#the tallest man on earth - then tell me goodbye
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setmeatopthepyre · 1 year ago
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Sweeten my coffee with your morning kiss Soften my dreams with your sighs
Tell me you'll love me for a million, million years Then, if it don't work out Then you can tell me, "Goodbye"
If you must go, baby, I won't grieve But just wait a lifetime before you leave Then, if you must go I won't tell you no, no, no Just so that we can say that we tried
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bullet-prooflove · 2 months ago
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But you can’t cure a broken man or mend his gun-hot hands
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @yousigned-upforthis @trublu2u @worlds-tallest-fairy @wabi-sabi1090
Companion piece to:
1993 - You read out a letter to Lee over the phone.
A Boy from Bozeman - Lee says goodbye to the woman he loves.
The Worry Doll - Lee still keeps the worry doll you gave him.
Wild Fire - Lee tells you the truth about the wildfire.
Experiance (NSFW) - Lee's gained some experiance since the last time the two of you were together.
Blind Date - John puts the word out around town that Lee needs a wife.
Fire Wood - Lee always chops firewood when he's pissed.
Wedding Bells - You and Lee tie the knot in secret.
Until Your Dying Day - You make a promise to Lee.
Duty - Dutton men don’t marry for love.
Never Again - You promise Lee that John won't come between the two of you.
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Lee’s final moments on this earth are spent in your arms, looking into your eyes. He can’t move, he can’t speak but he can taste the salt of your tears on his lips as his life continues to ebb away into the soil beneath his body.
“You’re going to be ok.” You promise him, your fingertips chasing over his grizzled cheek. “There’s an air ambulance on the way.”
You both know it won’t be here on time, that the only reason he’s managed to hold on this long is because he wanted to see you one last time.
Kayce had known that when he’d radioed through to his father, despite the fact Lee hadn’t been able to communicate it. Rip had raced you here in one of Yellowstone trucks, you’re still wearing your night clothes, his fleece lined denim jacket thrown over the top.
You take his hand, his limp fingers coming to rest on the space where his son resides, nestled safely inside you. He may not be able to flex them but he can still feel your warmth underneath his fingertips.
“I want you to think about the house in California, about raising our son there, the future we’re going to have.” You say softly, the scent of orange blossoms flooding his senses as your forehead comes to rest upon his. “The siblings we’re going to make, the fun we’ll have trying.”
He wishes that he could have that future with you, that he could stay here on this earth but he’s slipping away, he can feel it as the night grows colder.
“I love you Lee.” You whisper against his lips as the darkness claims him. “I will always love you.”
Love Lee? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
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bokettochild · 3 years ago
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Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones
Angst! My Beloved!
Not a lot of whump here, but I put Wild through the wringer!!! Lots of BotW2 ideas and concepts here, but nothing really cannon.
Also, disclaimer: I think Flora is a wonderful person, a bit harsh and sometimes unkind, but I feel for her a lot. The prompt submitted to me however asked for her as an ass, so that's what's here, for angst reasons. THIS IS NOT HOW I PLAN ON WRITING HER NORMALLY!!!
When Wild left the Chain behind in the woods, it was with a soft smile and a hesitant wave of his right hand. It was with a gentle ‘See y’all later’ that made Warriors shake his head with a sigh while Twilight offered a wobbly grin.
He would join them again, he knew that. After all, Hylia wouldn’t have chosen him to go with them in the first place if he was only supposed to leave before they’d even really started to know what it was that they were meant to be doing.
He’d see them again, and he’d fall back into a routine with all of them, sparring with Warriors and teaching Hyrule to cook and shield surfing with Wind and learning to carve from Sky. He’d go back to sewing with Legend, to exploring with Hyrule, to learning the Ocarina with Time and teasing Twilight about his terrible singing. He could work with Four on the Sheikah Slate and experimenting with different plants he’d gathered. He would see them again, and he’d go back to being busy and smiling nearly every day.
For the time being however, he had to square his shoulders and harden his jaw as he stepped through the swirl of black that had repulsed all the others every time they tried to enter. He had to tame his mind and wild spirit and come to stand before the Princess of Hyrule in all of her stern glory and receive the scolding he was due for wandering off without permission.
He never had time to question what she meant by being gone for ‘two whole weeks’ before she was marching off towards the labs and explaining that there was a new task for them to complete.
Such a task was one that left in his mind no time for thoughts of his brothers save on the lonely nights in the sky when the islands above the clouds were silent save for the birds about him that reminded him of Sky, or when he ran across the forests and was reminded of the wolf that once ran at his side. And, alright, the tiny people in the grass and the fountains reminded him of Four and Hyrule. When the wind sang strong in his ears as he dove towards the earth from the highest places in the sky, he couldn’t help but envision a small hero whose laughter danced like the sea and who’s fingers mastered the currents of wind and sea both.
It was a lonely quest, just like his last before it, but somehow it was more painfully so, now that he knew what it was to have brothers at his side to catch a monster’s blade when he was too slow or to help him patch himself up afterwards. It was quiet when the Princess and he sat around the fires as night, she studying him as he sat still and stonelike as she worked.
The hand that had waved goodbye to his brothers now flickered green and ethereal in the night shades, iron bands clinging to the wisping appendage and acting as a bond to hold its form together. It was nothing like what he’d known or studied in the Sheikah technology, or even what he’d seen from the many worlds he’d traveled with the other, and it earned many a stare and twist of the lips from those he met and traded with during his journey.
The arm was only the first of many changes, it’s power seeping through his body and altering him before he even knew what was happening. He’d hated it at first, disliking how it changed him, made his eyes glow and his hair touch with the same ethereal shades, red bleeding through at the roots and earning him even more wary looks.
Ganon, in all his terrifying power, had been a surprising comfort during the quest, an aid to discovering his new abilities and training them to bend to his own will. The Princess had been wary of their relationship, but had accepted it when she saw what he learned to do, and every evening she would require a report of his newfound skills, as well as the occasional demonstration or examination.
It all came to an end both too soon and not soon enough.
Ganon was gone, as if he’d never been there at all, and the Princess was as cold as ever even after their second adventure at each other's sides. And now there was no use for the abilities that had fused to his soul like the arm had to his flesh. He’d asked Purah if there was something that could be done to restore his body to its normal Hylian state, without the glowing limb that earned his only stares and insults from the village people, but the Princess had overheard it and declared that such a thing should not even be attempted.
“You don’t understand, Link. Don’t be foolish! We have here a scientific marvel ready for our investigation and exploration and you want to get rid of it just because it looks odd?”
He’s shuffled his feet slowly, resisting the impulse to rub at his chest where the Hylian part of him ended and the eldritch horror began. “I can’t live like  Hylian anymore.”
“Because you aren’t one!” Her Highness rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Sir Knight, after everything I certainly doubt that Hylian even applies to you anymore! Hylians do not possess the qualities that you now do, and they most certainly do not travel through stone or time or any other such thing at will. Think would you! You’re something else entirely, and I intend to find out what that is!”
Purah had frowned at that, eyes full of sorrow as they met his own with an apologetic sigh. But there was nothing the de-aged scientist could really say against the royal Sovreign of Hyrule, not as a Sheikah sworn to the service of the royal family. The woman/girl had offered him a sympathetic pat on the head later after climbing up to reach high enough to do so, as well as a few dumplings that Paya had sent on her grandmother’s behalf the day before. It was a welcome gesture, but amounted to so little on the grand scale of life. Not when so many others he had once called his friends had so blatantly rejected the mere sight of him.
Bolson and the other carpenters shied away from him with harsh whispers as they spat insults across the distance.
‘Half-blood’.
‘Gerudo Bastard’.
‘Freak’.
‘Demon’.
There were favorite insults spread from stable to stable and up and coming village to up and coming town and slowly all of Hyrule knew of the monster that had once been the hero. Gossip abounded, and he couldn’t even turn to shield his face with his hood without drawing attention to his arm.
It was only the koroks that welcomed him, themselves all too accustomed to the strange and ethereal. Them and the blupees.
Maybe it was the knowledge of how it felt to be shot at for his oddness that allowed him to ease into the graces of the flighty animals. And maybe it was his lonely heart crying for comfort, but when nestled in their midst, it almost reminded him of how it felt to be hugged by the salty veteran, on the rare occasional that the pink-haired hero had let down his guard.
The fairy’s tangled themselves in his hair and the blupees gathered at his feet, koroks dancing around him and flying to his side as if he was some sort of forest god, but the strange rise of his spirits in their presence shattered the instant a traveler caught sight of him.
Arrows and fire, once his favorite of weapons, were turned against him as words in every language of the New Hyrule had burst from the mouths of its people, and like his namesake, he ran before them, darting through the forest and fading in amidst the trees, hiding, incorporeal and translucent within the halls of the forest as those he’d once seen as allies pushed him away.
He’d begged the new Queen for aid, for relief or even just a word to the people that he wasn’t the evil they had come to think he was, but she only waved him aside with a purse of her lips. “You are not meant to be here without first asking.” The Child of Hylia declared, eyes as cold as the Shrine’s waters themself. “And why should I make a declaration on behalf of a man who refuses to even speak to me properly? You come groveling like a worm, yet for years it was I who you ignored. See how it feels, Sir Hero, to be the one left helpless at the hands of the country. Know what it is to be scorned by those who you thought would love you.”
He’d barely made it out of the window before the trainee guards of the newly repaired Hyrule Castle had caught him and Queen Zelda Diana Hyrule had stared after him with eyes colder than Hebra’s tallest peaks.
It was the Father Tree -the Deku Tree as the Queen had called it, but the koroks laughed at him for using the name, so he’d adjusted in kind- who suggested that he hide the changes, and he’d begun to wander Hyrule as much as possible to find the materials he would have needed.
The Queen still required his presence regularly so she could inspect him; her love of science no ways tainted as to stop her from ordering him to appear regularly, as there was now no need or safety in his acting as her guard. The Queen sought her people’s respect, and to employ such a being as himself, not Hylian and not quite mortal, would be to spark fear in the people. Indeed, when he skirted villages, he would wince at word of ‘the queen’s monster’ as gossip was traded. Those who didn’t see him themselves knew him as a beast of feral nature who lived amid the lost woods and destroyed any who came close.
“A specter that glows with the light of the shrines.” They would tell each other over campfires. “It has eyes like a ghost, empty and lost, with no care for humanity or Hylia’s chosen. They say it was once the Hero of this world, but he died ages ago.”
“I heard it’s the body, possessed by a being beyond this realm, a monster escaped from the edges of reality that tried to hide in our midst but corrupted it’s host so that it only scares away others, leaving it roam the earth in a shattered body. If you get too close to it though, it’ll take your instead.”
He’d stayed away from towns after that.
The blupees and koroks had been happy to help him to find what he needed to hide among the Hylians should he wish though, and two in particular guided him; the korok swinging little twigs like they were batons and humming swinging little shanties as it hopped along the path, the blupee snorting softly and nipping at his heels when he wandered too far, unnatural purple eyes staring up at him with something that was fondness and a reprimand all at once, and in their care he’d made his way across the land of Hyrule to find what would be needed to return to his once life.
The fairies and their Great cousins had been welcome help, and in time, he’d been able to walk amid the populace of Hyrule like any other, as long as he kept a long cloak about him and his hair pulled back to hide where the roots would begin showing again in gold and ethereal blue.
Once Hyrule had talked about needing to hide in his world, about the curse that followed him and made the Hylian people afraid. He’d thought it bizarre and ridiculous of the people at the time, but now he understood what it was to live it.
When the portal opened beneath his feet the day that the Queen had reprimanded him for concealing and potentially damaging the strange limb, startling the Skeikah scientists and Queen both, he’d nearly cried tears of relief.
He was going away, somewhere where he wasn’t a science project and where, unless they traveled to his world’s future, no one would know how much he had changed. His copy of the slate had enough hair dye to last him a few months, and he was certain he could make more over time, and as long as he continued wearing the tunics and gloves the fairies had helped him to adjust to hide the glow the others would probably never catch on. Or well, he could extend it anyway.
His brothers greeted him with open arms and teary eyes, and in a strange parallel to his adventure, he found himself thinking of blupees when Legend had curled against him, stiff and cold on the outside, but with fingers that clutched his tunic just a bit too tight to really be reluctant. And Four, Hyrule and Wind’s exuberant hugs and chatter brought to mind tiny forest people and koroks with twigs for batons.
It was good to be home.
It was good to cook for other people again, and they were glad to have him cook for them, even if his fondness for both Gerudo spiced dishes and fae like sweet things had increased exponentially during his newest adventure. It was good to fight at their sides, even if it was strange to once again have to take others into account before he could select a weapon. It was good to sit around a fire and talk with the others too, but that was perhaps the hardest one; it had been ages since he’d had a proper two-way conversation with anything other than a tree or a korok, and neither of those was good at either staying awake or staying focused for very long.
There were some harder things to adjust to though. Fire, for one. Unlike before when he’d have been happy to burn an enemy camp to the ground, now he was wary of using faming weapons or spreading heat further than necessary. The same went for hunting; he couldn’t bring himself to shoot an animal unless it attacked first or they needed the meat it would provide, and even then, he felt a bit bad for doing so. Is this what Twilight had felt like? Is this why the rancher never liked hunting? Because he too knew what it was like to be on the other end of the bow?
But the hardest thing by far to readjust to was his name.
‘Wild’ they had called him again, and after months of ‘the wild one’, ‘wild beast’, ‘monster’ and every other insult, slur or title that had been used on him, it made him flinch ever so slightly at the words. And unlike the other things where his brothers dismissed it as a change caused by his adventure or an increase of maturity, it was something that the others seemed to either not notice or to excuse as situational.
He had adapted though, learned to keep a smile on his face where blankness had once been required in his knightly duties, and the more he wore the mask the easier it was to put on again.
