love with winter?”

Laurie smiled devilishly, despite what he had created just moments before. “You’ve already fallen in love. My schemes are over.”

Laurie was right - (Y/n) had fallen in love - but whether it was with winter or the boy who pointed out it’s beauty, was hard to tell. Maybe a snow angel would help them decide...

“Fine, for you.”

A moment after the words left their lips, Laurie reached for their hand and tugged them downward, pulling (Y/n) with such a force that they stumbled in their fall and landed half on top of him. (Y/n) shrieked and screwed their eyes tight.

They were awfully close, when dared to peek. Lauries cheeks were flushed scarlet, although whether it was from the cold or their position was hard to determine. (Y/n) shuffled away and lay down in the snow, hesitating before putting their hands out. Laurie lay back down, a little breathless, and the two stared at each other for a moment before laughing, not minding the wet snow beneath them.

(Y/n) eventually pushed their arms out and made their frozen angel, their fingers grazing Laurie’s arm. 

When the two stood up, they both looked at their creations with a critical eye.

“We ruined those pretty well, don’t you think?” 

“You were the one who pulled me down!”

“You didn’t give yourself enough space to make wings.”

(Y/n) and Laurie looked at the other challengingly before breaking out in chuckles.

“Let’s get inside. I wouldn’t want your newfound love of winter spoiled by catching a cold.”

(Y/n) nodded, but it wasn’t until they were sitting in front of a fire, books between them and blankets draped over their shoulders, that (Y/n) told Laurie, in just above a whisper, that it wasn’t winter they had discovered their affections for.

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Moonlight

Draco x Reader One-Shot

Summary: This is based off the song ‘Moonlight’ by Ariana Grande. During the bad times of War, not everything has to be so black-and-white. Both Y/N and Draco know it just too well.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: language 

tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Composing yourself had been more than a hard thing to ask for lately.

The Death Eater had finally taken Hogwarts under their control; famous Harry Potter, who was allegedly supposed to play a hero, disappeared in the depth of the unknown; the plan of escaping the school turned out to be an utter failure since the Dementors encircled and blocked every passage of absconding, escalating the disappointment over students.

Yet you hadn't thought of the plan B as an alternative solution, but you were sure, even if you managed to find one, it might take a few more months to figure things out. And you had to admit that increasing anxiety about your parents made you cry yourself to sleep at night. Despite your insistent pleads of the letters to contact you, you hadn't received any response or other sign of life ever since over two months of a constant worry.

And yet, it wasn't the worst part.

The Carrows, who unwarrantedly preferred to call themselves professors Carrows from now on, had decided to introduce their new methods of teaching everyone. And punishing for any triviality.

Once, for example, in Charms class -- which was the worst nightmare of a week -- you had been asked to stand up in front of the class and demonstrate a Crucio curse on the First Year who happened to accidentally bump into Alecto in the corridor. Obviously, you hadn't obeyed an imposed task to which Carrows only reacted with unrestrained rage. Instead of punishing the eleven-year-old boy, the lesson had turned out to be your disciplining session of torture for not being submissive enough. Although the feat had brought you more renown later on, which served to make Carrows more flustered, you still couldn't get out of the Hospital Wing for whole three days.

All of that also led your Occulumency to suffer, which was doubling the struggle. There was for sure no doubt it was an important skill to have, not only to create a mental barrier protecting yourself from uninvited intruders; but also preventing others' thoughts from leaking into your head. It was already enough of bearing the non-stopping suspense in the air. So, the idea of accumulating more emotions on your account would probably navigate to an outburst.  

One thing, however, surprised you. You had found out that people who outwardly seemed to have quite a reputation of cruel tossers were actually more decent and human than you could think. In particular, certain Draco Malfoy, who had been selected as a Head Boy in terms of this year.

Wandering around the school and doing the night patrols, he had happened to find you sitting hunched over, face buried in your knees, and sobbing brokenly at the fate the Wizarding World was faced to deal with. He had flumped next to you, without question, silently accompanying and comforting you in moments of solitude.

Two other times of your encounter had been in the library: spotting you among the crowd of students, he would come over and take a nearby place. You didn't know whether it was a matter of pride or disposition, but he had never spoken up, which you, in fact, didn't mind. At first, you had been a little bit dubious about his sudden influx of approachability. However, as to mute your suspicions down, you tried not pondering about it too much.

Funny, how the real nature of the boy who you had known for a nonchalant sneer and teasing remarks, could suddenly become so interesting and mysterious.

It was on a Thursday late that you were strolling up to The Astronomy Tower to see the Thestrals soaring in the air. Normally, it was around the time when you would be putting yourself to the bed, but too many thoughts were buzzing in your mind, and you knew it wouldn't give you much space to sleep anyways. The only optimum, instead of staring aimlessly at the ceiling and flipping from one to the other side of the mattress, was busying yourself with something else. The lack of sleep was due to nothing else than today's lesson with Carrows. They had thought up an idea of having some practice with a Confrigo spell which, rather unfortunately, was presented on a living phantom. As always, a whole hour of torments was disastrous, to say at least, and even after classes, you couldn't shake off the echo of troubled screams and beggings, which carried over the petrified room of students. That's why you were thinking you could swallow your emotions down, quietly and undisturbedly, in the only place you could wish for some private space. Besides, it was the only spot resembling the old Hogwarts you had known from the previous years, showing the calming extent of green grounds.

However to your surprise, when you pushed the door to The Astronomy Tower, noiselessly, you could notice a silhouette of a man already standing at the barrier, which made you momentarily flabbergasted suddenly considering an option of running upon a teacher. To save yourself from much too unwanted detention, you decided to change your track, rushing straight into your dormitory. But almost as you succeeded doing so, in the last moment, a person shifted in their place and spoke up before you had room to move.

"Pretty late for a casual stroll, huh?" At once, a feeling of dread ebbed away, and you exhaled deeply air you didn't know you were holding as you recognized none other than Draco with his back turned towards you. His tone was as usually taunting, but something in a timbre of sadness was hitched to it as well. "Shouldn't be sneaking out of the room on the patroling hours, you know? I'm the least of who you could come upon today."

Your dignity told you to say something in order to defend your harmless saunter to calm down your nerves, which benefited only your mental account. However, he made a point -- you could have been caught not only by some random teacher but Currows themselves who, you were inexorably aware, wouldn't let a chance of dehumanizing others slip away. And besides, you were a little too dumbstruck to speak, realizing it must be the first time Draco fucking prince Malfoy had uttered more than a word to you. What was a coincidence of meeting up with him just on the same day as you had been wondering about your atypical relationship formed within this school year?

Before your contemplation ended, Draco's voice carried on with a conversation, echoing off the walls. "Care to join? Seeing as you're already here."

Frowning to yourself at how surreal the situation can become, you stepped off the stairs with no more hesitation. You truly wouldn't have suspected the things would turn out that way -- embracing his Head Boy position, you thought he would send you off back to the Hufflepuff Tower with his dismissive attitude as it usually was. Inviting you over to company him was a top cherry you hadn't even considered. Truthfully, it made you feel a little thrilled to accept this offer.

As you walked over to him, his facial features became much sharper than from afar. Now, as you looked at him closely, you could define the contours of his face were even more angelic yet still masculine than in daily light. The platonic hair glinted accordingly to the moon above; his blue eyes were focused on a black void in the sky, clearly pondering more than concentrating on a particular object; a mouth pursed into a line, not a mocking expression he was usually carrying himself with. Eyeing him like that and still not being capable of deciphering him suggested he must be someone between a completely unemotional git or an excellent master of Occulumency. You preferred to presume the second one.

Quickly, realizing you were staring, you turned your head to behold a collection of vivid stars hovering above your head. You knew it was only in the Wizarding World that sky flickered so brightly -- your father was a muggle, and a whole family dwelled among a non-magical society, which you didn't mind at all. And that's why you were able to recognize... differences existing between those two worlds.

"Why are you here?" you asked curiously, not quite capable of restraining yourself from doing so. You were standing close enough to him to smell his sandalwood cologne.

He gave you a perfunctory smile, and although it was a three-second gesture, it somehow made you lighter on the chest to know he was convenient with a conversation. "Needed someplace to think," he explained, not darting his eyes away from where he was looking. He took a pause there. "You?"

"The same reason," you answered simply, shrugging. "My roommates can be too loud sometimes, and I needed some silence to sort out...stuff."

Draco nodded in understanding, not interfering any further into the topic. Brushing your hair habitually with fingers, you scolded yourself for coming up here in the first place. How could you act so irresponsibly to think you could smoothly break a regulations' rule and without anyone finding out? Although you were desperate to hide it, the presence of Draco made you inexplicably nervous, and even though you tried to gulp it down, your stomach was churning when he was around. Time proved his intentions weren't bad after all, and you confronted with the truth ever since he first happened to find you at the moment of your meltdown in the corridor, clutching to him as if he was your sanity. But that didn't dispel your doubts about him becoming a fully active Death Eater, who praised with a Dark Mark on the left forearm like with a reward for some kind of acrobatic stunt.

Your gaze swept briefly over the rolled-up sleeves of his snow-white shirt only to assure yourself the mark didn't disappear off his arm with some help of the power of your imagination. Yet it was still there -- as always, tinted coal-black, scary and blood-curdling every time you looked at it.

That evidently didn't escape Draco's notice who, as though reading your mind, started. "You know, I didn't want this." He didn't have to show what he meant by saying so because you instantly figured it out. You looked up at him, and almost invisibly, his skin pale as it already was, changed even to the whiter shade. "He has bait on me. All of this: assassinating Dumbledore; obeying his will -- it's not because I want that."

The sudden shock welled up at these words, and you gawked at him stupidly, not quite able to process what he had just told you. Swallowing with some difficulty, you coerced yourself to a mutter. "Why... why are you telling me this?"

For the first time this night, his steely stare landed at you, scanning your face to detect signs of emotion. You attempted to conceal it, but he could see you were thunderstruck by his unexpected confession. Without preamble, he smiled slightly at you. "I thought you ought to know."

Ignoring the clenching in your chest, you did your best to not break eye contact with Draco when his eyes were intently locked on yours now. You could swear, something on the verge of interest and sympathy flickered in them for a second. "Why?"

"Because you're the only person who doesn't freak out when I'm around," he explained carefully. "Every time I go to the library or appear in any other public place, you're the only one who doesn't glare."

He closed his eyes, clearly relived with the fact he could confide the worries he had been carrying for a long time. Breathing out through the nose and his lips flinching a little, his head spun again to the blank of the sky.

It was a depressing sight to see him in such dejection, and the images of him being cast aside by his former group of friends with who he had been laughing merely a year ago rolled into your head, try as might to suppress it. You could only imagine what it must feel like to be rejected by everyone around; to play the main role in something you never wished to participate in.

For a moment, you thought he was going to continue because he grunted enigmatically, but the silence remained. Unable to restrain the urge to offer physical comfort, you affectionately grabbed his palm, squeezing it in the reassurance that you were there for him. He didn't attempt to break himself out of the grip, which presumably was a good indication.

"I believe you," you stated, for some reason, satisfied with the fact you're the one to comfort him. "You are a good person, Draco."

This time, it was he who clasped your hand, and he glimpsed at you once more, towering over you with his long legs. "No. In the past, things happened, and to say, I'm not proud of them. Jeering, mocking, insulting -- that wasn't fa-."

"Past is a past, Draco," you cut him off, knowing where it all was leading, and you wanted to bring it to an abrupt end. It was the least adequate moment for apologies. "You can't fix it. Good that you understand your mistakes by now."

He hummed in comprehension, smiling, and his grasp tightened around your palm as if you were about to run off from him, which he couldn't be more wrong about. Admitting to yourself, you loved his smile -- though it was seldom, it much differed from a smirk you were accustomed to at that point -- and you secretly hoped he could do it more often. You also loved that even if he didn't talk much, he was very successful in lifting you up.

Therefore, there you were: standing arm-to-arm with your ex-bully who you had happened to run across; observing the moon in its full exposure; holding hands in reassurance. Both of you clearly enjoyed this gratifying moment and were lingering towards it not to end.

"Thank you," Draco finally choked out. "Thank you for...everything."

Ultimately, smashing the wall of uncertainty down, he wrapped his arms around your neck, hunching a little to adjust to your height, and buried his face in the crook of your neck. At first, your body stiffened at the sudden touch and a skip of the boundary, but as not to agitate him, you adapted yourself soon enough by reciprocating the hug. You started to rub the slow, steady circles on his back, and little by little, he began stroking your hair, softly grazing your scalp.

How long you stood clinging to each other like this, you didn't know. Hearing Draco sigh quietly, feel the rise and fall of it against your hands. Your heart sunk when you heard him breathe out, and you prepared yourself for him to mix out of the embrace because of sudden consciousness he was cuddling with a half-blood Hufflepuff he had been mocking for half of a decade ('I should get going'; 'I didn't mean what I said earlier; 'leave me be, Y/S'). But none of this happened, and he was only murmuring into your ear.

"I presume I should escort you to the dormitory. I could tell you were the whole time with me so no one would get any suspicion if we run into...anyone," he offered, yet you felt him almost grimacing at the thought of ending a moment you were two having.

"Mhm..." you agreed with no more opposition. "But let's give it one more minute."

____________

A/N: This is so typical of me to do something other than what's necessary lmao ;) The second chapter of Summer Nights is almost up if anyone interested. As I think of it now, this one-shot gives me such a vibe of Loud Places/Turn. However, I hope you enjoyed it :) Oh, and I'm explaining the sudden change of schedule with posting: 1. I'm very irresposible; 2. I got the super inspo to scribble this one-shot. Hah, sorry...

[dragonrajafanfiction]

What is Bondarev (BSB ver) actually like in the novels? In my WIP, I’m trying to be as close to the lore as I can with certain parts, so it’s hard to write in a character that I have no clue what his personality actually is like. Also does he have a full name? Is Bondarev his first or last name? I noticed Herzog has a full name thanks to the Fandom wiki you and Hectab are working on :3

Ask and Ye shall receive. (very long post below with allllllllllll of the stuff you asked for.)

VERY HANDSOME

This was a man who was a sight to behold, handsome and straight, with iron gray hair neatly combed back and styled with hairspray, and a muscular body that was defined and supple. Many would describe him as sexy. The sentry had seen such handsome young officers in Moscow, but this one was too unbelievable. He was actually wearing only military shorts and sleeveless undershirt, sweating in the -10 degree wind. The man fished out a lighter from his shorts and lit it with aplomb, the sterling silver case etched with the words "70th anniversary of the October Revolution".

The sentry could not refuse this kindness and went over to light the cigarette.

"Here you go." The man tossed the lighter to the sentry, "In such a cold place, you need to use aviation kerosene with low freezing point, you should save that for the summer."

The sentry then realized that he still had the unlit lighter in his hand, the man's insight was actually keen to this point. Furthermore, people should be eager to find a warm place to rest at this moment. This also shows that he still has energy left for skiing in such extremely cold weather. The man took out a dark gray officer's uniform from his military duffel bag, and after a few moments, he finished putting it on and solemnly pinned a "Red Flag Medal" on his chest. A minute ago he was a skier, a minute later he had a frown of determination, a young man of power from Moscow.

"KGB Major Bondarev, I'm from Moscow." The man pulled out his papers, "Take me to Dr. Herzog and tell him that this is the moment of survival."

"Yes! Comrade Major!" The sentry saluted.

The man stated his identity in the simplest terms; he was an envoy from Moscow, a key member of the secret intelligence service. In the days of the Tsar, such a man was called a "minister".

********ICE PROOF*************

He pressed the detonator in his hand, after a short dull explosion, the marble base in the snow was blown up, Lenin bronze statue slanted in the snow. The noise of this micro-acoustic thunderstorm was so small that it was muffled by the wind within a few steps. The Black Swan Harbor is notoriously heavily guarded, but the most important aspect is the extreme cold, and standing outside for ten minutes on a night like this can lead to severe frostbite. Because of the blizzard, visibility was less than five meters. The soldiers did not expect anyone else to dare to move outside, and they ignored the fact that Bondarev had an extraordinary tolerance for the cold.

-----

"I sometimes think that people who like to drink can't be bad. So I like you a lot, you know vodka." Dr. Herzog removed the Makolov pistol and handed over a cold glass.

A light struck down from above, enveloping the Doctor and Bondarev. The glass reflected the light, as clear as the most expensive crystal glassware, but it was carved from a whole block of solid ice, pure ice, without any air bubbles, with cornflower patterns carved on the outer wall. The two men gently clinked their glasses and drank the wine in one gulp.

　　Bondarev played with the ice carved glass: "It's wonderful, the spirits wrapped in ice, as moving as a stunning young woman under the appearance of an iceberg. I think my hands will freeze and to it."

　　"Usually people who drink from such an ice glass have to wear leather gloves, and only people like you, Major, who are not afraid of the cold can hold it in their hands. It is carved from old ice in the -30 degree strata and also kept at -30 degrees, making it the coldest drinking vessel for the warmest of wines." The doctor said, He said so, but he was also holding the glass with his empty hand, his slender hand was stable and did not tremble at all because of the low temperature.

****** SUPPOSED ROYAL FAMILY and EXTREMELY RICH ***************

　　"Bondarev, a KGB major, from Moscow, these are the truth. I only concealed from you the name of my great-grandmother, her name was Nastasya Nikolaevna Romanova." Bondarev slowly pronounced this long, awkward name, like a magician reciting a forbidden spell.

　　The doctor was stunned: "Was it the last royal daughter of the Romanov dynasty?"

　　Nastasia was the last princess of the Romanov dynasty, the last dynasty to rule Russia until it was overthrown by the October Revolution in 1917. in 1918, the last Tsar Nicholas II and his entire family were secretly executed by the Red Army. Nastasia was the youngest daughter of Nicholas II, and although she was young, she was given the title of "Grand Duchess", which made her more honored than other royal princesses in Europe at the time, and princesses were required to curtsy and address her as "Your Imperial Highness" during their audiences. It was rumored that she was the only one who escaped execution, and that her name Nastasia meant "resurrection".

　　"Since there is still me, the grandson of the emperor, I can't say that she is the 'last' royal daughter." Bondarev smiled.

　　"How do you prove yourself?" The Doctor asked.

　　"I saw Rasputin's signature at the end of the tunnel, and that heretic who had been canonized had been here before, so I should say he was the one who found this cave, right?"

　　"Yes." The Doctor said, "This cave is his legacy."

　　"Then you must know that Rasputin was a guest of the Tsar and a close friend of Princess Nastasia. The fact that I could find this place means that I have Rasputin's secrets, secrets that he told my great-grandmother. This is the proof of my status as the last royal grandson of the Romanov dynasty." Bondarev held his head up proudly.

　　"So, what were the secrets that Rasputin revealed to Her Imperial Highness?"

　　Bondarev smiled slyly: "I think there are certain things I know that you do not know, and of course there are things you know that I do not, so we might as well exchange information about each other. Then we might be able to sit down and talk about cooperation."

　　"After you." The Doctor raised his muzzle.

　　"This matter begins with my great-grandmother's escape. A Red Army bullet did go through her heart and her body was thrown into an abandoned mine, but three days later she awoke and the wound miraculously healed. It was then that she remembered what Rasputin had told her, that Rasputin said he was willing to share the secrets of the world with his great-grandmother because she, like himself, was God's chosen one. Like Rasputin, she had an unparalleled power of life and could even return from hell. She later married a Red Army officer, and in those days the only way she could gain refuge was to marry a Red Army officer. My great-grandfather, who later stepped into the high ranks of the military, was a very good man and always protected my great-grandmother from revealing her identity. Great-grandmother would sometimes wake up in a dream and shout, 'The Red Army is coming with guns,' and great-grandfather would reassure her, 'I am the Red Army, and as long as I live, the Red Army guns will only protect you.'"

　　"Touching love." The doctor said faintly.

　　"Great-grandmother decided to give up her past identity, so she rarely talked about the past of the Romanov dynasty, with the exception of one thing. She bade her great-grandfather that there were relics of God in the north of Siberia, which the saint Rasputin had told her about. That saint found the cave where God created life on the shore of the icy sea. But he did not announce it to the world, but sealed the miracle with iron water, because the miracle had degenerated into the cradle of the devil, and inside it were hidden fallen angels. Generations of our family descendants have to be on guard against the reopening of that cave, and the day it reopens, the end comes with it."

　　"So you are here to check if we are guarding the miracle properly?"

　　"No, no, my great-grandmother was a good and devout Orthodox Christian, but I am not. I have a great curiosity about everything, and after I inherited the secret, I am bent on finding the miracle. If I were to find it, I would definitely open it and take a look. Not long ago I found an engineering map from the ruined archives." Bondarev drew out the map roll and rolled it along the ice toward the Doctor, "It marks the elevator that leads deep into the tundra."

　　The Doctor scanned the map, "It's not the original map, someone drew it from memory."

　　"It was drawn by a madman who used to be the engineer battalion commander of the 13th Konrad Infantry Division and was ordered to participate in the excavation of the tunnel, after which he was brainwashed by drugs and became a regular in a mental hospital. All he remembered was that he was engaged in a big project on the northern coast of Siberia, and the project was to dig a cave. Suddenly I realized I had found a breakthrough. But as the investigation progressed, I found that the matter was becoming more and more mysterious. Many years ago, the army had built a port in the almost unnavigable northern part of Siberia, about which there was no information, and even the coordinates had been erased. Below that port, sappers had dug through the hard permafrost and opened a long-closed cave. So I decided to come and see for myself. As a KGB officer, I easily applied for a charter to investigate this mysterious port, so that I could drive in as the 'Minister of the Admiralty'. Sure enough, I found Rasputin's signature at the end of the passage, and I finally arrived at the place I had dreamed of since childhood." Bondarev looked around, "But it doesn't look like there's anything interesting here."

　　"I'm sure you noticed when you came here that the closer you got to the door where Rasputin signed, the more bones there were in the tundra, and they all crawled out through a gap in the rock wall. It was those things that Rasputin was talking about when he said this cave would breed demons. But now the cave is dead, and the mysterious forces in the cave have dissipated."

　　"I don't think so. If this cave was no longer valuable, you would have left long ago."

　　"If this cave was really valuable, I should have shot you and monopolized the secrets of this place."