He’d reveled in traveling across time again, in dancing through battles and exploring the world without the Queen reprimanding him in her cold tones to stop wandering off. He’d pushed himself to learn more music in the last adventure, and even if his experience was more with what few instruments Ganon had had time to help him learn, he’d enjoyed sitting down with the others and borrowing one or another instrument to play a tune and sometimes he even got to sing.
He fell to comfortably into his role though, even with the changes, and he hadn’t even noticed when they’d come back to his world. To be fair, it was different in the daytime, and Hyrule had changed so much in the absence of her hero as he hid himself away from the eyes of civilization. Towns and roads had sprung up where there had only been fields before, and the Guardians that had littered the land had all been dug up and hauled to the castle to be either restored or destroyed by the Sheikah, depending on what Queen Zelda decided after she looked at them herself. The world was so different to him, so unlike that which he knew, that he’d failed to keep as alert as he ought to have been when he wandered about an open market with the others, laughing and chattering away with the other younger ones as Time and Legend herded them towards the needed stalls.
It was a traveler that was his downfall, a man who’d seen the Monster Hero and had been among the first to discover the disguise he wore.
No questions were asked when the word spread, and Wild hadn’t caught on to the whispers until a stone had struck his cheek and he was stumbling forwards on the path.
“Wild!” Twilight was at his side in a minute, Time right after him as Legend launched a barrage of insults at the guilty party who’d thrown the thing.
“’m fine.” He was careful to wipe the blood away with his cloak, holding the fabric to the wound to prevent bluish blood seeping down his face and exposing him to his brothers. He wanted to keep them as long as possible and proving himself to be a monster, not even Hylian, would surely have them turning their backs on him.
“Get away from him!” A woman scolded, grabbing ahold of two of the younger heroes while several other shoppers had like ways grabbed Legend and Sky. “Are you dears alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“Freaking what?” Legend shrieked. “Who’s the injured party here?”
“I’d avoid that thing, son.” A man huffed through a frankly walrus like mustache, eyes hard as they trailed to where Wild stood, cloak still pressed to his cheek as he attempted to wave off a fussing Twilight and Time. “It’s not natural. Sure, it looks like a normal Hylian, but that’s just an effective ruse.”
Another villager nodded. “It’s one of the Calamity’s puppets, a Gerudo-Bastard set on destroying the kingdom!”
“He’s the freaking hero!” Legend shrieked, barely being held back by a steely eyed Sky. “He saved all your freaking asses and all you can do is insult his flipping guts? Who’s the-”
“Enough.” There were few times that Sky’s voice reached levels worse than Twilight’s growls, but the stern command, regal and firm, froze all present as the man stiffened with a cold nod towards the villagers. “I see we are unwelcome here, and with that being the case it would be wise to spend our rupees elsewhere. Legend,” A tug to the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s join the others and be out of their hair. If they cannot be welcoming and kind to our brother than they will not receive our patronage.” And like a swan gathering it’s cygnets, Sky swept down the street, cape fluttering as he ushered the rest of them out of the town and back to the safety of the wilds. The village stared after them with wide eyes, as if they’d just been judged by a breathing god.
The stiffness in Sky’s shoulders faded as they neared the edge of the forest, and instantly the Chosen Hero been tutting over Wild, gently but firmly prying his hand away from his face with a kind smile that almost set Wild at ease. Almost.
“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”
“Still.” Sky crooned softly. “I’d rather we clean it up now and make sure it’s nothing worse than let it sit and get infected later.”
And though he’d tried to fight, his single Hylian hand was no match for the firm grip of the Skyloftian, and within minutes his face was exposed to the shocked faces and flickering eyes of his brothers.
“It’s blue...” Wind breathed as Hyrule darted forwards, hands already glowing softly only for them to stutter to a stop over Wild’s skin.
“It’s... Wild, why is your blood- why is-” The healer’s eyes had flickered golden for a moment, wide as they stared up at him. “What happened to you-”
“What the freak!” Legend had startled, blinking in surprise as he stared. “Your eyes are glowing!”
Shit! The healing properties of the arm had already taken affect and it was making everything act up all weird! He shot a glance down at his arm, one hand raising to tangle in the long hair he couldn’t even see at the moment, praying silently beneath his breath that nothing was showing through. It wasn’t, but that didn’t change how Hyrule had come to fixate on his right arm, or how the healer's fingers hovered over it sparking and eyes twinkling as he whispered softly under his breath.
“Wild.” Time had sighed. “I think this one is going to need an explanation.”
All the breath left his lung in instants.
He’d panicked to say the least and Time had eventually shooed the others away to make camp as the eldest hero had sat at his side, waiting silently for him to regulate his breathing. Touch was too much right now, and any attempts from the others to ease him down or help him level out his breathes had only made him panic more. But when at last his blue eyes blinked back to clarity it was to see Time sitting at his side, a gentle tune wafting from the Ocarina at his lips.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered, trying his hardest not to startle Time or otherwise make the situation worse. “I should have said something, I know. I just- missed being Wild and I wanted to come back and be normal and I didn’t want to-”
“It’s alright.” Time’s voice rumbled softly, a single blue eye turning to him with a pained look, even as the man offered him a hint of a smile. “None of us talk about our adventures either.”
“Yes, but you’re people.” He sighed, rubbing the fingers of his glove together. “You’re allowed to choose things.”
There was pain in Time’s voice when their leader answered. “And you’re not?”
“I’m not Hylia anymore.” He whispered. “I don’t count.”
“You count to us.”
“That’s because you don’t know.”
Time shifted, turning to face him fully as the ocarina was set firmly in the grass. “That’s because you’re family and we care. Wild, I don’t care if Demise himself named you the king of the dead, you’re still my kid and Nayru knows I’m not going to let you go without a fight. If that means fighting you, alright, but you’d best better believe that no amount of physical or mental changes will break the bonds we all have with you.”
Something, something damaged and crushed and stitched up and torn open again clenched inside of him, tears pricking at his eyes as he stared up at Time’s royal blue gaze. “W-what?”
“You could be granted godhood, made a monster, I don’t care. You’re ours and you’ll have to deal with that.” Time smiled, warm even with the pain in his eyes as he looked down at him. “So how about you start again, maybe with the facts rather than the insults. Or,” Time softened, brows furrowing lightly. “If you want, we can just sit here and you can choose to talk about this later. We do need to know, so we can help you and keep you safe, but you don’t have to tell us right now. You can take some time to figure out what you want to say if you need.”
And, well, shoot him, but Time’s arms had always been a safe place and there was one thing he’d wanted more than anything since he had come back. Wild threw himself into his grand-mentor's arms with a soft sob, clutching tightly to the other, ignoring the armor and its sharp points and awkward shapes as he tried to hold back all the emotions swirling in his chest.
Time’s arms folding around him broke the floodgates though, and when the man’s hand had stroked through his shortened hair, he’d had to bury his face in Tim’s neck to muffle his sobs.
“There, there,” Time hummed softly, rocking slowly as he held the broken wild hero. “Let it out, little one. I have you, I’ve got you and I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”
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biqherosix · 4 years ago
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okey super duper quick question!! you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to! but since we never got official heights for the voltron characters (yikes 😔) do you have an opinion on how tall they might be? something that i noticed was how tall galra are! đŸ˜±
ohhh that's a really good question !! unfortunately they couldn't bless us with canon heights like the dragon prince did, but i certainly have my headcanons !! hope you're not overwhelmed by the end of this. and remember, these are my opinions, so feel free to disagree !! just no hate please :)
in canon, the galra are about nine to ten feet, so for reference krolia and ulaz who have stood side by side with the paladins is a start. shiro is the tallest of team voltron and doesn't stand far off from ulaz, so i'd say he's like 6'5, maybe 6'6?? either way the mans is eligible to be a pro ball player
everyone else i'm bullshitting because we don't have enough worldbuilding, but hunk is at most, 6'3 (this will make sense in a bit, trust me). coran is 6'2, whilst allura is 5'8 (alteans are taller, tell me different) while i imagine pidge to be 5'2
now, i saved keith and lance for last because these two are complicated if i do say so myself. we know keith spent at least two years in an abyss, therefore aging and earning his second growth spurt. to my knowledge, him and lance are roughly the same height in season one, but he's taller by his epic (and hot af) return in the season six finale. so for now, their pre season six heights would be 5'10 (lance) and 5'7 (keith).
however, once they get back on earth, they've slowly started aging, leading me to believe lance finally got his second growth spurt in between seasons seven and eight (the last of team voltron to, imo). in allura's goodbye, he appears to be way taller than her compared to the scene in which he catches her in the pilot. like way taller (which is why i'm analyzing this in the first place; it needs to be talked about.) so by the end of the show, keith and lance's heights have changed, with lance only slightly taller than keith (though both are shorter than hunk), but still enough for him to be salty. so i'd give it an estimate of 6'1 (lance) and 5'11 (keith)
tldr: shiro is 6'5 to 6'6, hunk is 6'3, coran is 6'2, allura is 5'8, pidge is 5'2, lance is 6'1, and keith is 5'11 (didn't take his boots into account due to the fact he didn't wear them after season four)
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xxsovereignsarayaxx · 3 years ago
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Fifty Shades of Mikaelson: Shade 2
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Authors Note: Ok so my original plan was to release Shade 2 and Shade 3 after Shade 1 but then I realised that there bits in Shade 2 and 3 that could add to the upcoming chapters for the trilogy. Everything in this AU is connected so you’ll get even more of a story.  Word Count: 1877 Warnings: None. Yet. Pairing: Kol X Reader
Fifty Shades Tag List: @xxwritemeastoryxx​ @tomarisela​ @akshi8278​
Missed Shade 1? Catch up from the beginning chapters for all Shades will be updated in the upcoming weeks/months. 
Richmond Virginia is the home to Mikaelson Enterprises, one of the largest companies in the US to date, with countless connections across the country and the world. After receiving the company from the untimely death of their parents and younger brother Henrik the six remaining siblings all took a share and equal role within the company. 
The loss of their parents and younger brother was hard on the remaining family and became so tough on Freya and Finn that they ultimately took a step back from public eye of the company and became silent partners, this allowed Elijah, Niklaus, Kol and Rebekah to have a free rein on the company so to speak.
What made Mikaelson Enterprises different to all the others was the fact that it didn’t have one sole purpose. The company originally thrived at investing low market sales. Rather than take the risk and invest in the higher term stock markets each sibling took to different sectors and reaped the rewards of their own doing which allowed them to endeavour into other opportunities.
Each sibling was different, Rebekah stuck to fashion. Her aim was that she wanted people to look great whilst not breaking the bank and so she worked with a large team of designers to manufacture a line of clothing that was stylish while being at affordable prices. Kol and Niklaus went into business together to create the bourbon of bourbons, wanting to create a new brand and enjoying the odd glass or two led them to a likely partnership. Elijah was different compared to his other siblings rather than go out into the world and create a new product he used his studies and degree and built a highly respectable law firm. And each separate business venture was all under the same roof in the tallest building in the city.
Richmond was the also the home to Salvatore Industries and happened to be one of the biggest competitors to Mikaelson Enterprises and being the savvy independent business woman I was I often used their constant feud to my advantages, whilst they were always trying to outdo one another it often allowed me to swoop in and close whatever deal or buy out other small businesses they had been competing for, so I could add them to my small arsenal and ever growing empire. And for the majority of the time it worked. Much to the dismay of my rivals. But with me plucking opportunities from the sky showed both the Mikaelson’s and the Salvatore’s that I was not a woman to be messed with.
I ran my own distillery and bottling company, a much smaller one at that. But it was still able to compete with the high demand of the other much larger companies and I was able to keep up with distributing to bars in and around the city. I was always around alcohol as a child but that was because my parents ran their own bar and when I was old enough I worked part time to help pay for my studies at business school. By the young ripe age of twenty five I created my own brand of vodka, with its smoother taste and lighter afterburn it was an instant hit and by twenty six I bought my first distillery and opened up my office later in that year. Here I was months later enjoying the views from my office building. I often loved taking a step back and just observing others. There was just something about people-watching that was so satisfying and calming, and the best place to do that was from the large windows in the meeting room. As I took a sip of the ice cold water in my hand I heard the intercom buzz through.
“Y/N, your three o’clock is here.” Gia, my secretary informed me from the intercom.
Taking a step back from the window I turned and reached over and pressed the button to speak. “Thank you, Gia. Why don’t you finish early for the day? I can wrap things up here.” 
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying?” 
“No, no. Go home early today Gia, you’ve earned it. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I replied to her in a sincere voice. 
The glass doors to the meeting room opened and my eyes looked upwards at the man walking into the room.  
“Kol.” I say playfully, as the door slowly closes shut.
“Now I thought you and your brother were coming to this meeting, I wanted to finally meet both of the brains behind Hybrid in person. But I must say I’m impressed, your burst onto the liquor scene seems to have lasted. Now what can I do for you?” I added, raising an eyebrow as I gestured for him to take a seat at the large table. 
“Nik’s sources tell me that you recently purchased ‘The Compound Distillery’ from under our noses.” Kol starts as he takes a seat at the table.
“By Nik’s sources? You must mean Elijah. But it’s nice to see you too Kol. Regarding ‘The Compound’ you and your lawyers were taking far too long with the negotiations. I just so happened to arrive just in time to help speed the proceedings up.” I interrupted with a sly smile, fluttering my eyelashes I took another sip from my glass.
“Drinking on the job are we?” He asked, trying to change the subject teasing me as I walked around the room.
“Just water. I like to have a clear head especially when I have my business rivals enter through my door.”
“What did you offer them?” He asked, propping up his elbows.
“You’ve always been a curious one. Alright I’ll tell you. They wanted a quick sale but didn't get the asking price they wanted however, so in return for the lower price I just kept all of their employees so the lucky souls now all work for me.” I replied, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table.
“I don’t mean to pry but what are you here for Kol? If you're here to ask questions then we could've easily had this meeting on the phone.”
“I’ve come to buy you out.” He stated. 
“My my aren’t we feeling bold?” I replied with a laugh, eyeing him up and down. “But I’ll give you a simple answer. No.” 
Flashing me a smile. “I thought you would say that.”
“Then why ask?”