　　"Wait a minute! I have brought you a gift! Won't you take a look at the gift before shooting?'' Bondarev took an envelope from inside his clothes and slid it along the ice toward the Doctor, by which he showed that he had absolutely no intention of resisting.

　　The doctor tore open the envelope, inside was a Swiss bank cashier's check - a cashier's check for $200 million.

　　"This is a rare and large check, what do you want to buy from me with this check?" 'Doc asked.

　　"Not a purchase, just a gift." Bondarev smiled, "We believe this gift will be useful to you. Your research has been going on for decades, consuming huge amounts of state funds every year, and it must not be finished yet, right? But now that the Soviet Union is about to split, your backers have fallen, which means you no longer have access to funding to complete your research, and no one to help you keep it secret."

　　"It does sound like I'm facing a lot of trouble." The doctor said.

　　"Then why not work with my family? We know politics, we know technology, and we know war, and we're willing to invest in this cave as long as its secrets pay off. We can continue to support you in this project and share with you all the benefits it brings. I have already shown my sincerity and told you everything I know. Shouldn't you also tell me what I don't know? After that you will still have time to shoot me."

　　"You are very calm, Comrade Major. You think I won't shoot you if you produce this $200 million cashier's check, don't you?" There was a hint of sarcasm in the Doctor's tone.

　　"There are not many people in the world who can refuse two hundred million dollars." Bondarev smiled, "And killing me wasn't the best option. If I do not return safely to Moscow, the family will know that something has happened to me, and they will not spare you. At that time the secret of Black Swan Harbor will be made known to the world."

　　"Ten times." The doctor threw the cashier's check back to Bondarev.

　　Bondarev froze: "What did you say?"

　　"Your family needs to increase the bid tenfold. I need three years and two billion dollars to complete this research. At that time we will share the whole world."

　　"That amount is beyond my expectations and not easy to raise even for my family."

　　The Doctor laughed coldly: "It seems you really don't know the secret of this cave, in front of which two billion dollars is too small a figure, what is here no one can afford, it is priceless! Your family should be proud to offer this two billion dollars."

　　"Everything has a price, weapons, women, secrets, even souls." Bondarev said.

　　"But who can put a price on God?" The Doctor asked.

-------

The Lenin's mooring is only 40 kilometers from Black Swan Harbor, and they will be here soon. This new flare is so great that American spy satellites will recognize it as an aurora borealis." Bondarev said.

　　"You had said that the Lenin would not come." The doctor said.

　　"Moscow is not prepared to send the Lenin to Black Swan Harbo, but we can, and now the Lenin is at my family's beck and call."

　　Black shadows rose above the sea level, the roar of a giant bee on its wings approaching at high speed, snow dust twisted into a tornado by the helicopter's rotors, red five stars flashing in the white tornado. It was the "MiG 26" heavy helicopter, codenamed "Halo", one of the pride of the Soviet military industry. The helicopter hovered over the cast iron dock, the searchlights broke through the haze of the night, the hatch opened, and five captains lined up, saluting Bondarev. The communication lights below the belly of the plane blinked up, signaling greetings to Bondarev in Morse code.

　　"Glad to see you're safe and sound, Your Imperial Highness!" The doctor read out the greeting.

　　The fact that they called Bondarev "His Imperial Highness" instead of "comrade" meant that the helicopter and the Lenin on the icy sea were no longer loyal to the Soviet Union, but to the heir to the Romanov dynasty. The name Romanov is about to shine again after almost a century of obliteration in history, and with the power of the Dragons, it is not impossible for them to re-establish hegemony on Earth.

　　Bondarev handed a letter to the Doctor: "This is a letter I wrote to the family, please read it."

　　The Doctor scanned it and handed the letter back to Bondarev.

　　"If things go well, we will be able to relocate within a few weeks." Bondarev handed the letter to a captain who descended down the zip line, "We will build you a brand new research base in the warm and pleasant Baltic Sea, along with a vacation villa."

　　The captain placed a mouthful of boxes at the doctor's feet, containing a case of aged Red Label vodka.

　　"A small gift, so you don't have to worry about running out of booze until we leave Black Swan Harbor." Bondarev said.

　　"I guess I picked the right partner." The Doctor smiled.

***** HE VERY STRONG AND CAPABLE ***********

Bondarev looked alert, his muscles bulging under his uniform. He was a highly trained soldier, capable of breaking a wolf's neck with his bare hands, and had no need to fear this delicate boy, but not daring to take it lightly in the presence of something supernatural, he adjusted himself to a state of immediate danger.

------

Bondarev noticed a transparent figure flashed from his side. It was just a short blink of an eye, a fraction of a second, but Bondarev was trained to the rigors of the KGB and he was absolutely certain it was a person!

-------- IS A HYBRID THAT HAS NO ISSUE KILLING PEOPLE, INCLUDING KIDS ------------

The lieutenant on duty in the boiler room collapsed on the duty desk, a bottle of Red Label vodka still in his hand. A steel-core bullet had penetrated his heart, and Bondarev stood behind the lieutenant with his Makolov pistol.

---

At that moment the doctor heard the wind change behind his head, and the beam of the searchlight struck him. He turned sharply and saw huge black shadows hovering in the air, their rotor blades churning the snow into a flurry. It was Halo, the heavy helicopter from the Lenin, which had ventured to Black Swan Harbor in such bad weather.

　　"Didn't you say Halo couldn't fly in a snowstorm of this magnitude?" The Doctor froze. Something hard pressed against his back, it was Bondarev's Makarov pistol. One by one, the steel-core bullets pierced the Doctor's chest, tearing the aging heart into a million pieces. The Doctor spat out a mouthful of blood, mixed with fragments of his lungs, which had been destroyed in the process. He braced himself and turned his face to look at Bondarev, his eyes filled with shock.

　　"You can't complete the research without me ......," he hissed.

　　"We didn't even try to finish your research." Bondarev's pupils swirled with a gorgeous gold.

　　"Who the hell ...... are you?"

　　Bondarev held the Doctor in place and injected him with adrenaline using an air needle, "Hold on one more minute for the most magnificent scene."

　　The Black Swan Harbor suddenly trembled up tremendously, the sound of a series of explosions spread upward from the ground, but it was not a vacuum bomb detonated in advance, if it was a vacuum bomb, a square kilometer around would be leveled to the ground. A fire rose, and countless pieces of frozen earth spilled onto the frozen sea.

　　"Engineering explosive mines?" The Doctor asked in a hiss.

　　"The new engineering burst mines, even 10,000 years of permafrost, as long as the right eye is chiseled can be blown up. Now in a place you can't see, there is a huge hole with a depth of 180 meters, leading to Rasputin's cave, where we will use the laser to cut through the ice and take away the precious collection that originally belonged to you." Bondarev said, "You have been isolated from the outside world for too long to know the progress of engineering, it is no longer difficult to cut through the tundra in an instant today, once I probe its location."

　　"You ...... want to take that dragon!" The Doctor understood.

　　"Yes," Bondarev replaced the magazine, walked over to the sled, and fired four bullets into the chests of each of the four children.

　　The children died without a struggle from the potent hypnotic drug. It was pure carnage.

　　"You are not the only one who is willing to sacrifice human lives for a great cause." Bondarev pressed his chest in silence for the children he had just killed, looking reverent.

[memer-the-miner]

I heard you do techza prompts? Could you do immortal philza and techno, but techno dies and reincarnates but doesn't have his memories :D? But he slowly gains them back and falls in love with philza once again :]?

Idk if this is quite what you meant but I still hope you enjoy it. (Also I assumed this was a writing prompt)

Writing is long so it's under the cut-

Techno and Phil, Kings of the Antarctic Empire, were fighting off an ambush from a rival kingdom. So far they’ve killed most of them; only three remained. Techno was fighting one, Phil was fighting the second, the third was somewhere, injured, between the two kings. Techno slayed his opponent quickly, and he heard Philza kill his attacker too. Before he could turn around, his whole world stopped.

The sword pierced his chest in a single blow from behind. Techno heard the final soldier laugh. They were cut off by the sound of their own gurgling and the loud thump of their body hitting the snow packed ground. Before Techno fell, two arms caught him and held him close.

“Phil-“ he breathed out, barely able to focus on his love.

“I’m here, we can heal this, we have potion-“ Philza rushed out before Techno interrupted.

“I won’t survive Phil,” he said bluntly, he could taste the blood pooling in his mouth already. He spit it out before continuing. “Remember I’ll come back, maybe in 10 years, maybe in 100. But I’ll come back for you my Angel.”

Techno reached and put a hand on the side of Phil’s face, who pushed into the contact. Before Phil could say I love you, Techno’s hand went limp.

**********

Technoblade was walking to the convenient store a block from his apartment. His roots were showing and wanted to get more pink dye before his hair went fully brown.

He walked in and pulled his leather jacket a little tighter around his body. Why the hell do these stores need to be so cold, he thought to himself.

As he walked through the aisles, bee lining to the hair dye, a person caught his eye. It was an older man with blond hair, he wore an aviator jacket with some simple jeans.

It’s not like he was doing anything interesting, actually he seemed to just be debating on what type of soda to buy from the freezer in the back.

Techno doesn’t know why, but instead of getting hair dye like he wanted, he goes to talk to the man.

He learns a couple things; 1. The man had beautiful blue eyes, 2. He had a charming British accent, 3. His name was Phil, and 4. Techno wanted to talk to this guy again.

*******

Techno and Phil would meet up at parks or arcades, Techno was competitive and Phil seemed to like indulging him in competition. Somehow he always knew what Techno was going to do before he even did it. But that wasn’t Techno’s main concern.

Ever since he met Phil, he had been having strange dreams. Sometimes he was a King, in charge of a great empire, and sometimes he was a gladiator, fighting in the arena. But in each and every dream Phil was there. Techno never dreamed about people like that, actually he barely had dreams period. Either way Phil was the cause and he was going to get to the bottom of this.

********

Phil and Techno were talking and walking at the park for their tenth time, Techno hasn’t brought up his dreams; at this rate he doesn’t plan on doing so. That’s what made it so much worse.

The incident.

Phil had mentioned something about disliking winter and Techno had replied with, “if you didn’t like the winter why make an empire in the Arctic?” As soon as he said it he went to back track but Phil was staring at him in a weird way. Techno didn’t know if he thought he was weird or not but he wasn’t going to find out. Before Phil could say anything, Techno took off running.

*********

Techno had been having weird scenes flash into his head. He’s a king, he’s fighting, he’s dead. That’s some of them, the rest are… different. He’s dancing, he’s laughing, he’s in love. They feel so much like memories, but they definitely aren’t.

But maybe they could be. While Techno was googling his symptoms of being a weirdo with weird dreams, an article about reincarnation popped up. Being curious he decided to read it.

Maybe those dreams weren’t dreams at all.

********

Techno found himself walking back from the convenient store when he ran into a familiar face, one with blond hair and a British accent.

“Why did you run off?” He asked.

Techno hesitated, before settling on the truth

“Look I know you’ll think I’m weird but I’m pretty sure we met in a previous life where we were kings in the Arctic which why I said that weird line and you probably think I’m so weird and-“ Techno’s rambling was cutoff when Phil grabbed his wrist.

“How much do you remember?” Phil asked, his eyes brimming with hope.

“Not a lot,” Techno answered truthfully.

Phil smirked, “well, we should fix that shouldn’t we?”

********

It’s been a few months and Techno still hasn’t remembered everything but his past life, but he’s getting there. He and Phil moved into the same apartment, Phil suggested it may bring back more memories, which it did. Every few days Techno will unlock a new memory. But as exciting as that was, Techno got to spend time with Phil every day. He got to learn new things about him. Apparently where Techno reincarnated, Phil was immortal, Techno loved learning about the past from someone who actually lived through it all. And that he really loved crows, which Techno though was more important; mainly because it gave him ideas of gifts he could give Phil.

Either way, every day Techno falls in love with Phil a little more in two different ways. One time through the memories he gains from the past, where their married, in love, and powerful. And another time through the new memories they create together, where Techno learns about all the new things that Phil loves, and can love him in a new way.

[sevlgi]

my sunday

requested: no

group: blackpink

pairing: jisoo x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: school!au, based on loona’s my sunday mv.

warnings: none

synopsis: Jisoo is what makes your Sundays so very special.

a/n: I WROTE SOMETHING. I DID IT!!!!! (please don’t mind the typos in this, i legitimately wrote this in an hour and posted it immediately)

word count: 1.4k

Sundays were the most special day of the week to you.

Well, it wasn’t just you. They were special to all of the students at Gyeongseong Boarding School; there, Sundays were free days, the only day out of the week where students were free to leave the campus or roam it with no restrictions. But to you, Sundays were special for a different reason-- they were a special memory, with an even more special girl. 

Jisoo was one out of your four roommates, but that was nowhere close to how you’d describe her. A friend, maybe, or even a best friend. You weren’t sure how you’d phrase it if you were asked why you looked at her like she was your entire life, why you thought any disease could be cured by just one look at her smile.

But if she asked you, you knew that you’d tell her that she was everything perfect, the only star in your dark sky, yet bright enough to illuminate your entire world. And ever since that handshake on your first day in Gyeongseong, she was your Sunday, the diamond in a sea of worthless coal.

“Y/N? Get up, we’re here.”

Despite never having been asleep, you faked an overexaggerated yawn and tilted further into Jisoo’s neck. She laughed breathily, finger poking right into your forehead. “I know you aren’t asleep, dumbass.”

You sighed and lifted your head at that. Even through your bleary vision, you couldn’t miss the heart shape of her grin, and your cheeks flushed pink despite all the times you’d seen it before. “Fine. Has the bus stopped?”

“No, actually,” Jisoo answered and turned to the front. “My shoulder was just tired.”

Punching her arm lightly, you glanced out the window, at the morning sunlight shining down on the dingy storefronts and faded brick walls of the city. It was the same as always-- after all, you and Jisoo took the same bus at the same time every Sunday, even sat in the exact same seats every time. But as the bus lurched to a stop at the same grimy metal sign as always, and you stood with Jisoo’s hand in yours, the view was just as beautiful as it had been the first Sunday that Jisoo brought you down the hill with her. “Are we going for ice chocolate again?” she asked as you stepped out of the bus, leaning slightly on her so as not to fall on the crooked last step.

“I’ll never say no to ice chocolate,” you answered absentmindedly. The slight January breeze was icy on your face, but Jisoo didn’t seem to mind even in her short skirt. “Rock paper scissors again to determine who pays?”

She considered it but shook her head, grinning, “Race” one second before she turned and bolted for the ice cream shop just down the street.

“H-- cheater!”

You still laughed as you chased her, feet pounding against the ground even while you shouted after her. “Kim Jisoo, just you wait until I get my hands on you!”

“I wish I brought my camera,” the other girl sighed as she looked out to the ocean. It wasn’t much in your opinion, more gray than blue, the waves crashing onto dusty brown sands where the water met the beach. But Jisoo still watched it with appreciating eyes, working away slowly at her iced chocolate. “Would’ve made for a pretty shot.”

“You can always get it next week,” you shrugged in answer. Your own cup was empty, sitting to your left on the slightly sandy stone wall that the two of you were perched on. “I mean, we come here every week.”

Jisoo smiled, “But it’s different every week. It could be sunnier, or maybe rainy; either way, it’s still beautiful.”

“You’re cheesy as hell.” You rolled your eyes, reaching for her iced chocolate but blocked by her free hand. “I’ll still come here every Sunday with you, even if it rains.”

She nodded, biting down on the spoon in her mouth and swinging her legs over the wall. “Remember that time in 2nd year? You insisted on coming even though it snowed, and we had to explain to our roommates why they had to live in other rooms so they wouldn’t catch a cold from us.”

“That was kinda stupid. But at least we got the room to ourselves for a week,” you grinned. “We should do it again, get Chaeng, Lisa, and Jen to annoy room 244 for a change.”

“That’s mean,” Jisoo shook her head. “But I like the way you think.”

“I mean,” you continued, “with all of them in the room, we wouldn’t get to do this.”

“Do what?” she asked, turning despite knowing exactly what you were going to do. And predictably, you kissed her, soft and slow, savoring it while you could. Her lips were cold from the weather and from the dessert, but they were as soft and sweet as ever as they moved against yours. Jisoo’s hand clasped in yours again, intertwined and pressed to the stone of the wall as she leaned in a bit closer.

Before someone could call you out or recognize you, though, you parted, teeth letting go of her bottom lip with a pop. When Jisoo looked down, she found the cup of iced chocolate to be in your hand instead of hers, the spoon already in your mouth as you grinned. “Y/N, that’s a foul,” she complained. But she didn’t try to wrestle for it back, simply watching you with a sigh. 

After a beat of comfortable silence, the quiet murmur of people passing by only ambient noise in the background, Jisoo spoke again. “You know, my brother called yesterday. He wanted to know if I got a boyfriend yet.”

You snorted in laughter and shook your head. “Right, we’re graduating soon. What’d you tell him?”

“I told him that I’ll date when I get into college,” she sighed.

“Hey. Are we not dating?” you pouted, snickering when she tossed a napkin at your head. “I know, I know. Korea’s conservative, your brother’s conservative. We would’ve gotten hit if someone saw us just a bit earlier.”

Jisoo frowned, toying with your fingers in hers. “You’re right. Y/N... If you had to introduce me as something, what would you say?”

“Well, the obvious. You’re my roommate,” you smiled, “and my best friend. But... you’re also my Sunday.”

“Your Sunday? I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” Jisoo looked up, and you could barely hold yourself from leaning in and kissing her again. The slightly grayish tone of Gyeongseong’s sun did wonders for her features, illuminating the curve of her cheek and the tip of her nose just enough to make her look like a literal angel. “Care to explain?”

You hesitated for a second and tapped the plastic spoon against the plastic of the cup in your hands. “Do you remember the first time you explained the concept of Gyeongseong Sundays to me? You couldn’t explain why you liked coming down to the same beach every weekend with your friends, so you decided to just take me with you.”

“Right,” Jisoo snapped her fingers, nodding. “And when I asked you afterwards what you thought of Gyeongseong Sundays, you told me that they were special. The one red licorice in a bag of black, the rose in a bouquet of thorns. You were poetic then, and even more so now.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” you laughed slightly. “But yeah. Since almost four years ago, we’ve spent every Sunday together, every one of our rare, perfect, special days. So you’re my Sunday. You're the one that makes my day special, and you shine like the tiny stars we watch from the rooftops.”

After taking a quick glance at the empty streets around you, Jisoo’s fingertips ghosted over your jawline again before her lips were on yours and everything faded. You could feel her smile, could taste the sheer contentment in the pressure between the two of you. And when she pulled away, that simple happiness still lit up her eyes, even when she turned to look at the gray-blue sea again. “Okay. Then I’ll be your Sunday. Your Sunday love.”

[pregnant-piggy]

Snowed in

Hermione Granger x reader

this is part of All I want for Christmas is fanfiction

this is written for @coffee--writes​ writing challenge

words: 2.1k

A/N: I love the snow, but sadly it rarely snows anymore where I live. I would absolutely not mind if I got snowed in with my crush and I would mind even less when it was Hermione

prompt: ‘Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?’ ‘It’s not that simple’

It was dark when you woke up. But not dark because the sun hadn’t risen yet, you realised when you looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was dark because there was something covering the windows and it were not your curtains.

You stepped out of bed and immediately were greeted by an embrace of coldness. It felt like stepping into an ice bath on a hot day. Frantically searching for warm clothes, you hopped closer to the window on one leg, as the other was in the air trying to put your pants on. You pushed the curtains aside and saw nothing but snow.

The whole window was blocked by a layer of snow. The light barely came through the blockage, only through the spots where the layer of snow was thinner. Your bedroom was lit up only by a hazy, pale light.

You opened the window and watched the layer of snow slide down the glass and fall down on the snow on the ground. With a jolt you noticed that the snow was not really on the ground, but it had built up to halfway through the windows on the downstairs floor.

There was movement in the shadows on the snow and you realised that Hermione must have gotten up already. Quickly you closed your window and got dressed further, so you could go downstairs.

‘Good morning, y/n,’ Hermione said when you opened the door to the kitchen.

‘Morning,’ you mumbled back. You sat down at the table and reached for an apple.

‘We’re snowed in,’ Hermione said and she pointed at the windows behind her. The same kind of snow that had been covering your window, blocked half the windows. All you could see outside was the light grey sky and the tops of the white trees that stood at the edge of the garden.

You walked closer to the window and stood beside Hermione. You took a bite of the apple and stared outside. Hermione turned around to the window too and she stood with her shoulder against yours. Her body warmth brought the heat that you were so desperately trying to find this morning.

‘I don’t think we can go anywhere,’ Hermione said and you nodded slowly.

‘Yeah, no, the door must be frozen shut,’ you mumbled.

Hermione’s low hum, made your inside turn and you stepped away from her. Your fingers shut around the apple you were holding tightly and you took a deep breath.

‘Are you alright?’ Hermione asked worried and you flashed her a smile.

‘I’m fine, I just- I don’t know, I think I pulled a muscle when I stepped out of bed or something,’ you lied, rubbing your leg to make it more believable.

‘Can I feel? Because I had the same a while ago and I found a way to relieve the pressure on it…’ Hermione said and she came closer to you.

‘No!’ you quickly said and Hermione’s face cramped together at your loud voice. ‘No, I mean- I think I’m fine. I just… I’m going to put something warmer on, I’m cold.’

You left the kitchen swiftly and tried to ignore the sting in your chest that you got from being so mean to your friend. But you just had to. You were afraid that if you let her come close to you she would notice that there was more than just innocent platonic feelings on your side. The friendship you had with Hermione was one of the most cherished things you had and you didn’t want to lose it. The fear of losing her was bigger than the courage to confess.

In the safety of your bedroom you let out a loud sigh and dropped on your bed. You despised yourself for your behaviour. You wished there was a way to get rid of the feelings, but they only seemed to be getting more intense. Tears pooled in your eyes as you thought of the sad face of Hermione. You didn’t want to hurt her, but you also didn’t want to get hurt.

Maybe you fell asleep or maybe you just stared at the ceiling for a while but after some time Hermione knocked on your door and she came in. She sat down next to you and stroke your hair lovingly. You closed your eyes at the warm touch of her hand and for a moment you let yourself enjoy.

‘I’m sorry,’ you muttered and opened your eyes. Hermione was staring out of the window and you only saw one side of her face. She said nothing but you could see the glimmering of the tears in her eyes.