“Simple psychology darling, because I now have a better chance of getting a yes with my next question.” 
“Oh? And what would that be?” I asked tilting my head ever so slightly. 
“Join me for dinner.” 
“Why on earth would I say yes to that?” I asked, licking my bottom lip.
“I enjoy your company darling. And perhaps we could get better acquainted to strike up a deal for the future.” Kol replied, shifting in his seat. 
“Don’t they teach you at business school to not mix business with pleasure?” I purred with a seductive tone. 
“Whilst you were in that lecture I must have missed that one, so darling what do you say?” 
“Alright you’ve convinced me. But it’s strictly business.”
“Course darling.” 
Kol left the my meeting room shortly after but made sure to slide his business card over the desk his way of giving me his mobile number in the most subtle way possible, however Kol Mikaelson and subtle don’t go together one bit. Running a hand through my Y/H/C tugging on a few of the strands that had gotten knotted during the day. Whenever Kol called me ‘darling’ it did things to me that I would never admit to. 
“He’s not changed since the day we met as business school.” I said to myself with a smile.
Leaving the meeting room and walking back to my office, I turned the phone to face me and picked up the receiver holding it in my hand whilst I used the other to dial a number. 
“Hello, Salvatore Industries Elena speaking how can I help you?” 
“Hi Elena it’s Y/N is it possible to speak with Damon please?” I asked.
“Of course I’ll put you through.”
“Eternal stud speaking.” Damon said as I was transferred to his line.
 “It is really a good thing that you pay a whole lot more than to what Mason Lockwood offered me.” 
“You love me really.” He teased.
“Sure it’s that and not the stacks of cash I get put into my account each month. Just checking you wanted double the amount sent over to the bar tomorrow.” 
“It's the main thing I sell on student nights so I gotta keep up with the demand, any chance you’ll be doing different flavours in the future?” Damon asked.
“You’ll be the first person to know when I do, you can even be my taste tester.” 
“Speaking of the delivery Bob-Bon will be signing for it tomorrow. Me and Elena have a OBGYN appointment.”
“I’ll be sure to let Ric know. But between working with your brother and owning a bar on the side I’m surprised how you even had the time to get Elena pregnant.” I replied with a giggle.
“I always find the time for those special business meetings, if you catch my drift.” 
“And now I’m disgusted by you.” I said faking a gagging sound.
“C’mon Y/NN, thought you would have gotten used to my good looks, my style, my charm and my unflinching ability to listen to Taylor Swift.”
“Goodbye Damon.” I shouted and put the phone down and back in the base. 
I moved the phone back in its usual spot on my desk and started to pack away my laptop and other bits I wanted to do at home, as I was looking for a marketing plan in my desk drawer I heard my office door open.
“What is the point of owning a phone if I can never reach you on it?”
I smiled as I saw my best friend in the doorway.
“Bekah...You know I have an empire to run.” I teased, grinning at her.
“And causing mayhem to where my brothers are concerned no less. You have no idea what I have to listen to especially when we have dinner each and every night.” She replied, crossing her arms.
“Well if they’re talking about me then I really must be making a name for myself, you should understand that being a woman in business isn’t as easy as it looks.” I told her, walking to her and bringing her into a hug. 
As the two of us embraced in our hug, she pulled away. “Speaking of business. I have some exciting news.” She said excitedly.
“Your new line is ready?” I asked, sounding hopeful.
“Almost. But I wanted to get some promo shoots out for the public and I wanted you to be the model!”
I looked at her shocked. “Shut. Up.” 
“I’m serious. You’re a strong woman in ever growing business, you earned everything you have today and what better person to have showcasing my line is you. We need to have a dinner date to celebrate!” 
“Oh speaking of dinner. I have gossip, how about we take this to the nearest bar?” 
Feedback makes me a better writer and encourages me to write more and often! 
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adz · 4 years ago
Text
in case you were needing it, here is my attempt at creating a comprehensive, mostly chronological list of every song sufjan stevens wrote/released as a solo act
A Sun Came We Are What You Say A Winner Needs a Wand Rake Siamese Twins Demetrius Dumb I Sound Wordsworth’s Ridge Belly Button Rice Pudding A Loverless Bed (Without Remission) Godzuki Super Sexy Woman The Oracle Said Wander Happy Birthday Jason Kill Ya Leil A Sun Came Satan’s Saxophones
Eye of the Beholder All Delighted People
8.21: A Blue Bunny Compilation Woman at the Well Far Physician’s Son
Seen Unseen Damascus
Enjoy Your Rabbit Year of the Asthmatic Cat Year of the Monkey Year of the Rat Year of the Ox Year of the Boar Year of the Tiger Year of the Snake Year of the Sheep Year of the Rooster Year of the Dragon Year of the Rabbit Year of the Dog Year of the Horse Year of Our Lord
To Spirit Back the Mews God’ll Ne’er Let You Down Bushwick Junkie I Can’t Even Life My Head
Michigan Flint All Good Naysayers For the Widows in Paradise Say Yes! To M!ch!gan! The Upper Peninsula Tahquamenon Falls Holland Detroit Romulus Alanson, Crooked River Sleeping Bear, Sault Saint Marie They Also Mourn Oh God, Where Are You Now? Redford Vito’s Ordination Song --- Marching Band Pickerel Lake Niagara Falls Presidents and Magistrates Wolverine
Hope Isn’t a Word Borderline
Metaphysics for Beginners How Can the Stone Remain?
Seven Swans All the Trees The Dress Looks Nice on You In the Devil’s Territory To Be Alone with You Abraham Sister Size Too Small We Won’t Need Legs to Stand A Good Man Is Hard to Find He Woke Me Up Again Seven Swans The Transfiguration --- I Went Dancing with My Sister Waste of What Your Kids Won’t Have Illinois Concerning the UFO Sighting The Black Hawk War Come On! Feel the Illinoise! John Wayne Gacy, Jr. Jacksonville A Short Reprise Decatur One Last “Whoo-Hoo!” Go! Chicago! Go! Yeah! Casimir Pulaski Day To the Workers of the Rock River Valley Region The Man of Metropolis Prairie Fire That Wanders About A Conjunction of Drones The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades They Are Night Zombies!! Let’s Hear That String Part Again In This Temple as in the Hearts of Man The Seer’s Tower The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders Riffs and Variations Out of Egypt
NPR single The Lord God Bird
The Avalanche The Avalanche Dear Mr. Supercomputer Adlai Stevenson The Vivian Girls The Henney Buggy Band Saul Bellow Carlyle Lake Springfield The Mistress Witch from McClure Kaskaskia River Inaugural Pop Music No Man’s Land The Palm Sunday Tornado The Pick-Up The Perpetual Self For Clyde Tombaugh Pittsfield The Undivided Self
Mews Too Opie’s Funeral Song
Songs for Christmas ---I We’re Goin’ to the Country! It’s Christmas! Let’s Be Glad! ---II Put The Lights On The Tree Only at Christmas Time ---III Come On! Let’s Boogey to the Elf Dance! That Was the Worst Christmas Ever Ding! Dong! All the King’s Horns ---IV Hey Guys! It’s Christmas Time! Did I Make You Cry on Christmas? (Well, You Deserved It!) The Incarnation ---V Get Behind Me, Santa! Christmas in July Jupiter Winter Sister Winter Star of Wonder The Winter Solstice
The Believer In the Words of the Governor
The BQE Prelude on the Esplanade Introductory Fanfare for the Hooper Heroes Movement I: In the Countenance of Kings Movement II: Sleeping Invader Interlude I: Dream Sequence in Subi Circumnavigation Movement III: Linear Tableau with Intersecting Surprise Movement IV: Traffic Shock Movement V: Self-Organizing Emergent Patterns Interlude II: Subi Power Waltz Interlude III: Invisible Accidents Movement VI: Isorhythmic Night Dance with Interchanges Movement VII (Finale): The Emperor of Centrifuge Postlude: Critical Mass --- The Sleeping Red Wolves
Single: Sofia’s Song
All Delighted People All Delighted People Enchanting Ghost Heirloom From the Mouth of Gabriel The Owl and the Tanager Arnika Djohariah Side D
The Age of Adz Futile Devices Too Much Age of Adz I Walked Now That I’m Older Get Real, Get Right Bad Communication Vesuvius All for Myself I Want to Be Well Impossible Soul
Silver & Gold ---VI Lumberjack Christmas The Midnight Clear St. Benjamin the Bearded One Barcarola ---VII Christmas Woman Happy Family Christmas Mysteries of the Christmas Mist Behold! The Birth of Man, the Face of Glory Ding-a-ling-a-ring-a-ling Mr. Frosty Man Make Haste to See the Baby Eternal Happiness or Woe I Am Santa’s Helper Even the Earth Will Perish ---VIII Christmas in the Room Particle Physics The Child with the Star on His Head ---IX X-mas Spirit Catcher ---X Happy Karma Christmas Justice Delivers Its Death Christmas Unicorn
Carrie & Lowell Death with Dignity Should Have Known Better All of Me Wants All of You Drawn to the Blood Eugene Fourth of July The Only Thing Carrie & Lowell John My Beloved No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross Blue Bucket of Gold
One Night Stand #1 Harsh Noise
Exploding Whale single
The Greatest Gift Wallowa Lake Monster The Greatest Gift The Hidden River of My Life City of Roses
CMBYN Singles Mystery of Love Visions of Gideon
Tonya Harding single
Lonely Man of Winter single
The Ascension Make Me An Offer I Cannot Refuse Run Away with Me Video Game Lamentations Tell Me You Love Me Die Happy Ativan Ursa Major Landslide Gilgamesh Death Star Goodbye to All That Sugar The Ascension America
Live Only Majesty Snowbird The 50 States Song Many Guides Maple River
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springtimebat · 4 years ago
Text
Halloween Halftime
Darla Sunshine first met Dennis Meadows when she was four years old. It had been Halloween and she had no friends to go trick-or-treating with. Darla had sat on her Aunt Cornelia’s porch steps, a sad and disappointed look on her face. Her crazy aunt Cornelia was going through her mortician's phase at the time and as a result, she’s been kept behind at work. They were looking after the body of a girl who’d choked on some Halloween candy. That left Darla with no one to spend the night with. She had sat there, watching her classmates pass by the front garden together, talking and giggling on the sidewalk. Some had their parents with them. Their parents. Darla Sunshine hid beneath the brim of her witch’s hat. No aunt. No friends. No parents. Even the old neighbourhood cat had gotten bored with her eventually. Darla sighed. She was at her loneliest.
She was about to get up, head back inside and tune into Halloween Halftime. Then a man walked by and stopped at the gate. He was looking at her pumpkins. Right away, Darla could tell that this man was different. Strange. Even stranger than her. For one thing, he was the tallest person she’d ever seen, his head almost reaching the branches of the old oak trees. His hair was slicked back and oily, instead of spiked like most of the boys in the neighbourhood, and as red as blood. His outfit was weird too, though Darla couldn’t quite realise why. He wore a suit, just like most men do when they go to work, with a purple spotted tie and a grey blazer. Perhaps his outfit was peculiar because Halloween had finally come and everyone else was in costume. Perhaps it was because the suit was too small for him and the blazer arms only went up to the elbows.
Whatever it was it made the man just look...off. 
“But I’m off too, sort of,” Darla thought, “And he likes my pumpkins. It was nice of him to stop and look.”
So, realizing she had nothing more interesting to do, Darla Sunshine walked up to the strange man at the gate. 
“Hello,” She called, just as she reached her pumpkin patch. The strange man looked up and noticed her for the first time. His eyes lit up and he gave Darla the first instance of what she’d later take to calling “The Dennis Meadows Smile”. It was a sweet, adoring grin that made her shiver and stand in place. It made Darla Sunshine want to leave town, leave this plane and just drift away into space. It made her want to watch him all day. 
“Are these yours?” He asked, lifting a small pumpkin with a witch’s cat carved into its face. Darla smiled, “Yes. Do you like them?”
“You’re really talented,”
“Thank you! What’s your name?”
“Dennis Meadows,” He replied, “What’s yours?”
“Darla Sunshine,”
“Fitting,”
“I know,” Darla sighed.
Dennis raised his eyebrows, “I wasn’t being sarcastic,” He looked down at her witch’s dress. Darla had cut it from old bits of fabric her aunt didn’t want anymore.
“I love your costume. Did you make that too?”
“Yes,”
“It’s beautiful. The hat suits you perfectly,” he tapped the point of her crooked hat, “You’re a very pretty witch,”
At this point, Darla stepped back into the grass, her eyes wide. This was strange. Dennis was strange. She shouldn’t get too close. He might smile again and she might end up God knows where. 
“Are you alright?”
“Yes I’m fine. I should probably go inside now. My aunt will be home soon,”
“Oh? Is she taking you trick-or-treating?”
“No. She’s too busy tonight,”
“Are you going with your friends then?”
“I don’t have any friends,”
“I don’t believe that! You seem like such a lovely girl,”
“How do you know what I’m like? You’ve only just met me. If you got to know me you’d understand,”
“Oh? Well how about I be your friend and you be mine?”
“Why would you be my friend?” Darla giggled, “You don’t know me and I don’t know you.”
“Well, if we were friends I could take you trick-or-treating,” He extended his hand towards her. His long, thin fingers were like pincers reaching out to grab her. Darla took another step or two back. Dennis withdrew his hand.
“I don’t think I should go with you. You’re still a stranger,”
“If you got to know me better, could we be friends?”
“Yes,”
“And we could go trick-or-treating together?”
“Sure,”
“Then it’s agreed. Let's shake on it,” Dennis stretched his skeletal hand again.
Darla shook it with her plump one.
A cold breeze danced around her and Dennis Meadows' eyes lit up like headlights in the dark. For a few moments, Darla felt quite lost in her own front yard. All she could see was red. Her whole body was on fire and she couldn’t stop it.
Then, Dennis let go and Darla fell back to Earth. He smiled at her again, teeth gleaming, and stepped away from the gate. 
“Deal. I’ll see you soon Darla. Enjoy Halloween.”
Darla didn’t stop to say goodbye. She ran inside the house and locked the door.
She watched him leave a few moments later, her heart thumping. He took a small pumpkin from her garden before walking away. She was too nervous to go out and grab it from him. Darla waited in the living room until her aunt Cornelia got home an hour or so later.
“How was your night,” She asked as she put her hat on the coat rack.
“Fine. Nothing unusual,” Darla lied, “How was yours?”
“Ugh awful. There are so many children choking on Halloween candy! I hate this season!”
“I know aunt Cornelia.”
“You better be careful young lady! I don’t want to find you in a morgue someday.”
“I will be.” But Darla had already climbed back into her own mind.
It would be another year until she saw Dennis Meadows again.
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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years ago
Text
“triad”
Chapter 10: the nightmare
Chapter ten, yay!!!!
Slight warnings: The main character goes through a LOT of self loathing, and has a brief suicidal thought. Also, there's like a slightly sensual implication... you'll see. Nothing too weird I just wanted to preface it with this warning.
AO3 link
“Preparations should be complete within a month. We’re gathering our best Spirit Guardians to train your Knights, and I promise that we will produce major results!”
The Heart Queen is a pretty young woman, who looks about as old as I do, her figure adorned in fine cloaks and medallions. A beauty spot beneath her lip completes her look in the most regal fashion possible. Seeing her sends a chill down my back, even though we only ever meet through a screen. The sight of the crown atop her head makes mine look a little lackluster in comparison. But none of that matters right now.
“Thank you, Lolopechka! You’ve really gone above and beyond for us.” 
Lolopechka smiles gently out at me and shakes her head. “No, you’re the one who will be helping us.”
“We help each other
 that’s what allies are for, right?” I smile up at her before turning to the others. All nine captains are here to listen to Lolopechka’s update. “In a month, please have some candidates in mind for the training. They should be the people with the most potential to move up to the 1st or 2nd stage.”
The stage system was a little confusing at first, but it didn’t take long for me to accept it as the best way to rank our magical abilities. My flame magic alone was close, if not already at stage 1. And my Dyad magic, of course, is Arcane. Arcane mages are those whose powers could probably defeat a devil already. But that’s not an excuse for me to slack off. 
The worst outcome of this situation is that the Spade Kingdom defeats everyone we send at them. We have no idea about any of Megicula’s powers except the fact that it can set curses on people. If Megicula is much stronger than we realized, then our knights will have no defence against the unknown. I’m hoping to stay out of the actual fight and command from afar. But if Megicula and the Spade Kingdom come knocking at our door