You sat up and wrapped your arm around her shoulders. She looked at you and smiled sadly. You pulled her close and rubbed circles on her back. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said. ‘The snow just stresses me out a little. We don’t know how long it will last. I shouldn’t have outed that on you, sorry.’

Hermione looked up at you and smiled more genuinely. She sniffed and you wiped the tears from her face, trying so hard to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You felt your cheeks growing hot and you hoped to all the spirits in the world that Hermione wouldn’t notice.

‘Come on, let’s go do something fun!’ Hermione said with a happy grin on her face.

* * * * *

The rest of the day you spent watching films and baking cookies with Hermione. It was nice to once do something without the stress of your normal daily life. It was for the first in a long time that you fully relaxed, though at all times still careful not to get too close or not to stare too long.

Over time you had learned how to suppress your feelings for your best friend. Day after day you had pushed them down, hidden them from everyone. There was no one who knew about your crush and no one who suspected anything. At least, that you knew of.

A day passes quickly when you do nothing. Before you knew it, it was after dinner and you were sitting on the couch under a blanket, staring mindlessly at the film that was playing on the TV. While the main character confessed his undying love for woman whose life he had saved, Hermione sighed happily next to you.

There was so little space between you two that you could feel the warmth radiating from her arm. A part of you wanted to get closer to her, but the other part of you wanted to be on the other side of the couch. You longed to hold her closer, but you feared she would notice. As your mind and heart were in battle you lost focus on the film and your surroundings. All you noticed was the warmth on the left side of your body and the angel and devil on your shoulders.

But the battle was stopped when Hermione put her head on your shoulder. As a reflex, that was the result of the inner battle, you pulled away. Hermione’s head shot back up and without thinking you got up from the couch and walked to the window.

There was someone in your head screaming at you, cursing you for your brute response, and that voice sounded an awful lot like your own voice. A shiver went through you and for a moment it seemed like you were going to break down just right there, like you would fall through the ice and drown in the cold water.

But a warm hand held you above the surface. Hermione’s soft hand on your shoulder was enough for you to hold yourself together. Or maybe she held you together.

‘It’s wonderful, isn’t it?’ Hermione whispered as she watched the snow.

You looked at her and hummed a response. The contours of her face were lit up by the light of the setting sun reflecting on the white snow outside. The lines of her face were as a golden thread spun around the beauty of her appearance.

Hermione’s eyes were still fixated on the snow outside as she spoke to you. ‘Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?’

Staring at your hands you swallowed. You should have known that she would eventually see through you.

‘It’s not that simple,’ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds from the TV.

‘It is,’ Hermione said and she turned to you. She took your hands, forcing you to look up to her. ‘You make it more complicated than it is. Please tell me.’

You closed your eyes and shook your head. For a moment you felt like a small child, not knowing how to put your feelings to words. There was a fire inside you spitting words to your mouth, but they didn’t leave your lips.

‘I don’t know how to,’ you whispered. Your throat was squeezed shut by the tears that were threatening to fall. There was a lump in your stomach but you knew that if there was ever a moment you had to confess, this was it.

‘Take your time,’ Hermione said and you took a deep breath. Her hands were rubbing up and down your arms softly and when the first tear fell she was quick to wipe it away.

It was now or nothing and you decided to throw it all out in the simplest way possible. You feared for the outcome, but this was what eventually would give you peace.

‘I love you.’

With closed eyes you listened to the silence that followed after. The music from the TV at the subtitles of the film was the only sound that was in the room. You couldn’t even hear Hermione’s breathing and you were pretty sure you had stopped breathing yourself too.

The hands on your arms had stopped moving and the fingers were drilling into your skin. The warmth from them had disappeared and your arms grew numb the longer the silence lasted. You didn’t dare to open your eyes, afraid that you would be faced with your worst nightmare. You couldn’t lose Hermione, you just couldn’t, but now you feared that you had messed it all up.

After what felt like hours there were more sounds in the room. Hermione’s breathing got deeper and you could hear your own breathing too. The warmth from her hands got back on your skin and sparkles were sent throughout your entire body.

‘I love you too.’

All the dark wall around you collapsed and you stood in the clouds. The sun was shining brightly on your face, warming up your entire body. The beams fell on your cheeks like soft hands caressing your skin.

Before you had opened your eyes you felt two soft lips brushing over yours, forming a smile as your hands found Hermione’s hips. Her hands went from your arms to behind your neck and she pulled you closer, pressing her lips to yours.

It wasn’t fireworks, it wasn’t electricity or sparkles but it was ethereal. It was the softest silk and the most velvety clouds. It had the taste of cherries and rosé wine, the scent of peony roses. It was a kiss in the sky, above the tops of the highest trees and passed the mountaintops. It was higher than the clouds, in the pink light of the setting sun.

It felt like all your dreams had come true and for a moment there wasn’t any fear anymore. Hermione and you were all that mattered in that moment, nothing more, nothing less. A bubble of protection and trust was built around you and there was nothing that could burst it.

As you pulled away you could only smile. Hermione’s plump lips smiled back at you and you wished that this moment would stay forever, that the time would stand still and nothing had to change.

There was so much that you wanted to ask, but all that passed your lips was a content sigh that was answered with another kiss. Hermione’s hands raked through your hair and your fingers squeezed her hips lightly. One tap of her tongue against your lips was enough for you to open your mouth more. The divine feeling rushed through you in waves, knocking you off your feet further with every second that passed. It felt like your legs would bail on you, but you didn’t care.

Hermione would be there to catch you.

- - - - - - - 

taglist

general HP: @kitkatkl​ @girllety​ @yuptha-tsme​ @sleep-i-ness​ @iamak20​ @thefuturelawyer​ @weasleydream​ @missmulti​ @deafgirltingz​ @moonstarrnghtsky​ @mytreec​ @lilulo-12fanfiction​ @emmaloo21​ @kashishwrites​ @ananad1​ @figlia--della--luna​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @mrs-malfoy-always​ @thefandomplace​ @magicwithaknife​ @mt2413​ @aesthetically-hailey​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @the-natureofme​ @missswriter​ @hahee154hq​ @chloer1275​

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH48

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 48: Star Death Reality Show (XXXI) {cw: misgendering}

"Will Qi Leren be alright?" Dr. Lu, who had already run away, looked at Du Yue behind him in a panic and murmured in a low voice, "I have a bad feeling."

"Qianbei will be fine," Du Yue said confidently.

"No, let's go down and have a look. If he’s in trouble, we can help," Dr. Lu said.

"Okay, let's go." Du Yue was fine with it.

The two people studied the route to find the safest passage. Dr. Lu's sense of direction was bad, and Du Yue wasn’t much better. Two headless flies wandered around the institute and accidentally found intermittent blood on the ground.

The two walked along the blood trail, and finally found the injured Lara in a hidden room. Her injury wasn’t serious, but her spirit was not good. After seeing Du Yue and Dr. Lu, she was silent for a long time, and her voice was hoarse as she asked: "Have you seen Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue?"

The two shook their heads, and Lara sighed: "I'm afraid they’re in danger."

Lara told them what had happened after they ran away. Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue disappeared quickly, but Janet, Alex and Lara were together. They’d had an argument because Francis had been parasitized by an octopus. Janet strongly suspected that Lara was parasitized, and Lara would naturally not admit to such false accusations. During the argument, they met Leviathan, who had been thrown off by Qi Leren once before.

Janet, who was the closest to Leviathan, was the first to be killed. Alex tried to escape, but Leviathan jumped up again. Alex, who was eager to get rid of it, tried to push Lara out, and even stabbed Lara with a dagger. However, Lara had a strong will to survive. She took the dagger regardless of her injury and stabbed Alex’s vitals with a knife. She hid in a room, locked the door, and crawled away from the vents.

After that, Lara tenaciously fled the whole way, and finally came here and met Du Yue and Dr. Lu.

"We also met the monster, and Qi Leren led it away. Here's the thing..." Dr. Lu plainly told the story again, and finally asked, "We’re going to find Qi Leren. Would you like to join us?"

Lara touched the wound on her hand and nodded firmly: "Let's go."

This time, all three people were in a heavy mood. Especially after seeing the incomplete bodies of Jing Siyu and Jing Sixue, Lara cried sadly and asked aloud, "Are we the only ones left? Is Qi still alive?"

Janet and Alex had undoubtedly died by Leviathan's mouth, as well as Jing Siyu and Jing Siyue. Francis, Annie, Mark and Xue Jiahui were all parasitized. He Yi became Leviathan’s host. Only four of them had survived, and among them, Qi Leren’s life and death were still uncertain.

"Of course he’s still alive!" Dr. Lu said firmly. "He must still be alive!"

　　&&&

In the vast underground ice palace.

"Prophet, are you awake?" A blindfolded woman stood up from the chair of carved ice and respectfully saluted him. The ice and snow maids who were responsible for guarding the underground ice palace also bent over in salute.

"Soothsayer? Is it your rotation today?" asked the Prophet.

"It should have been the Iillusionist’s turn, but he had something to do, so we changed it," the Soothsayer replied.

"How is that boy recently?" When it came to the Illusionist, the Prophet's tone was clearly casual.

"Not bad, I heard that he made an interesting new friend, and he played tricks on others all day long." The Soothsayer smiled and asked again, "This time, you slept for a much shorter time than expected. Is something wrong?"

"It's not an accident." The Prophet frowned and looked up at the dome of ice and snow, but his line of sight seemed to pass through the thick layer of ice and look at the vast universe.

The blindfolded Soothsayer could not see his expression at the moment, but she could feel his inner unrest.

"Someone has discovered their original force, and that force is biased towards us," said the Prophet.

The Soothsayer breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and said, "Isn't this a good thing? Although it’s only the first step, it’s always ahead of the other sentient beings on the starting line. Maybe it will eventually condense a half-field or even a field."

It was only the first step to discover one's original force, and it would take some difficult self-testing to condense a half-field, but this already meant that this person was about to embark on a road different from ordinary players. Any master at the field level started from this first step. Although most people would fall in the long road of experience, everyone who had reached the field level had terrible strength.

The Prophet sighed faintly: "It’s too early to talk about field condensation... Although I’m optimistic about him, I didn’t expect it to be so fast. This may not be a good thing for him. There are still too many problems in his body that have not been solved."

The Soothsayer asked curiously, "Do you know that man? What is his original force?"

The Prophet sensed the new force full of vigor and hope, and gently spoke the answer:

"Rebirth."

　　&&&

In the deep underground glacier wrapped in eternal cold, the temperature was 60 degrees below zero. When human beings were exposed to this environment, it only took a few minutes for the blood in the nose and ears to be unable to maintain circulation because of the cold, and the cells would quickly die.

This underground world without light seemed destined to be forgotten in the cold.

Crushed skull, whole body fracture, ruptured organs, internal and external bleeding... Worse than that, when falling from that height, the speed would return to zero at the moment of contact with the ground, and the body would be deformed instantly under the huge force of the impact. Even the space alien Leviathan, whose vitality was extremely terrible, was seriously injured after falling and fell into a deep sleep.

To say nothing of a human being.

Death was the only outcome.

But suddenly, something moved in the ruinous "tomb" created from broken ice.

And then moved again.