There’s a very real chance that I’ll have to fight it myself. While being seven months pregnant. 
So
 I need to be strong enough to survive that battle. It might be difficult, but I have to

I pick my hand off of my stomach, where it had been laying all this time, as I stand up after the meeting ends. 
For me
 for Julius.
And that leads me to this moment, a moment I’ve been dreading this whole meeting. Each of the captains says goodbye, filing past me and out into the corridor. I smile and nod at each of them, but extend my arm to stop the last woman from passing.
“Dorothy
 do you have a few moments?”
.
 oh god
 this is going to go badly, I already know it

“Hmm? Yes, of course!” Dorothy stops in her tracks, bouncing a bit as she turns to look up at me. I’m not the tallest, but somehow I almost have to bend over to look her in the eye. The small witch has been awake for the last few meetings, a pleasant contrast to her usual slumber. She has a cheery, bubbly personality, and a smile that almost forces my anxiety out of my mind.
Almost.
“There’s
 something I wanted to ask.”


Dorothy blinks up at me, her smile only fading slightly when she catches a glimpse of my worry through my face.
“Your dream magic
 it allows you to create anything within your Glamour World, right?”
Oh god oh god.
This is going to sound bad, I know it. But I’m on my last straw. The meditation training has gone nowhere so far, only making me stress out more and feel hopeless. 
“Yeah! Anything I want
 I can even manifest things from your mind, if you go in there. Why do you ask? Do you need me to simulate something for you?”
I’m scared of the future. Not just for me, but for the Kingdom. Each day goes by smoothly, too smoothly, and gives me too much time to worry about the war looming on our horizon. People could die, my friends could die, civilians could die. If there’s any information about the Devils laying in the Simulcian’s past, I’m sure it will help us.
Because, I know
 if anyone dies, it will be my fault. I’m the Wizard King, and I promised that I would protect this Kingdom with every ounce of my life.
Every
 single ounce.
If my death leads to our victory
 I will accept that.
“Can you
 let me see Julius?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Last night, Adeline and I stayed up late, trying our best to clear my head and sink into the meditative state I crave. As the hours passed, it got harder and harder, until I was afraid to close my eyes for even a moment.
“Maybe
 I know why it’s been so hard for you.”
I can remember how it felt as she held me, my body giving out and exhausted. I wanted to cry, to let all my emotions out, but I couldn’t.
“My grief, right?”
Grief. 
No, it’s something more than that. More than loss, more than emptiness. Something I don’t have words to describe. Yet, it’s a feeling that’s distinctly human. And maybe that’s why I can’t bring myself to emote, why I can’t let my emotions show. Because I’m not human.
Why
 why did Julius leave this to me? His Kingdom full of humans, left to someone who will never truly care about the affairs of humans?
It was then that the tears started to fall.
How
 how can you expect me to be selfless? How can you expect me to be able to protect them?
I want to protect them, I want nothing more than to die for them. To die just as Julius did, to save countless people and igraine myself as a martyr for all time.
But
 I could never do that, right?
“I

I hate myself.”
The words are sour in my mouth. Foreign. All my life, all I could ever feel towards myself was love. I loved myself, more than almost anything. But that was because Julius loved me, right? And his soul loved me too
 
But now, that love has faded, extinguished from this world along with his life.
“I hate myself
 I hate myself
”
I could hardly feel Adeline anymore, her words falling onto my deaf ears.
For a brief moment, I looked down, into the void. And it consumed me.
It’s a curse, right??? The Dyad’s curse. I flew too close to the sun, and got used to the warmth of its rays. And when I fell back to earth
 there’s nothing but the cold.
Nothing. Not the Kingdom. Not Adeline. Not my friends. Not even the baby. And not myself.
I’m the worst
 the most selfish person in this world. I stole this position from people who deserved it more than me. 
I’ll never be able to be like Julius
 never
 never

So
 what’s the point?
Why even try, if there’s nothing to build even the foundation of hope upon.
“I
 I want
”
I want to die-
Fortunately, those words don’t pass my lips. I just cry into Adeline’s shoulder as we sit on the floor of my bedroom. Julius’s cold, empty robe lays folded by my pillow like it always has.
“Grief is hard, I know that. I can’t even begin to imagine how it must feel.”
Adeline’s voice vibrates pleasantly through her chest as I lay my head against it.
“But
 maybe what you need is closure. Do you have any idea how to get there?”
Closure
 
Without closure, I’ll never be able to move on, and be strong for the Kingdom. The ultimate enemy I need to defeat isn’t Megicula; it’s me. If I can’t get over my weaknesses, I’ll never be able to protect anyone.
But how am I supposed to get closure.
If only
 there was a way to talk to him again. 
Wait

There is a way. 
Oh no

-----------------------------------
“...what?!”
Dorothy’s eyes blow open wider in shock as my words sink in. She opens and closes her mouth a few times before coming to her senses. “I
 I don’t know if that’s a good idea
”
“I know, I don’t think so either.” Embarrassed, I avert my eyes, feeling my chest start to tighten. “But
 it might help.”
That’s right
 for the good of the kingdom, I have to feel better. And if this has the slightest chance of making me feel better, I have to try it!
“Look
” I turn back towards her as I feel her dainty hand gently touch my arm. Dorothy’s cheery aura is gone, concern straining her eyes as she stares up at me. “It might make you feel worse.”

 I know that. But I don’t think I could feel any worse than I do now.
“Please
 Dorothy
”
I look down at her with pleading eyes.
She stares up at me for a long moment, then lets out a defeated sigh. “Fine
 but I’m not going in there with you.” She reaches down and takes out her Grimoire. “Is thirty minutes okay?”
I nod quickly, giving her a relieved smile. “Yes, that’s perfect
 thank you so much.”
“My pleasure.” Something tells me that she doesn’t really mean that. Dorothy gives me one more look before clearing her throat. “Here we go
 Dream Magic: Glamour World.”
A puff of mana, and the meeting room disappears. I blink my eyes a few times as the scene fades in. It’s whimsical, with clouds and sparkles of pink and purple floating through the air. “Wow
 this is Glamour World?” I turn around in place, my feet standing firmly upon their own cloud. I’ve never seen this spell purposely, and am not entirely sure how it works. But this is a landscape created for me by Dorothy, specifically for me. And soon

“Darling! There you are!”
Up until this point, I was nervous and anxious, yes, but also almost giddy at the thought of seeing Julius again. I was sure that seeing him would give me the closure I needed. If I had to, I could return to this place again and again, satiating my need for him even if it was a synthetic remedy. But the moment I hear that voice, his voice
 
My blood runs cold.
Slowly, I turn around, and see a man walking towards me. Tall, blonde, handsome, with a smile that could light up an entire room. One that could light up an entire dark life. 
And yet

I can’t bring myself to smile, or even move, as Julius runs to my side, his arms immediately pulling me into a bone-crushing embrace. After a moment, I hesitantly hug back.
This is
 wrong

He pulls back to smile down at me. His eyes still sparkle like they did in life, his unbridled joy plain upon his face. I can’t even resist smiling back, even if I can feel my heart skinking.
Because, even if I can see him, and touch him
 it’s not him. The only parts of Julius truly left on this world are a shard of a soul and a baby in my belly. This thing
 it isn’t him.
“It’s been far too long
” He smiles gently, but it still breaks my heart. Julius’s hand comes up to cup my face. “You’re the Wizard King, right?”
I blink a few times, then nod slowly. Julius laughs heartily, his eyes closing for a moment. “Well, then, you have a lot to tell me! I want to hear all about it
 but not now.”
There’s nothing I can do but stand there, petrified, as Julius leans in, his other arm snaking around my waist and pulling me closer. 
“There’s so much that I want to do with you
 now that we’re together again.”
Oh
 Julius

His lips hit mine in a hurried kiss, as if he knows this moment is fleeting, something that will never last, something that will just make the world even worse than it already is. But there’s no way he knows that; he’s just an illusion, a broken dream, despair disguised as hope.
This is

The clouds turn dark purple, like the sky before a storm. The void grows a little bigger.
But despite that, I close my eyes, and cling to his body like it’s the only thing real in this world. I kiss him back with all my might, giving into my desire, into the temptation and selfishness that threatens to destroy everything. 
... a nightmare.
“Darling?”
“Hmm?” 
I open my eyes to see him staring down at me with worry. His thumb comes up and brushes something off my cheek; a tear.
“Are you alright?”
I can feel his skin against mine now. His heat. But it’s cold.
“Yeah
 I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Julius
 please
 keep going.”
Twenty minutes later, and we still lay there together in the clouds. I still hold him, and he holds me. 
This is just like every night we spent together
 every night I slept in his arms, heard him snore away in his sleep. Forgotten sounds, sounds that echo like a curse in my soul

“So
 how is it? Being Wizard King?”
Julius is just making idle conversation, moving between subjects aimlessly. But the words Wizard King draw my attention. I look up to see him tilt his head to the side curiously, eager to hear. “Not as easy as it seems, hmm?”
“Yeah
”
Not as easy

“It’s too much paperwork
 not enough fighting! Although, I bet you’ll be doing plenty of that soon.” Julius giggles to himself. “But you’ll be great, I know it.”
“... I don’t know
”
“Hmm?” Julius frowns, his smile only fading slightly. “Why wouldn’t you? I picked you, didn’t I?” Julius reaches out and slides his hand over my head, a pat meant to be comforting, but I almost wince.
Only ten more minutes
 I just want this to end. 
“...you
”
Thick tears start to bubble up in my throat.
“...made a mistake
 I
”
The volcano erupts. My hands desperately try to cover my shame as the tears fall, my body racking with sobs.
Fuck
 FUCK THIS!
I want it to end. This nightmare- no- this life. 
But I can’t
 I’m trapped

“Darling! Ah! What is it?! Mistake!?” Julius’s hands rub my shoulders as he frantically speaks, just as he always did in life. “My sweet, you’re not a mistake! You- AH, I’m sorry! This is something I said, right? Hey, look at me-” His hand tries to grab my chin and gently make me look at him. “How do I make this right-”
“You can’t!”
I bat his hand away and sit up, his face blurry through the veil of tears in my eyes. Anger, frustration, emptiness, it’s finally all coming out, every emotion I had been suppressing until now.
“You can’t make this right
 you’re dead!” I cover my face again, not wanting to look at him right now. “You
 you died, remember?! And that’s why I’m in this mess! You
” I clench my fist, my hands dropping to my shoulders so I can hug myself. “You died
 and left me alone
”
It’s a curse
 I’m all alone. 
“Darling-”
It’s because of you
 that I hate myself. Because

“I’ll never be a good Wizard King
 I don’t want to be a good Wizard King. I just- I can never do what you did, Julius.” 
My nails start to dig into the flesh of my hand.
“Y-you
 why...”
My voice weakens, then sharply erupts again with my next words.
“Why?! Why did you tell me that you loved me more than anything?! Why would you say that, then die for the Kingdom?!”
He loved me more than he loved the Kingdom, yet he sacrificed that love for it.
He can’t answer me. I know he can’t. He’s not Julius. He doesn’t have the answers. But I keep asking anyway, desperate to let the questions out and relieve myself of their frustrations.
Julius died
 he didn’t have to die, but he did. He refused to kill Patri, he refused to save himself. A selfless act, and yet

I can’t look at that act with anything but bitterness. Because now I know, I wish he had let it burn. 
It doesn’t matter how many people died
 it doesn’t matter who was hurt. All that matters is that we were together. Yet, he betrayed that promise
 he betrayed me. 
But he was right.
Julius had no choice but to die. He had no choice but to give up on his love, right? But the thing that makes me feel the worst

“If I had been there
 in your shoes
”
I would have done the selfish thing. I know it.
I take a deep, shuddering breath. It’s quiet. 
“And now
 because you’re gone
 there’s nothing left for me.”
I relax my hand, looking down at my palm. Blood trickles out of the cuts I accidentally clenched into the skin.
“I
 I wish I could have died with you.”
For some reason, saying those words

It feels good.
I’m the Wizard King, yet I’m the most selfish person in the Kingdom. 
That’s it
 the thing I hate most about myself.
“This world is so empty without you
 there’s nothing but the memory of your love.”
My voice starts to strengthen again. I let out a breath through my nose, and my eyes close.
“I
 I want to destroy it.”
There

“A world without you
 I don’t want it to exist.”
The tears that flow now aren’t hot and angry. They’re cool
 almost refreshing.
I said it
 I admitted it

“I want to destroy this world, along with this emptiness. I want to erase it all.”
The words hang in the air, no one around to hear but Julius’s image.
And somehow
 I smile.
Why
 nothing’s changed.
But
 I said it. 
Were those words weighing me down this whole time? Maybe, my obstacle was never my grief, but my self loathing, brought on by an annoying, intrusive thought.
I’m selfish
 I know that. I’m not human. I know that. I’m evil

No. There’s no such thing as evil.
And anyway
 Julius knew all this about me. And
 he still loved me.
For the first time, I feel a pulse of warmth from within me.
His soul
 stirring.
“Darling
”
I feel a hand on my chin, and this time, I don’t resist. I let him draw my gaze back into his. My eyes widen a bit when I realize that he’s been smiling at me this whole time, a relieved, almost comforted smile, despite everything I just said.
“Do you really think
 my love is that weak?”
“...huh?”
His eyes close for a moment, as if he’s amused by my confusion. “Listen
 My love still exists in this world. And it’s so strong, it will linger for eternity.” His thumbs come up and start to wipe away more tears. “It’s out there
 I promise.”
Julius leans in, one last time, as the scene starts to fade away and I’m drawn back into the real world.
Somehow
 I know that I’ll be able to face it a little stronger than before.
Maybe this isn’t the closure of my grief. It’s closure for myself.
Because, what am I? 
I’m not human
 I don’t even know if I’m a simulcian.
I’m a soul, a soul whose ego has been shattered again and again. A girl who wants nothing more than to give in to the temptation of destruction. 
But
 now I know
 despite that, Julius loved me more than anything. He died for duty, but his love lingers on.
“You just have to find it.”
I will