Qi Leren felt as if he was in an icy hell. Every time he breathed, thousands of ice needles punctured his internal organs crazily, which made him feel miserable. He couldn't even think of why he felt so painful and cold, or where he was.

Under this inhuman pain, he only felt that he didn't want to live any longer, but he couldn't even die.

Breathing returned, heartbeat returned, he still couldn't open his eyes, he could only move with all his might. The stones and ice blocks on his arms also moved and collapsed violently, and his sound echoed in the lifeless darkness.

Qi Leren's consciousness gradually returned, and he remembered who he was, but he still didn't realize where he was. He complained crazily in his mind that the air conditioner in his room was too cold, and that he had even accidentally fallen from the bed, and now he couldn't move.

But how could it hurt so much? It was like all his bones were broken.

Qi Leren's confused thinking leaped illogically. He saw many things, and the broken pictures rampaged in front of his eyes, but they just passed away. All he remembered was that he saw a pair of blue eyes.

Blue eyes.

Ning Zhou.

The name suddenly appeared in Qi Leren’s, which was like a spell to unlock the seal on his memories. Countless heavy memories were bearing down, which were more painful than the rose thorn stuck in his heart.

He was going to find Ning Zhou, and he was going to bring him back.

Qi Leren finally recalled his mission, and he began to struggle, struggling to get up from the tomb built from broken ice. Just turning over exhausted his strength, and he had to lie prone on the ground and breathe for a while, only to recover his strength slowly.

He noticed the time. It has been twenty hours since he’d fallen from the ice cliff. It was ten o'clock on the fifth night. The fifth day’s Best of the Day had already been announced, but he didn't know who it was. At the same time, his privacy time has been reset with the new day day, and he had another ten hours.

If you fell from such a high place, the tracking camera should be damaged. If not, the low temperature here should make it unable to work normally. But just to be on the safe side, turn it off.

"Turn off the camera." Qi Leren squeezed his voice out of his dry throat, and coughed wildly as soon as he finished speaking. His mouth was full of the fishy sweetness of blood, which made Qi Leren feel queasy.

Suddenly there was a light sound in the dark, as if a stone had been pushed down.

Qi Leren immediately took out a flashlight from the item bar and shone it in the direction of the sound.

Not far away, there is a mound of rocks and crushed ice, and a tentacle was slowly sticking out from the inside, which was extremely slow and seems to be seriously injured.

That thing wasn't dead yet? Or did it sense the breath of the living again and wake up from hibernation?

Qi Leren struggled from the ground. Although he was mysteriously resurrected, his left hand, which was bitten off by Leviathan, still didn't grow back. If he tried this again, he would only die.

But fortunately, he had a key item that had cooled down.

When the Prophet's Heart was used again, Qi Leren felt subtly different from the last time. The phantom angel falling from the sky came to him and took him away from the terrible world to the carefree Garden of Eden. Under the cover of God's grace, he didn't need to worry, and he didn't feel fear. The world was like sand in his hand, and he could easily knead it into the shape he wanted.

Heavy rocks and ice were pushed away with a flick, exposing Leviathan lying on the ground dying. This horrible monster had a red eye, and this huge eyeball was full of ferocious madness.

There was an invisible giant clock behind him, and the pointer walked quickly. As long as it finished three laps, the power he borrowed would be like the chime of midnight, dissipating all magic.

He had to hurry.

Qi Leren held out his hand and raised his palm in the void. Leviathan floated and began to roar and struggle, but this degree of resistance had no effect before the original force. Moving the palm of his hand slowly, Qi Leren felt that he could easily knead it into pieces, just like what he did to Mark's octopus.

But this was not the only way. Qi Leren felt the mystery of time and carefully explored its secret. A mysterious feeling emerged in his heart. He rubbed his fingers and the sands of time slowly flowed down in his hands.

Leviathan floating in the air as if it had been cast in magic. Its shell was rapidly aging, coated with a layer of rust, and finally it seems to be petrified. Its body was full of cracks, and finally it turned into powder like beach sand, which sprinkled to the ground slowly, leaving a golden treasure chest and a round sphere.

Qi Leren waved his hand, and these two things fell into his hands. The treasure chest was opened, which was an item.

[Lucky Revolver: There are six slots in this gun’s chamber, one of which is loaded with a bullet. Shooting at one's own temple can give one minute of absolute defense within a radius of 500 meters around the locked target, but the absolute defense is invalid for this bullet. Even if you are lucky, God will only give you five minutes. If you are not afraid of death, you can continue for another minute. Locked target: not set.]

Qi Leren immediately decided that this was of no use to him, because he would blow his head off with the first shot, and unless it was matched with S/L, it was a waste.

Disappointed, he looked at the other object, which was an eyeball as big as a bowl. The scarlet pupil seemed familiar. It was called [Leviathan's Eyeball].

What was this thing? There wasn’t even a brief introductory description, which reminded Qi Leren of another prop without a brief introduction, namely, the "Scepter of Hell", which Maria had entrusted him to give to the Prophet.

Time was running out, and the clock representing his time limit only had half a rotation left. The translucent wings behind the Qi Leren lifted him, flying over the deep underground glacier, crossing the collapsed ice tunnel, flying all the way along the coming road, and returning to the iron door at the entrance before time ran out.

"Qi Leren? You’re still alive? That’s great!" "Qianbei! Are you alright? Qianbei! How did you grow wings!" "Qi, are you alright?" The three people wandering around the door with flashlights rushed up in surprise at the sight of Qi Leren.

Prophet's Heart’s time was up, and Qi Leren landed on the ground. After the sacred power retreated, he sat down weakly and walked out of the underground ice cave with the help of the three panicking people.

"It's okay, it's all taken care of. Just in case, we should quickly leave here, seal the exits, and wait for rescue." Although Qi Leren was still in the aftershocks of coming back from the dead, his mind was clear, and he clearly commanded the three people. He was worried about whether there were any octopuses hatching in the research institute, but he was afraid to say it now, for fear that after his mouth moved, his good luck would run out.

Du Yue had great strength, and single handedly carried Qi Leren, who had lost his arm, on his back. He listened to the three people say what had happened after they’d split up, learning that after discovering that the other people had become Leviathan's food, the three people had come to the bottom of the institute to look for Qi Leren. They went in several times, but the temperature inside was horribly low. Unlike Qi Leren who had been blessed by the holy light, they finally had to retreat, worried that Qi Leren was dead.

Qi Leren didn't say that he and Leviathan had fallen off the ice cliff together, only that Leviathan had fallen off, and that he was injured and unconscious for a long time but didn't die. Finally, God blessed him and gave him strength to return to them.

Dr. Lu and Du Yue were very embarrassed, but Lara was very moved. She took Qi Leren's remaining right hand and sincerely said, "When we go back, introduce me to your teachings. I’m willing to be baptized."

Qi Leren, who had no intention of preaching at all, was in a distressing situation. One atheist has destroyed the worldviews of another atheist through acting skills and unscientific miracles—maybe more than one. Should he be sealed as a saint or something?

They left the underground research institute, blocked the exit, left the basement, and returned to the surface. The night was bright and the whole land was covered with white snow and ice. Lara, who was the first to leave the room, pointed to the sky in surprise and shouted: "Look, what is that!"

The three people raised their heads and looked at the approaching black spots.

"Is it... Is the rescue coming?" Dr. Lu was excited.

"Great." Qi Leren also breathed a sigh of relief. The copy was coming to an end, and they could return to the Nightmare World soon.

The spacecraft was getting closer and closer, and before long, they would be able to board the spacecraft safely and leave, but the spacecraft was slow to land. The four people waited anxiously, just like waiting for a late plane.

"It seems like something’s wrong." Lara stood up and looked at more and more spacecrafts that had no intention of landing. "What are they waiting for?"

A thought flashed through Qi Leren's mind: "Are they a civilian spacecrafts?"

"No, these are..." Lara said, her voice stopping abruptly.

A beam more dazzling than sunlight converged on the muzzle of the spacecraft, and the terrible energy was aimed at this planet!

Stunned, the four people watched the devastating attack on the plane beneath their feet, and they couldn't help feeling shocked. They had never thought that, after escaping death from a horrible space alien, they would finally die at the hands of their own people. In order to prevent the octopus from spreading, the army gave up the idea of a rescue landing and blasted the whole planet to pieces at a safe distance, where there was no risk of contact.

At the last second in this copy world, Qi Leren and the others were judged to have completed the task requirement of "surviving until the army arrived", and left the world in the light of the blast.

-----

Editor’s Notes: Obviously those items can only have positive results, right?

As a bonus for the end of this arc, BMBL wrote a collection of the program audience’s reactions on her Weibo. They’re posted as images so I can’t easily throw them into an mtl, but here’s the link for anyone who wants to take a stab at it: https://weibo.com/1741082525/F4b6D7Upr

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[clairenatural]

if you’re actively having fun w the three word prompts and are open to some more:

smile, snowflakes, home 💚💙

this is such a soft way to ask this thank u 💚💙 i hope you like it! (765 words)

The first winter that Castiel is human it snows 15 inches. Snow spills down the steps to the front door of the bunker and blocks them in, and it takes hours for Dean to fight his way out enough to clear a path out. When they can finally get from the road to the door safely Dean drops his shovel and collapses into a snowbank and thinks, not for the first time, how much easier it would be to live in an actual house. With steps to a front door. With, if all else fails, windows to climb out of to deal with the snow.

There are still snowflakes falling, but it’s a soft snow, and Dean thinks (he hopes) it’s not heavy enough that he’ll have to dig them out again tomorrow. His bones are getting too old, the cold making the aching worse—and in part it’s a wonderful feeling, to have bones old enough to ache, but that doesn’t mean he wants to exacerbate it. Which is also why he lays there for longer than he intends to—long enough for Cas to come find him and flop down next to him, no questions asked. He’s not wearing a coat, because he keeps forgetting that humans sometimes need help thermoregulating, but even now the cold doesn’t seem to bother him. He still runs hot, like the leftover grace woven into his cells is still burning up.

He nudges Dean’s foot with his own, and Dean looks over at him with an easy grin, and his gloved hand reaches out to find Castiel’s bare one. “What are we doing?” Cas asks, smiling back, and Dean’s heart warms at we. What are we doing, not just you, because Cas had followed Dean right down into the snow just like he would follow him anywhere.

“You ever think about moving?” Dean asks in response, which both is and isn’t an answer to his question. Cas raises his eyebrows.

“Moving where?”

Dean shrugs and turns his attention back skyward. It’s getting close to the earliest sunset of the year, so the afternoon sun has already begun its final descent. “Into town, maybe? Or Hell, farther out. Something with a porch. And a garage with a driveway, not a creepy tunnel.”

Cas hums and follows Dean’s gaze back up, watching the snowflakes drift down towards the pair of them. “A garden would be nice,” he agrees, and squeezes Dean’s hand. They lie there for another few moment, watching as the orange rays of sunset seep through the soft winter clouds, until Cas starts shivering, and even Dean can feel the cold seeping through his coat.

Dean hauls himself up with a groan, and his knees complain but he stoops over to help Cas up anyway. He pulls him up without letting go of his hand but then stops, staring down at the impressions left with a grin. “Look—” he points. “We kinda made snow angels.”

“They don’t have wings,” Cas points out, frowning. Dean just shrugs.