I’ll find it, Julius.
And for the first time in weeks, hope blooms in my chest.
Next time!!! Chapter 11: the curse. A second decent into the Simulcian unconscious reveals something sinister: the Dyad's curse runs much deeper than anyone ever thought.
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raendown · 4 years ago
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A commission from @officerjennie for a friend! 
Pairing: TobiramaItachi Word count: 5077 Rated: T+ Summary: Itachi and Tobirama get a cat. They didn't really mean to. They certainly weren't prepared to.
Follow the link or read it under the cut!
KO-FI and commission info in the header!
Meow and Furever
They hadn’t actually intended to get a cat. If not for their own collective lack of creativity they would never have even been inside the shop that day. Social niceties dictated they bring some sort of gift to Hashirama’s house-warming party that weekend but neither of them were any good at buying gifts for other people; such was the main reason they had a long standing agreement to the limit of one gift each during the holidays. Without any better ideas they had come to the conclusion that they would instead purchase gifts for Hashirama’s many dogs. That was just the sort of cute gesture he would adore and it came with the added bonus of not disappointing any human recipients. 
So off they went to peruse through aisle upon aisle of nonsense toys that made an entire cacophony of noises when squeezed or shaken. It was standing at the end of aisle twenty-seven with a plastic hotdog between his hands that Itachi spotted the beast who would change their lives forever. 
“Tobi,” he murmured from one corner of his mouth. When the other did not respond he reached out to nudge lightly with one elbow. Tobirama grunted, looking up from comparing two different squeaky donuts. 
“What is it?”
“Look.”
He did. And what he saw was quite possibly the ugliest cat he had ever come across in his entire life. Situated behind glass in a wall of cages designed to attract potential pet parents while also keeping the animals safe, a pair of amber eyes glared back at him in a way that spelled death. Or possibly begged for treats. It was hard to tell under the absolute explosion of ginger fur and the massive jaw. 
Almost before Tobirama could process the man had even moved Itachi was across the aisle and all but pressed against the glass barrier, fingers coming up to trace patterns in the air for the angry ball of fluff to follow with its eyes. The store employee standing nearby gave them a side glance that practically smelled like a sales pitch. She watched with dollar signs in her eyes as the giant orange cat stretched out both front legs and yawned, showing off uneven teeth sticking out in all sorts of strange directions, then pattered daintily closer to the glass where it sat and resumed staring at the brave human who dared to approach.
“What on earth happened to its face?” Tobirama wondered out loud. As though it heard him, the cat turned to look at him with both ears swiveled forward as best they could over the crumpled folds of skin. Despite its obvious feline roots one could almost mistake it for a pug with a face that squished.
“Poor genetics,” the nearby employee piped up. “He was born that way. It’s put off quite a number of potential owners.” 
“I think he’s beautiful,” Itachi breathed. 
When the cat looked back in his direction he cooed and wriggled his fingers enticingly. Tobirama sighed. After several years together he knew his partner very well and he knew the look in those dark, beloved eyes. Come hell or high water they were going to take that animal home. Oh he could put up a fuss and dig in his heels, he could come up with a dozen logical arguments why they shouldn’t or couldn’t, but when Itachi really wanted something he had ways of being quite convincing. All of them were very underhanded. None of them were the sort of thing Tobirama wanted strangers to witness in the middle of a public pet shop. 
Still, he had a reputation to maintain. With as stern of an expression as he could muster he simply growled, “No.”
“But look at him!” Itachi whipped about to stare at him with wide eyes. 
“I am,” Tobirama said. “He’s as ugly as sin.”
“He’s perfect.”
“The answer is no, Itachi, we are not taking him with us. We don’t have anything for a cat at home. He would destroy the furniture we only just finished paying off!” 
Despite knowing this was a battle he would inevitably lose Tobirama folded his arms with every intention of standing his ground. 
An hour later they were trooping out the front door of the shop with half a dozen bags of assorted feline paraphernalia and a plastic carrier containing one very smug orange monster. The inside was meant to be lined with blankets for extra comfort but after the third was ruined before it could even make it halfway inside the staff decided that perhaps it was best they keep anything soft far away from those sharp claws until the thing was no longer their problem. Tobirama said a silent goodbye to the sides of his couch even as he watched Itachi settle the carrier across both knees and murmur soothingly through the grated door. Incredibly, he did not get hissed at.
For the entirety of the drive home the two new cat parents discussed their options for names. On the adoption forms Itachi had written down the first thing that came to mind simply for the sake of being able to take him home quicker but that was one thing Tobirama had successfully put his foot down on. He refused to call out ‘Butternut Squash’ whenever he inevitably got angry at the cat for something. They tossed a lot of options back and forth and by the end of the drive it was narrowed down to two different options. 
“I would have thought you’d be more excited about ‘Tang’,” Itachi mused. “It’s close enough to the word dang that you could almost feel like you’re swearing.”
“True. Unfortunately it reminds me of that awful drink powder my brothers were all obsessed with when we were young.”
“Ah yes. That would be why I rejected ‘Clifford’. I remember it a little too well from a show my own brother used to enjoy.” He frowned briefly, though it faded when his new monster gave off a sort of rumbling sound that might have been purr or growl, it was impossible to tell. 
Pulling in to the driveway, Tobirama gave a sage nod. He’d never liked that show either. “Alright so what are we going for? I’ll leave the final decision up to you; are we calling him Winston or Rohan?”
He didn’t get an answer until after they had fought their way out of the car and in to the home with their many large bags. Itachi set the carrier down on the kitchen floor and then sat beside it to coo through the door soothingly. Whether or not it worked was hard to tell. Before opening the door to let their new family member roam free he paused to crane his neck up with a smile. 
“Would you consider another option?” he asked. 
“Seriously?” Tobirama lifted one eyebrow. “We just spent half an hour narrowing this down and you want to throw in a new contender?”
“Tesla. We could call him Tesla.”
“...because all that fur makes him look like he’s been in some sort of electrical accident?” 
“Precisely.” As if to prove the point he’d already made Itachi squeezed the latch and twisted, swinging the little door open, then beamed with a parental sort of pride as their newest addition came stumping out of its carrier in a gait that reminded Tobirama very uncomfortably of his brother’s best friend. 
True to his proposed name, however, the cloud of orange fur surrounding the cat’s massive bulk stood out from his body in raggedy clumps that gave a very good impression of being recently electrocuted. After pausing to rub himself up against Itachi’s knee almost incidentally he took a few cautious steps and lifted his nose to sniff the air. His misshapen little nose wriggled in time with his ears, swiveling front and back while he tried to take in as much information as possible about this new environment. Both humans watched him take a few more steps-
Only to plop his bottom down on the linoleum and declare the whole adventure business to be too much trouble. Instead he stretched out and rolled over to put all four paws in the air. 
“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean,” Tobirama murmured. 
“Maybe that he feels safe here already?” Hesitating very briefly, Itachi reached out and dared to run his fingers through the wild hair covering the belly on offer. “Oh. Oh he’s so soft!” 
“So clumpy, you mean. I wonder when he last groomed himself.” 
His partner gave him a stern look. “Quit insulting him and just tell me whether or not you like the name!” 
“Yes, I think Tesla is a good name for him,” Tobirama gave in. It wasn’t a lie, he did think it was a good name and it definitely appealed to his nerdy side, he was just a little too fond of the way Itachi’s nose wrinkled whenever he was exasperated. He was a little too fond of many things about this man. 
Tesla himself seemed to approve of the name and he showed this by rolling heavily back on to his feet and strutting away from them both with his tail held high in the air. His short hesitant footsteps were surprisingly delicate for a creature of his size. Just as Tobirama was beginning to think that perhaps adopting him wouldn’t be quite as big of a change to their lives as he had initially suspected Tesla paused to lock his gaze on to the dishes piled up by the sink. With both of their families stopping by for visits over the past week there hadn’t been much free time to wash the dishes just yet so the stacks were getting just a little wobbly. That, of course, is precisely what caught Tesla’s attention. 
Before either of them had time to do more than gasp with prophetic despair Tesla crouched down and launched himself upwards straight towards the tallest and most wobbly stack of dishes on the countertop. It was only by the grace of some god or other that all the bowls and cups he smacked in to face first were each made of plastic. A good thing, too, as they all immediately came cascading down towards the floor amid shrieking yowls of surprise. Tesla’s little claws screeched against the kitchen floor as he landed only to shoot out of the room in fright, abandoning his new parents to the task of cleaning up his very first mess. 
Tobirama felt he was being incredibly generous by waiting until after they had spent five minutes chasing waywards cups that really wanted to roll their way to freedom before turning to his partner with both eyebrows on the upper limits of his forehead. Unfortunately for the sassy remark he’d been composing in his head, Itachi beat him to the punch. 
“He lived his whole life in that shelter,” he reasoned. “A pile of dishes is probably something he’s never seen before; he couldn’t have known that would happen!” 
“Don’t think logic will save him from my wrath every time,” Tobirama muttered. 
Gathering up as much dignity as he could, he set all his gathered dishes down and swept out of the room. Now would have been a perfect time to actually wash the dirty cutlery and so on but he was much more concerned with what else their fluffy new resident could have gotten in to. Five minutes was a long time for a cat to be loose in an unfamiliar environment. All it took was a couple of visits to any of his brothers’ homes to know that pets were their own class of natural disaster.
As it turned out, his instincts were correct. Barely two steps past the kitchen Tobirama broke out in to a run as a terrible ripping sound reached his ears. When he skidded in to the living room it was to find Tesla halfway up their living room curtains, although by the look of the long rips he’d probably made it quite a bit higher before the polyester gave up its structural integrity. Granted, those curtains were ugly as ugly as he was and only remained in the window because they’d been a gift from Itachi’s younger brother at some point, but that didn’t make the prospect of replacing them any more pleasant. 
“I should leave you there,” Tobirama snapped. Tesla wriggled until he could tilt his head for a very cute and innocent meow. 
“What happ- oh! He’s stuck! Can you hold the curtains still so I can get him down?” Itachi inched around their cluttered living room to reach the window where he began stroking down the cat’s back, hoping to sooth him. 
Tesla honestly didn’t look like he needed much soothing. He purred to have such gentle affection, a sound that could be compared to a dying lawn mower, and continued to hang in place as though such had been his intentions all along. It took the two humans working together several minutes to detangle all four sets of claws so they could set the cat back on the ground, whereupon he immediately leapt on to the couch and began kneading the blanket Mito had crocheted for Itachi as a birthday present several years back. 
“You’re not going to stop him?” Tobirama asked incredulously. “He’s going to pull out all the threads and leave holes!”
“It’s crochet, it’s already full of holes. No one will notice.” 
“Mito will notice.”
Like he’d been struck with lightning Itachi launched in to action, crawling over furniture to reach for Tesla and very gently encourage him to leave the blanket alone. Evidently having his activities interrupted was grounds for declaring war in cat language. The moment his claws were once again detached Tesla hissed wetly at them both and took off down the hall to disappear in to yet another new room. Both men hurried after him.
One cat, Tobirama thought to himself as they came to a skidding halt outside the bathroom. It was only one bloody cat. If he didn’t already know the exact devastated expression his partner would give him for doing so he would give up now and toss the bloody animal outside in to the garden. Gently, of course, because he was actually pretty fond of cats himself. But he was also fond of maintaining an orderly home life and while the cat he’d taken care of growing up had been docile, almost demure, it hadn’t exactly taken him a lot of time to realize this one would not behave the same. They may have chosen his name for the way his fur stuck out at odd angles but it was becoming very clear that Tesla had lightning in his veins as well. Tobirama could already predict many nights being awoken by an attack of ‘the zoomies’ as his brother called it.
“Ah! Tesla! Don’t eat that please!” Itachi hurried forward to rescue the bowl of sweets he kept on his side of the bed for the rare occasion he got a craving. “I don’t think those are good for you.” Tesla meowed curiously and made a valiant effort to follow the bowl, determined to continue inspecting the contents. 
“Just let him sniff it and maybe he’ll leave it alone once he knows what it is,” Tobirama suggested. 
“But what if he tries to eat one?” 
With a sigh Tobirama looked down at the cat stretched up on his hind legs and shook his head. “Then I suggest putting it inside your nightstand for now. Come on, you, let's show you where your litter box and food are. Maybe that will calm you down.” 
Tesla gave a very loud protest when he was picked up without further warning. As good as he’d been in the carrier, he didn’t seem to appreciate being swung freely through the air. Unfortunately Tobirama didn’t trust him to keep his claws to himself just yet and so he opted for holding the beast out in front of him like a stinky sack of potatoes rather than cuddling him up close as he would with any other cat. Considering the size of him it was no surprise that Tobirama’s arms began to feel the strain long before he finally made his way in to the laundry room where they planned to set up the litter, figuring this was the best place for any possible stinkiness. 
Only after he had arrived and found himself in the middle of the room did he remember that they hadn’t actually had time to set anything up just yet. 
“How much do you love me?” he asked in a flat voice. From behind he heard Itachi cough in a poor attempt at covering up a bit of laughter. 
“Enough to lock you in here with him while I go get everything ready.”