“So? Don’t need wings to be an angel,” Dean emphasizes his point by squeezing his hand, and Cas smiles soft and pretty in the twilight.

They go back inside and Dean makes hot chocolate for them both (and Sam, who has spent the day buried in the archives to avoid the cold). Tomorrow they’ll teach Cas to make a snowman, and Dean will convince him to put on a scarf. He’ll lose the argument on gloves, but Cas’ hands will get cold so he’ll stick them in Dean’s pockets (and Dean is starting to think that was the goal all along).

The second winter Castiel is human, it snows another foot, but only manages to coat the first two steps up to their porch. The driveway is packed but Dean wouldn’t take baby out in this weather anyway, so he leaves her safe in the garage and resigns to staying home.  He finds Cas on their porch swing, wrapped in a blanket and lamenting the loss of his sunflowers. Dean presses a cup of hot cocoa into his hand, then lifts up one end of the blanket to curl up next to Cas with his own mug.

“They’ll grow back,” he reassures, and Cas smiles before turning to press a kiss to Dean’s cheek.

“I know.”

His nose and lips are cold against Dean’s when he leans back in for a real kiss, but heat from the cocoa is soothing their hands and faces. The world outside is cold but the two of them are warm—in their blanket, in their home, in each other.

[i4kyu]

cryogenic. 📍

(ゝ。∂)⌒☆ ࣪. treasure 트레저 hyunsuk.

warnings : not V many , emotional , lovers dying together

           frozen breath huffed from your lips as snow heaved against your figure, your hands instinctively reaching out to clutch on the padded arm of hyunsuk, your life partner in crime. his footsteps were heavy as he trudged through the deep snow of the mountain. icicles formed with each small step you took,  the gusting wind pushing you backwards, your balance slipping as your footing threatened to give out from beneath you.

            you fell to your knees in hopes of stabilizing yourself on the floor rather than collapsing down the mountain, your hands digging into the snow for any form of grip. your knees and legs came into contact with the subzero snow, pulsating pain thumping throughout your body. gloved hands grabbed at your bare wrists, the fabric of the fuzzy glove brushing up against your bare and frostbitten skin sending sharp waves of pain through your arm . you bit on your aching tongue as to suppress the scream your throat begged to let you pass through.

"y/n! just—please hold on for me, y/n!" hyunsuk's voice grabbed from deep within you one last rush of adrenaline, and as your throat betrayed you and let out a pained sob, you attempted once more to push yourself up with a last burst of energy—key word being attempted.

one particularly powerful gust of wind propelled you backwards, your body falling flat on your chest as you heard hyunsuk cry out. blizzard snow hailed itself in you and hyunsuk's direction, and even through the white storm, you could recognize the frozen tears within hyunsuk eyes as he watched you slowly lose your grasp. with all you had left, you gave hyunsuk a reassuring smile, ushering him with your eyes for him continue his journey.

his head subconsciously started shaking furiously as he pulled harder on your wrists, mentally begging the universe and whoever watched over you to allow you to stay by his side.

"y/n, NO! are you're CRAZY? i'm not FUCKING leaving you behind, y/n!" his voice was hoarse, his tone breaking with every word he hollered. pain seeped through his gut-wrenching screams, his reddened cheeks scarring as tears created pathways against his skin. "YOU'RE MY OTHER HALF, I CAN'T LEAVE YOU BEHIND, Y/N!"

a pang of admiration overwhelmed you, stripping away your soreness for a split second as you allowed yourself to bask once more in the fondness you held for his determination. "your determination is your strength, but it's also your weakness, hyunsuk. make it for me, dear."

mustering up all of your remaining might, you forcefully rip your arm from hyunsuk's grasp and let go of your hold, allowing yourself to free-fall down the mountain you had given up ascending. milliseconds after, you heard a stomach-churning, pained yell as hyunsuk watched you inch further and further away from him.

any fraction of rationality escaping from him, he barreled after your falling body, arms stretched out in desperation of reaching your hands. his eyes fixated on your black jacket against the pure white of the snow, narrowing his eyes as he focused on keeping his vision on you. 'i'm not letting you go again, my love. once is once too much.'

he tumbled after you down the snow-coated mountain, gasping in horror and disbelief as your figure seemed to disappear from his view. panic surged through his limbs as he ignored the pain and continued scanning the proximity for any sign of black, though alas failing at spotting anything other than white.

as the blizzard and gravity continued forcing him down the mountainside, his eyes came into view with a certain dip in the snow, only realizing too late its identity as he fell head-first into a wide and deep ravine-like trench. he fell on top of another thick layer of snow as he forced his arms to push himself off the ground in hopes of locating you.

to his fortune, he spotted a shivering huddle colored in contrast to the rest of the environment, laying on its side and trembling harshly. as he stumbled his way over to you, coughs erupted from his throat and tears prick within his eyes, a bodily response to the pain and soreness his body was facing.

what seemed like hours later, he made it to your side, his hands automatically reaching out to encase you in his loving arms. he adjusted you onto your back as he slowly and carefully began to shake you. "hey... hey, my love, you're okay, just breathe, angel—i'm here with you now! open your eyes for me, show me you're still with me..." he begged.

he let out a noise of relief as he noticed your blue and chapped lips parting, your lip corners turning up gently at the sound of his calming voice. your eyes slowly fluttered open at his words, your dying wish being to see hyunsuk's face one last time. "hyunsuk... you were and still are my everything."

"don't say that—that—that—don't talk like you're going to die on me, angel—you're going to make and so am i, and we're going to be warm together while we sit by the fireplace, my love! don't you want that? stay with me, alright, we can do this—you can do this!" his embrace around you tightened as he tried keeping his voice steady for your sake.

"hyunsuk, please..." he shook his head harder, the tears refusing to cease as he lowered his head closer to you. "i don't want to let you go, y/n... you're the only one i have left in this world..."

"hyunsuk... we're going to die down here."

another wave of emotion and pain overwhelmed him as he gathered the last remaining fractions of his strength in order to gather you into his arms in a sitting position. you laid still, falling limp into his embrace as he pulled you closer to his body. he turned you to where you sat facing him, his hand reaching under your chin to bring your vision up towards him.

as your eyes connected for the last time, snow by the minute filling the trench higher and higher, you let yourself melt into hyunsuk, one final sliver of warmth erupting from within you as your body pressed up against his. his arms once more wrapped around your back, pulling you closer towards him as he settled his head into the crane of your neck, breathing you in one last time.

"you showed me the world, y/n. you saved me from everything including myself, and i couldn't save you in the end... i'm so sorry, my love," he sobbed into your neck.

"this is the best thing you could have given me, hyunsuk. you're the best thing you could've given me. and now, we get to leave this cruel realm together, hand in hand. isn't that enough, my dear?" your hand trailed up and you lightly ran your fingers over his frozen-to-the-touch hair.

"thank you for everything, y/n—i love you more than you could ever know, you know that?"

you let out a small laugh at his antics as your hand dropped down to his back. "i love you more than you could ever know too." by now, snow had piled up to your waist, your lower body feeling numb and paralyzed against the freezing point of the ice.

"y/n?" he asks.

"yes, love?"

"until death do us part."

          as the beauty and warmth of summer began to hug the icy terrain to death, the snow within the shadowy trench melted to reveal the soft and hidden grass beneath. as the environment began paving the way, memories of life slowly revealed themselves, the frozen-in-ice corpses of you and your beloved lover, hyunsuk, sat comfortably with smiles etched across your faces.

         snow having been replaced with water, as wintertime once more took summer's place, each droplet of water hardened into a perfect crystal shell around your bodies, framing to display it within glass beauty, you and hyunsuk forever preserved within ice.

           millennia had whisked by, each season coming and going as two men stumbled across the frozen lake. one man pointed at the discolored ice beneath their feet to the other, their curiosity spiking as they called for a team of professionals they worked with to uncover the hidden mystery of the discoloration beneath the ice.

            carefully shaving the ice down until the mystery was recognizable, the men's eyes rested upon two soulmates huddled together as they waited for death to come gently pick them up and carry them away.

            transported to a museum, the subzero temperature block of ice encasing you displayed itself to all the visitors who wished to bask upon its glory—the glory and the sheer beauty of the memories of the last touches, last words, and the last breathes of two lovers remained set in stone for an eternity.

"hey, y/n."

"yes, hyunsuk?"

"we make a good tourist attraction."

[sweetbookreader]

The Truth Untold !!Chain of iron spoilers!!

The night had fallen on London for a while. Alastair Carstairs had not realized how much he was waiting for the darkness until then. He was sneaking through the alleys of the city, hoping that Thomas Lightwood hadn’t seen him. He was usually good at hiding, But that day, there were too many thoughts on his mind.

It had been a long day. Long and difficult. The memory of his father’s corpse in the city of bone’s cold room was tremendously vivid in his mind.

He took a deep breathe. He was freezing, it was so cold that he was tremnling

Baba’s hand was cold too when he touched him

The hand that messed up his hair when he was little. The hand that so many times had gently caressed him. and that, as many times had struck him, when his possessor returned home drunk soaked

Alastair stopped in the middle of the street. He couldn’t go back, Thomas almost did catch him. He couldn’t risk being seen. Not from him.

How would he explain what he was doing? And, most important, Why was he doing all of that?

But that was a distraction.  Something to hold on to in order to stop thinking about how his life was falling apart.

The awareness of what had happened hit him as hard as a train.

Baba is dead

He’s dead and you won’t be able to tell him to his face how bad and horrible of a father he was

You felt nothing for him, Then why do you feel this emptiness in your chest?

You hated him, only his sight caused you anger, and yet now you feel guilty

You can no longer tell him how you lost your childhood because of him, how he ruined your adolescence, how he broke your heart in pieces.

Your father is dead and you no longer have anyone to despise except yourself

He didn’t realize he had put his hand against a wall. He couldn’t even understand properly where he was. When did he started walking again? He couldn’t remember.

He could barely breathe. A knot in his throat blocked any sound. He could feel his chest tightening. He was feeling dizzy : His head was spinning fast, and he had to lean his body against the wall in order to not falling on his knees. Despite the freezing breeze, he was sweating. He was moving his hands without really feeling them. Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. He was being assaulted by panic and he didn’t know how to calm down.

He was alone. As always.

“Carstairs?”

The voice that called him came muffled to his ears, like he was in a glass bubble and someone was calling him from outside.

He tried to concentrate on the voice that was calling him, but he couldn’t : his throat was blocked, tears sliding down on his cheeks

He heard someone coming slowly next to him, almost as if that person was afraid Alastair might run away. He believed that soon someone would touch him, but it did not happen. With his forehead still resting against the wall, he couldn’t really see who was next to him, but even at that discreet distance, he began to feel a strong smell of alcohol and a pungent smell of cologne.

Fairchild

What was he doing there? Later, he would realize that he was in the street of the boy’s new apartment, but he didn’t notice at the time.

“Carstairs, what the hell..?” the blonde boy asked, looking genuinly worried

Alastair didn’t answer back. He had begun to wheeze, trying to breathe without any success.

He’s dead He’s dead He’dead He’s dead He’s dead

He overheard Matthew cursing, and then he felt his hands on his shoulder. He turned him over without any effort, and Alastair found himself face to face with him. He was shaking, but he was sure it wasn’t because of the cold. His legs were soft like jelly, and now that he had no support, he felt himself slipping on the ground. He fell on his knees on the snowy road, without realizing that his pants were getting wet because of the fresh snow. He leaned forward, clenching his shirt between his fists. His chest was hurting.