Tobirama sighed despondently. It was probably for the best. Leaving Tesla in here alone would probably result in some kind of disaster. Reluctantly and with much pouting, he agreed, watching the door close them in like a prisoner might watch the door to his jail cell slam shut. When they were alone he set Tesla on top of the washing machine and wrinkled his nose in irritation when the cat immediately began pawing at a stack of clean laundry. He supposed he should say goodbye now to the idea of ever being cat hair free again. Not even a lint roller was going to save him from this explosion of puff. 
By some merciful twist of fate it only took Itachi a few minutes to set up the food and water dishes in their kitchen and fill the litter box, something he did right outside the door. The sound of him pouring litter just a plank of wood away drove Tesla absolutely mad and set him to scratching at the door until finally Itachi opened it.
“Clearly he’s already decided which of us to attach himself to.”
“Well can you blame him?” Itachi carefully set the box down and buried his fingers in orange fur. “From the sounds of it I was the first person to ever give him a chance. Just look at this face, who could ever help loving a face like this?”
If not for the fact that he was overly aware he was making the exact same expression as the cat, Tobirama would have had some very different answers to that question. Instead he only darkened his scowl and turned away. Stupid animal. As soon as his partner spotted the thing he’d known they would end up taking it home but it was only now hitting him just how sleepless, fur-covered, and lonely his future was looking. The shame was probably the worst part. He was jealous of a cat. A cat. Well, more of an orange monster that was clearly plotting to steal all of Itachi’s time and affection away from him. 
Doing his best to consciously smooth his face in to something more neutral and unrelated to cat based jealousy, Tobirama cleared his throat. “Shouldn’t we be showing him his litter box so he knows where it is? That’s supposed to be important.” 
“Oh, right, yeah.” 
“So maybe you should put him down, then?”
“But listen to him purring
” Itachi gave him a tiny smile that blossomed in to a full grin when he laid his head down against Tesla’s side to listen to his monstrous purrs from up close. 
With a huff Tobirama nudged the litter box. “Just put him in it.”
It was already happening. The stupid beast was already stealing Itachi’s best smiles, the really soft ones normally reserved just for him when the two of them were all alone. And he was already feeling stupid for letting it get to him. Tobirama wondered if it would be a little too childish to bury the stupid thing in litter while it was still clean just to have what petty revenge he could; it wasn’t as though Tesla would really understand, after all. Stealing Itachi away wasn’t exactly premeditated. 
Nor was it real, the man was still right there and he would no doubt still have a part of his large heart reserved for the one who shared his bed, it was just that Tobirama was already fairly sure their bed had just gained another occupant. 
“Come on little one, like this!” Itachi used the litter scoop to dig through it like he was teaching a child something new. 
“I think he knows how to bury his own shit,” Tobirama grumbled. “The store said he was box trained.”
“What if this isn’t the brand they used? Change can be confusing for anyone.” 
“Oh for- I’m going to make dinner.” 
So he did. Tobirama ignored the bemused questions that followed him out in to the hall, calling back over his shoulder that keeping up with Tesla’s explorations was Itachi’s responsibility for now as he himself stomped off to the kitchen while trying not to be obvious about said stomping. 
Irritated as he was, he chose not to make anything too complicated for dinner, not wanting to let his distraction affect how well he cared for his beloved partner. He definitely had an advantage in this arena. Tesla was great and all but his paws probably weren’t all that useful in the kitchen - not to mention he would coat anything he touched in long ginger fur. Not very tasty for humans. 
Eventually as he went about his business the familiar motions of chopping and stirring and fiddling with their faulty stove dials helped center him, calming the silly emotions he hadn’t been able to help. There was something about the simple domesticity of housework that never failed to bring him back in to himself. Probably because housework didn’t require much of his brainpower and so allowed him plenty of time to work through his thoughts without any expectations or outside pressures. Tobirama opened the dishwasher to pull out his favorite set of miso bowls and admitted silently to himself that he might have overreacted to getting a cat. Sure he usually loved cats and yes he had very much enjoyed having one as a child but he and Itachi had lived alone together for close to a decade at this point, their home had become a place where he knew that the rest of the world could fade away and he could envelope himself in nothing but the quiet man who stole his heart from the very first date. It was a little embarrassing to realize that he’d grown so attached to that concept that even as simple of an addition as a pet could make him feel threatened. Itachi would love him no less. Pay him no less attention. Really there was nothing to worry about. 
Almost as though he could sense that a bit of mental peace had been reached, Itachi came wandering in to the room just as Tobirama was pulling down some glasses. He insisted on setting the table, for which Tobirama was grateful, and in only a couple of minutes they were both seated together devouring a simple yet delicious meal. The kitchen was Tobirama’s domain and his talents in that area only grew with each year. On the other hand Itachi hadn’t learned to cook until he was nearly thirty and his talents mostly included bowling water. 
When Tesla came wandering in to the room with a plaintive yowl Tobirama found it in himself not to glare at the sight of his partner leaping up immediately to guide him towards the cat dish. He supposed the animal deserved to have dinner as well and they might as well eat at the same time. A small fragment of his mental peace was shattered when Tesla began to eat, however, and he realized the stupid thing snarfed down its food with a litany of disgusting sounds almost like he were gargling it. Just because he accepted that the beast would be living here didn’t mean he had to like the thing. 
“Thank you for agreeing to let him come home with us,” Itachi said as he slid back in to his chair. Tobirama grunted. “I can’t imagine how it must have felt to stay in that place for so long with only a tiny cage to live in and never have anyone love him.” 
Rather than answer all Tobirama could do was grunt again and stir his miso aimlessly while trying not to feel guilty for fantasizing earlier about tossing the thing out. 
Dinner was quick, the clean up after even quicker, and even though it was probably a bad idea Tobirama decided that the rest of the evening would be his own, determined to ignore any shenanigans their new addition might get up to. Several people had told him over the years that he was too uptight. He would show them. Of course he knew how to relax, how to let the small things go. How much damage could one animal do in the short span of a single evening? 
After the past couple of hours he already knew the answer to that question; he chose to ignore it. 
Never having been a large fan of most popular TV shows, he spent the rest of his evening curled up in one corner of their large couch trying not to leap up and investigate every crash or yowl or quiet scolding word. Listening to his partner follow the cat around while Tesla continued learning this new environment did make him feel slightly guilty. Not guilty enough to actually go help though, not when getting the damn thing had been all Itachi’s idea. Sometimes he could be a nice guy but he certainly wasn’t that nice. Instead he combated his helpful urges by sinking farther and farther in to the cushions with every loud noise until he was all but buried between them and tried his best not to imagine what chaos was being made of his neat and orderly home. Whatever got misplaced he was sure Itachi would at least try to clean it up. 
By the time his phone went off to tell him he should probably go to bed - a daily alarm he’d been using since college when his study habits grew wildly unhealthy - his efforts to relax hadn’t been nearly as successful as he would have liked but he wasn’t feeling quite so twisted up in knots as he had been before dinner. Tobirama called a few vague words down the hall to let his partner know he was tucking in for the night, pleased to hear Itachi call back that he would follow in a few minutes. A man of his word, he was in the bedroom getting changed when Tobirama came back out of the bathroom, teeth freshly brushed and flossed. 
Since Itachi always took so much longer to perform his nightly ablutions Tobirama had plenty of time to slip under the covers and squirm about to find a comfortable position. He didn’t often move around much in his sleep but the older he got the more prone he was to aching limbs if he didn’t fall asleep in just the right position. Just as Itachi came out and crossed the room to turn out the light Tobirama at last found the perfect spot, spread out on his side just close enough to the center of the bed that when the other man crawled under the sheets he was able to fit himself right in to the cradle of Tobirama’s hips. As much as he liked to pretend that cuddling was something he only did for his partner’s benefit, it did help him sleep most days. Tobirama was grateful that slumber was such a private activity. There was no need for anyone else to know that under his gruff exterior he was nearly as sappy as his older brother. 
Like he often did, Tobirama had trouble falling asleep. Listening to the sound of Itachi’s breathing evening out relaxed him, of course, but he still found himself distressingly awake to hear the sound of their bedroom door creaking open ever so slightly. A scowl touched his face when he felt the end of the mattress dip under a tiny weight. 
“Do you really have to?” he grumbled under his breath. 
As though in answer Tesla gave a low meow and trotted a full circle around the lump their bodies made together under the covers, looking for the perfect spot to lie down. No choice could have been more surprising than the one he went for. Tobirama was left blinking rapidly at the back of Itachi’s head when he felt soft fur press up against his neck; almost immediately his entire frame was practically shaken with the force of Tesla’s raucous purring. He didn’t even like the stupid thing but of course he was the one it wanted to cuddle with as they all slept through their first night together.
That, of course, was when it hit him. He understood at last why his partner had fallen so deeply in love with this creature and why it had been so important that they take him home. If ever there had existed a cat form of Tobirama himself it would be Tesla. Coarse and unrefined, prone to explorations and a curiosity that was never quite sated, he himself was exactly the sort of person many others would pass up without a second thought. He was grumpy, he was cantankerous, and he wasn't much to look at. But at the end of the day when it was only him and the ones he loved Tobirama was as soft as melted butter. If he could purr then he certainly would have every time he fitted himself around Itachi’s warm and welcoming form. 
“Alright, fine,” he murmured, shifting so Tesla could curl around his head a little more comfortably. “You can stay. Just to be clear, though, I was still here first. And don’t you forget that.”
He didn’t get much of a reply but he wasn’t really expecting one. Tesla merely continued to purr, Itachi continued to dream, and Tobirama decided that he didn’t mind expanding his family just a little bit. Of all the possible choices for a pet it did warm him inside to know that, in a way, his partner had chosen to fall in love with him all over again. 
7 notes · View notes
svtegg · 5 years ago
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sebongies and the taeyeon songs they remind me of:
seungcheol: gravity. gravity is about finding solace, finding something to hold on to even through the hardest of storms. i firmly believe seungcheol has had to learn this the hard way, and because of this gravity reminds me so much of him. ive also personally found such a warm and safe place in the group he has lead and fronted to where they are today. he will never know how much strength i’ve gained from him, how much he has been the gravity pulling me back down to earth in those especially hard times. the song also has this hopeful and nostalgic feel, which i feels fits him. it sounds sort of like an anthem for us hopeless introverted romantics that find solace in the small gestures of affection and love. just saying i would also die for seungkwan to cover this song.
jeonghan: i am all ears. i feel like jeonghan is definitely seventeens anchor. he grounds them and guides them, in a way much different from how seungcheol does. cheol is their leader, their frontman and main man. jeonghan works the sidelines. he knows all the members inside out, easily knows all the little details about the other 12 boys, what their favorite food is or what snacks they like, what their habits are and what gets them the most frustrated. it’s a silent type of support, almost like a parent or an older sibling or relative. that silent looking out for your friends that’s almost not noticed. just like this song he’s a comforting presence in svt that always offers a hand to hold, a ear to listen or a shoulder to lean on anytime of day or night while still keeping everything lighthearted and honest. this song is actually one of my most beloved songs, the lyrics and the melody is just so comforting and i feel so safe when i listen to it and i feel that’s the kind of feeling jeonghan gives off too..
joshua: 11:11. now this song is probably my all time favorite kpop songs. period. the whole vibe of the song just screams joshua to me. the simple guitar instrumental, the plucking line, the soft percussion in the background and the effortless yet beautiful vocals that softly blends in with all the other elements. it’s a simple and beautiful song, the lyrics reflecting sadness for missing and happiness for experiencing the past, which i feel is such a joshua thing to say.. i might be over analyzing him with this though, and to be honest most of the reason why i chose this song for josh is because i want to hear him sing it, it just fits him so perfectly. a slow, simple and soft track with some sweet guitar and bittersweet lyrics sung in a soft and breathy voice. it’s just so him!!
jun: time lapse. time lapse is easily one of my favorite taeyeon songs. it holds this childish and naive undertone with such serious and beautiful lyrics about growing up and realizing life maybe isn’t what you once thought, yet still seeing the beauty in everything you’ve experienced throughout your life, and despite the hardships and the traumas you’re still able to move forward and try again. i feel like it reflects junhuis personality very well. he’s a very reflective, thoughtful, headstrong, stubborn and smart person, yet he manages to keep this amazing and childish happiness and naiveness to him that i hope he never ever looses.
soonyoung: find me. find me is such a strong song, conveying a message of making your own path, flyging as high as your wings will take you and youll find what youre looking for. it’s a little ambitious, very headstrong and fierce. even though soonyoung may not be precieved as the most fierce or ambitious member, i feel like he’s definitely one of the few in seventeen who has the most self discipline, the most ambitious ideas, the most headstrong mindset and definitely a fierce working ethic. he definitely has his insecurities, as we all do, and this song is almost like a self reassuring anthem telling yourself that no matter what you’ll be fine as long as you keep going forward. which i feel very much reflects him and his values as a person.