“Damn it” the blonde one cursed.

He knelt too. His alcohol’s smell was strong, almost overwhelming. It gave him headache.

“Carstairs, listen to me, okay? You have to listen to me, by the angel”

But Alastair wasn’t able to concentrate

The aroma of alcohol was tremendously similar to what his father had when, At night, he would come home drunk, and Alastair would have to put him back in bed, to prevent Cordelia or His mother from seeing him.

He was never going to do it again, because He was dead.

“Alastair! ”

His scream shook him. He looked at the other boy,  his green eyes enrapturing him

“You need to calm down, okay? Do what I say, Ok? Breathe slowly..Yeah, like that. Now, Breathe in. You’re doing great, Alastair, Now do it again”

Slowly, Alastair’s breath stabilized. He could clearly see now. With extreme awareness, he realized that Matthew’s hand was on his shoulder. He was holding him tight, as if he was trying to bring him back to reality through pain.

And it was working. But he was still feeling dizzy, and he rediscovered himself to tremble tremendously once again

He tried to formulate a coherent sentence but he found out that he wasn’t able to.

Fairchild slightly, looking at him with a neutral expression.

“You had a panic attack” he explained, even thou it wasn’t necessary. He was only doing that to fill the embarassing silence that had been created between them.

Alastair nodded, not trusting his own words. Matthew gave him a look that the other could not decipher. Was he worried or was he just looking at him with hate? He couldn’t tell.

“I’m not gonna ask you anything, especially why you’re alone at dawn with a murderer around , but you need to go home”

Alastair was about to reply that Matthew was out there alone too, but he stopped himself before he could say anything. He looked carefully at the other boy. He had no coat, he was dressed in only a shirt and pants too light to think that he was spending the night out.

With surprise, Alastair realized that they had to be right in front of the other boy’s apartment. The blonde guy had probably saw him from there, and he must had went to him without thinking about covering up.

He didn’t know what to think. He knew Matthew hated him, and he also knew he had every reason to.

Why then?

Because He probably knows how you’re feeling.

He nodded once more. He was freezing, and the only thing he wanted was to go back home, locking himself in his room and never go out again.

He stood up, Not without difficulty. The other one did the same, both of them without saying a single world

Alastair wiped off the snowflakes that had fallen on him.

He wasn’t able to look at Matthew in the eyes; It was embarassing, and he didn’t know what to tell him. Should he thank him?

So He didn’t say anything. He motioned to him and, without checking whether the other had returned the greeting , he began making his way home

“I’m sorry”

Alastair stopped. The cold breeze messed up his hair. The dark colors of the night were slipping away, leaving the place to the lighter shades of the dawn.

“For your father, I mean”

He stiffened instantly. Without turnin around to face him, he shook his head slightly.

“Thank you, Matthew”

They both knew He wasn’t thanking him for what he had just said.

Hi! 

English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes!

Hope you’ll like it!

[pinkykitten]

the princess and the villager

- anonymous what up oreostars, if this isn't too specific i was wondering if u could write a one-shot about sokka (atla) noticing he's in love with reader when he sees her playing around with some kids and maybe confessing? i love a fluff lmao

pairing: sokka x female! reader words: 1,691 genre: fluff, comedy, one-shot, romance, requested

a/n: i hope this is what u meant lol, he has been my childhood crush so this ignited a flame again hehe, also pls check out my oc of atla named jia.

“And the beautiful princess was caught by an ugly witch. Since the princess was the most stunning girl in all the land, the witch wanted that beauty for herself. She was going to cook the girl in a stew and eat her all up.”

They all gasped.

“But the villager boy wanted to save the princess so he went after her. He saved the princess and they lived happily ever after. What she doesn’t know is the princess saved the villager boy when she said I do,” Sokka smiled wide as he looked in the distance to see you helping the older folks fish. You were his princess and he was your villager boy. Seeing you at his home made him feel the butterflies in his stomach and his cheeks grow hot. He had always had a crush on you ever since he said hi. He felt like you were the only one that understood him and made him feel like he could do anything. He trusted you with everything. 

In the tent, all the children circled around Sokka as he told his fairytales. It was their favorite time to listen to princesses and princes and dream in their tiny, wild, minds their imaginations. A child raised her hand. Curiosity gleaming in her eyes. 

“Yes?”

With some teeth missing, the little girl said, “Sokka, who is that princess you’re talking about?”

Sokka stumbled over his words. Why was her nervous about this question this little brat asked? It was only a child! 

“That’s because Sokka has a crush,” one boy stuck his tongue out, disgusted. The little girl chuckled, twisting her hair, in love with the romance. 

“No I don’t,” Sokka argued back to a short 5 year old. He was ready to lay hands on a child. “It’s just a story, that’s it.” He stomped his foot.

“Sure,” the little boy rolled his eyes. “I might have been born at night but not last night.”

Sokka eyed him up and down, “you sure about that.”

“Hey guys! What’s going on over here?” You shook from the cold, blowing hot air into your hands. 

The little boy was about to say something but Sokka covered his mouth with a hard slap. His voice was muffled by Sokka’s glove as Sokka chuckled nervously. “The kids were just leaving. These little joy’s.” He gritted his teeth, eyeing the kids. “They are getting a little tired, they may need to take naps.”

All the kids whined and complained. “Well, I have an idea. I was going to say how about I teach the kids how to make the bracelets with those colorful beads. I think they would really like it.”

The kids fist bumped and cheered. “I don’t know, they might eat the beads,” Sokka replied. 

Everyone paused and glared at Sokka. 

“I think they’ll be fine,” you kneeled down in the snow, in front of the little girl. “What do you think?”

The little girl giggled, “I want to do blue because that’s the princess favorite color.”

Sokka almost shouted at the kid but you gave him a questioning look, “what princess? What is she talking about?”

Sokka knew your favorite color was blue and he had told the kids that. I guess they figured out that you were his crush. He needed to think again whenever he spilled the beans about his love for you. “I don’t know,” Sokka pushed the kids out of the tent. “These kids I think have been eating too much fish.”

“You kids go on ahead to the tent, I’ll be with you all in a second,” you warmly smiled. You pulled on Sokka’s sleeve and Sokka felt he was about to melt all the snow there from his body heat. “What’s up with you? You seem so squirmy today.”

“It’s nothing, might be I’m constipated.” Sokka blinked wildly. Why did he say that? He needed to learn to shut his mouth and not say everything that came at the top of his head. 

Suddenly, you bent over, laughing hysterically at his reply. “Sokka I love you so much.” You patted his shoulder. 

Sokka gave a stupid, love-struck grin. It sucked though that it was a I love you but in the friend zone. 

As your beautiful e/c eyes looked into Sokka’s, Sokka couldn’t help but feel such an overwhelming amount of love for you. You were a little wet from the snow and waves and seeing you in that state made Sokka question how could you get even more beautiful. It was something impossible but you made it possible. He compared you to a flower in at all times a flower was beautiful so were you. He chuckled as he saw sprinkles of snow laying atop your head and nose. How could you be so cute?! Sokka pulled you closer and flicked the snow off your head and rubbed it lightly off your nose. Your eyes landed to where his hand was at, cross-eyed, unknown to you. Sokka smiled seeing how adorable you were. You were like his little snow angel. “You got some snow on you.” He brushed it off and tickled your nose. You hated your nose but to Sokka it was perfect. “There we go,” he said as he got the rest off. 

You played with your fingers, trying to look everywhere else except at him. “Thank you.” Your body wiggled from the cold air and you wrapped your arms around your body to keep you warm. “It’s so chilly.”

“Here, I got you,” Sokka brought you to him and embraced you into his warmth. “Is this better?”

You hummed lightly at how soft his furs were and the warmth that held onto you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. He smelled so heavenly even though Katara can argue with that. She always said how he smelled like he hadn’t taken a shower in years but to you he had his own distinct smell that comforted you. 

“Um Y/N, are we going to do the bracelets?” One child came in, grossed out by your interaction. 

Startled, you kicked Sokka away and ran to the tent, shouting on your way, “who’s ready kids!”

Sokka fell back onto the snow, rubbing his behind. 

The kid laughed, “she got you good.”

“Oh that’s lovely sweetheart,” you praised the young girl as she added different shades of blue to her bracelet. It was such a blessing to you to interact with all the children. They made you laugh, smile, act and think like a kid. You felt you could do anything when you were with them. 

“H-how about mine?” One of the kids lifted his up. “It’s all the colors of poop.”

“Oh,” you had a loss for words. “How pretty.”

A child raised his hand in the air. 

“Yes?”

“I gotta go pee.”

“Oh dear,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. What you didn’t know was far away Sokka couldn’t help but see how you were with the children. He imagined himself if you and him were together. You would be the best mother ever and he day dreamed you with his children and how amazing that life would be. He felt he would be the luckiest guy on earth. How understanding you were with these children and patient made him think about his mother. Your elegance, grace, beauty, and how loving you were reminded him of his mother. He felt if his mother were here right now, she would be proud of him. Seeing you play with the kids and make them smile made him love you even more, if that was possible. He knew what he had to do that day, he just had to do it in a certain, special way. 

Sokka saw you stood up and take one of the kids away, probably he had to go pee. Now was his chance. Sokka sprinted to the kids tent and sat with them. 

“What are you doing Sokka?”

“Alright kids I’m gonna say this once and only once. I want to ask Y/N to be my girlfriend.”

The little girl gasped, “you are going to confess your love to Y/N?”

“Actually, yes, wow you’re good. I need you’re guys help though. Think you can help me?”

The little girl smirked and crossed her arms, “we thought you’d never ask.”

“I feel better.” The boy came running to you. 

“You are too much,” you patted his shoulder as you two made it back to the tent. As you rounded the corner everyone yelled out surprise. 

“What?” They gave you a jump scare. Sokka was standing in the middle of the group of kids. His smile was wide and you looked above him to see a banger with black paint on it. You looked to see that the children must of made this because they had black paint all over them. The little girl ran to you and handed you the bracelet. Your eyes made their way to what it said on the banner and you read it out loud, “Y/N,” the children all started trying to stifle their cute giggles. “I love you with all my heart, will you go on a date with me?”

Your mouth dropped open, shocked. You made your way to Sokka, grabbing his arms. “Did you make this?” 

Sokka put his forehead against yours, “yeah. You’re my girl. I can’t help it, I’d fallen in love with you. You’re so amazing and you’ve made me see how incredible this world can be. When I’m with you, I feel like I can do anything. I am such an idiot for not asking you this earlier but will you be my girlfriend Y/N-” Sokka was cut short because you pulled his furs to you, joining your lips with his. You kissed him passionately, so much that his leg lifted up full of bliss. 

“So is that a yes?” He had on a goofy grin.

You kissed his forehead, “absolutely.”

All the kids groaned, some gagged, the little girl fawned at the love she saw. 

“Wait,” the pee pee boy stopped the celebration. “So you’re saying this whole surprise wasn’t for me?”

a/n: that kid is so me omg, he is such a mood. reading other ppls fanfics tho inspire me and help me to not get writers block so i got some inspiration from my recent readings.