wonwoo: city love. i feel like wonwoo is 100% a hopeless romantic at heart. at the same time he’s very simplistic and almost brutally realistic, and i feel like i could definitely connect with him on that..despite this i still imagine that he has this very special ability to see beauty in ordinary everyday objects and things. like the reflections of lights in a puddle or the way the morning fog wraps along the tallest skyscrapers. which is exactly what city love is about. the line; “To me, the things that were meaningless before meeting you, Become new every day” gives me major wonu energy.
jihoon: feel so fine. this song i picked out just because of the lyrics. it’s obviously a beautiful song in itself, but i feel the lyrics hit especially as a song that maybe reflects a bit of the inner conflicts jihoon has endured and learned from. it starts out a little helpless, wondering how you got to this place, what happened, why can’t i be the way i wish i was and then later realizing you’re okay, you’re fine and realizing you’re living in the world you once only dreamed of. i feel especially because of how jihoon opened up about how he felt responsible for seventeens success, he felt accountable for whether or not seventeen would be a hit, if they would make it or not. and now he’s produced a three times platinum, critically acclaimed, award winning, bonsang awarded album. look at you now jihoon, look how high you’re flying. (he also mentioned in hit the road that he no longer feels this obligation and i think that is because of the growth he and the rest for the guys have experienced through these 5 years)
minghao: wine. minghao has this quality about him. he just seems like he’s experienced the world before. he’s an old soul, poetic to an extent yet such a realist. and this song is about loving the memories of a painful love and despite the hardships realizing the beauty of heartbreak. it’s poetically and beautifully heartbreaking, which i feel reflects minghao very well. especially the way taeyeon sings ‘my vintage love’ over and over and the entire feeling in the track..it’s just very minghao. idk how to explain it
mingyu: do you love me. this pick has nothing to do with lyrics, which is kinda funny because this is one of the first kind of cliche love songs on the list i think. the biggest reason why i picked this is because i feel like mingyu would actually enjoy listening to this song, i feel like it’s very mingyu-esque. a soft jazzy ballad with sweet lyrics and gorgeous backup vocals. the lyrics of course coincidentally also convey a message of a newly fallen in love person who hopes the other also feels the same way. which is such a puppylove type song, so much to the point that it makes chills run down my back in excitement. just the feeling you get when you’re newly in love i guess....
seokmin: fire. this may get some of the sonecarats out there confused. because fire is such a heartbreakingly sad song. it’s mostly about a love that’s not good for you. a fire eating you up from the inside and leaving nothing but ash. about feeling alone. but i honestly believe seokmin is one of the boys in seventeen with the most worries, the most internal pushes and pulls. i definitely feel like seokmin is a person who feels his emotions very strongly no matter if they’re happy or sad. i also honestly believe he is his own worst critic, and i wish for nothing else than for him to realize the immense talent and charisma he holds, how much of a fire he is on the outside. how much he shines and how far his warmth reaches. he’s such a star.
vernon: curtain call. this is probably one of taeyeons songs i feel is the most neutral in the feeling it gives me. it has a sort of happy yet sad quality that is kinda hard to come across. i feel like this song is mostly about being okay with how things have turned out, to say goodbye with a smile and remember the good times. and then when we meet again we’ll prepare to smile again. it’s a very calm, reflected and reasonable song which i feel is some of the core personality traits vernon possesses. i don’t think he’s neutral in the sense that he doesn’t feel things, he’s just a person who makes every situation the best it can be, which i think is in all honestly a great way to live.
seungkwan: here i am. this song is so incredibly heartbreaking. it explains the difficulty in showing your true self, masking your real feelings with happiness, smiles and laughs. being afraid of being vulnerable, yet knowing your true raw unfiltered self is just as beautiful and strong as the ideal self you show to everyone. i think seungkwan has definitely had some inner conflict with being labeled the funny one, the mood maker and the jokester of the group. there’s no way that’s not been a chip on his shoulder sometimes, and i think he’s definitely fallen more comfortably now as he’s started to grow to be more secure of himself. i hope he knows just how much carats love every side of him, not just the funny mood maker but also the seungkwan that talks about his mom and cries and the seungkwan that explains his feelings and gets angry and frustrated, the insecure and the tired. everything.
chan: i’m ok. this song is about fighting back, not taking any bullshit. giving back exactly what you got. just ignoring all the people wasting your time and following your dreams and believing in yourself to the fullest. i feel especially this line is full of lee chan energy:
“This ambiguous and lukewarm something. I don’t like playing games of push and pull. No thanks baby”..
it’s also a very sexy and powerful song, i feel like despite this technically being a pop ballad, if jihoon just remixed it slightly and chan maybe wrote a little rap verse for one of the verses it could easily have been a chan solo song, with such a strong and stand-alone type message it fits his personality perfectly. i definitely feel like chan is one of the people in the group who has full awareness of his abilities and how far he can push said abilities. he doesn’t bullshit when it really comes down to it.
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daily-dose-of-imagines · 4 years ago
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(っ◔◡◔)っ ♄ MATCHUP ♄
HELLO can i ask for a haikyuu matchup pleaseee. im 5'3, straight, light blonde hair to my hips, kinda curvy. also i’m really pale even in summer and have a lot of beauty marks on my face. i am VERY into tall guys so haikyuu is a lot for me to handle, god,,,, anyway. i’m a good mix of introverted/extroverted. i’m relatively shy, especially if a lot of attention is on me (but lowkey i love the attention/praise). basically my aesthetic is just cottagecore; i cook a lot, bake, hike, garden, collect flowers, etc. i play games and stuff and set time aside for shows, but i really love being in nature!! i used to play soccer, but i got a nasty knee injury so it’s tough for me to walk around let alone play sports ): i can just fall?? because of this? my knee just says goodbye and im on the ground. (this usually means i have a lot of bruises and cuts) so people have to Deal With That
. when they’re with me. sometimes someone has to carry me to go sit somewhere. i think its funny! also i am very very affectionate to ppl i love!!! ok im going to stop here because this is SO MUCH, im so sorry ahhh. (also you said you did spicy stuff in your rules maybe
 maybe some spice
 some zest? IM SO SORRY GOODBYE LOL)
â‹†â”ˆâ”ˆïœĄïŸŸâƒÛȘàœŽ ❀ÛȘàœŽ ❁ÛȘàœŽ ❃ÛȘàœŽ ❀ÛȘàœŽ ïŸŸïœĄâ”ˆâ”ˆâ‹†
Hell, @kawaii-cthulhu​, and thank you for requesting with us! And I hope you like this! I made it spicy just for you~because girl I LOVE ME SOME ZEST! So, you definitely don’t have to be sorry huehuheu~
I’m a sinner, forgive me  (⁄ â„â€ąâ„ê‡Žâ„â€ąâ„ ⁄)⁄
>Admin 𝕋
â‹†â”ˆâ”ˆïœĄïŸŸâƒÛȘàœŽ ❀ÛȘàœŽ ❁ÛȘàœŽ ❃ÛȘàœŽ ❀ÛȘàœŽ ïŸŸïœĄâ”ˆâ”ˆâ‹†
𝓘 đ“Œđ“±đ“Čđ“č đ”‚đ“žđ“Ÿ 𝔀đ“Čđ“œđ“±
ïŒąïœïœ‹ïœ•ïœ”ïœ 
As I was reading your description, I just KNEW that Bokuto was the one for you! Tall? Fuck, he is one of the tallest men in Haikyuu!! Handsome? Fuck yeah he is, like, damn. Nice? super duper nice, and he is this enthusiasm that just brings people in! You”re sporty? He’ll love that, because that means that Bokuto can spend time with you doing things like working out or practicing some light soccer or volleyball!
For looks, Bokuto will love the marks on your face. When he looks at you , the first thing that he will stare at all the time is the little marks; he’ll find them so fucking endearing, he’ll write bad poetry about them. He’ll want to kiss them all day everyday, so you better be prepared for that. Bokuto will also love your curvy body, he is one to think it is the most delicious meal he’ll ever eat~! Bokuto, I feel like, is a man who love a girl with long hair, only because he will think that it would be fucking sexy whenever you put it up in ponytail(he’ll get super turned on, just seeing your expose neck, he’ll want to eat you).
Bokuto will think you being so shy will be so adorable, he won’t know what to do with himself. Kiss you? Hug you? Hold your hand? Internally scream until he dies???(all of the above). He’ll love that fact that you so much into nature and how you plant flowers and be so nurturing to things like that because Bokuto hasn’t even thought of the world like that. He’ll even plant with you when he the time the too, it’ll be a cute fun little date for the both of you! And then whenever you guys have been planting for too long and you knee acts up, Bokuto will definitely be there to help you; he’ll pick you up and take you back home via piggy back ride!
OK, time for the zesty part, read at your own risk! When in the bedroom and you guys are having some good fucking fun, Bokuto will come out nowhere and start praising you, telling you have such a great body and that you the most beautiful creature to ever walk this earth, and since you like getting praised and like secretly having the attention on you, you’ll love this. And he’ll know. And he’ll take FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT( this man will make you ACT UP). Your an affectionate person, so it’s only kind of Bokuto to make sure he is just as affectionate
in between your legs
.tasting you
.making sure you felt ALL of his affectionate until you climax onto his tongue(he’ll come up for air and smirk with your juices glistening on his lips, and praise you some more). Then he will fuck you mercilessly until you are crying, and he’ll lick your tears, but will thrust harder so he can hear you scream, until your voice was hoarse and raw.
And he won’t even stop there, he’ll just progress everything more until you cum about six times and him three. This man has stamina for ages, he will COMPLETELY wreck you, and you will love every minute of it!
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thetunewillcome · 4 years ago
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firefly
Summer Omens: Day 22 (on AO3 here if you prefer)
“Hush - I know they said the end is near, but I’m still on my tallest tiptoes, spinning in my highest heels, love, shining just for you.”  - Taylor Swift, “Mirrorball”
Carrying faint tones of music and laughter, the summer evening breeze swept across the vast expanses of the Dowling’s gardens and past the patio of the gardener’s quarters, making Aziraphale shiver.  He should call it a night.  It had to be past ten o’clock.  As he watched partygoers in suits and gowns trickle out of the enormous tent set up on the lawn, shouting their goodbyes as they headed to their cars, he tried to think of anything but the conversation he had just had with Gabriel.
We have been preparing, Aziraphale.  The boy is who he is.  Nothing can change that.  Your efforts are all well and good, but when they fail, we will be ready to fight.
He sighed into the heavy air, nervous hands picking at the leaves of a shrub that needed trimming anyway.  Perhaps Gabriel was right.  They did only have a month left: Mrs. Dowling had decided 10 was old enough to do without a nanny, and fair play meant he would resign from his position, too.  After that, a year of waiting.  Perhaps the last year on Earth for any of them.  Warlock, his parents, all these generous donors invited to tonight’s benefit event, the fireflies flickering on the edge of the distant woods, the flowers that had closed their buds for the night: all would be destroyed if he failed.  On nights like this, he could feel himself about to crumble under the constant weight of it.
Just as he decided to turn in, hoping he could focus enough to read, a familiar silhouette appeared in the door of the tent, surrounded by the party’s amber glow.  A man’s shadow sidled up next to her.  She leaned over to whisper something in his ear, and the man immediately bolted out of the tent and into the darkness.  He couldn’t help but chuckle.  The woman waved farewell and left, vanishing into the night.
Would it be this way, in the end?  One final glimpse of Crowley in the distance, too far to hear any last words he had to offer, and then an empty space where he had been?  Or would he last see him on the battlefield, armed and bloodied, both of them emptied of who they had become until they were mere vessels for the fury of Heaven and Hell?
A rhythmic clicking shook him from paralyzing thoughts.  He turned to see the flash of a pale leg appearing from a long slit in a midnight black gown.  Then Nanny slid out of the shadows.  “Who are you, and what are you doing in Francis’ quarters?” she asked playfully.  He realized he’d been too distracted to put back on his Francis appearance.
“I’m not the only one who looks quite different tonight.”
The corners of her mouth tugged upwards.  “Even a nanny should be allowed a little fun at the charity event of the summer, right?”  She leaned back against the patio fence, revealing silver stiletto heels that wound their way up her ankles.  Around her neck hung a thin chain of matching silver.  Aziraphale knew he was staring, but he found the distraction so welcoming that he almost didn’t care if she noticed.  “You were summoned?” she asked, dropping her Nanny accent.
We have been preparing
 He nodded, tearing his eyes away from her.
“And?”
“Nothing new,” he said quietly.  “Just the usual reminder that they–  Well, they don’t have much confidence in my efforts.”
“Eh, what do they know?  I can tell you, with certainty, he’s not properly evil, just based on tonight.”  Aziraphale shot her a curious glance.  “Had to point out to him myself that it would be just awful if something spilled on the dance floor.  His mum’s been practicing with me for days now, brushing up on her dancing, and he almost let her make it through the evening without incident.  Disgraceful.”
A tiny light of hope flickered to life in his chest.  He could feel its warmth, faint but there, just as he could feel Crowley’s presence as she clicked closer to him.  It was enough.  It had to be.  “I’m sorry– You’ve been giving Mrs. Dowling dancing lessons?”
She shrugged.  “Just the basics.  Nothing complicated.”
“I didn’t know you could actually dance.”
“Course I can,” and with a wicked grin, she grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and stepped in close.  “Need proof?”
Four seconds passed before he could attempt an answer.  “I
 Yes,” he laughed, stunned by the nearness of her face, the touch of her hand on his shoulder, “proper dancing?  Not whatever thrashing they do in those rock concert halls you used to frequent?  I don’t believe it.”
“Well, if you’d like to see, you have to put your hand on my back.  Do you know how to do this?”
He shook himself and placed his hand on the small of her back.  “I’ll admit I’m not as practiced in this style as in others.”  And you’re terribly distracting.
They began to move, a little clumsily at first, taking turns stepping on each other’s toes, laughing and apologizing.  After a few beats, they fell into a rhythm, a simple slow sway to the muffled music coming from the tent.  “Told you,” she whispered, and there was more than dancing in those words.  I told you we could fight it.  I told you to have hope.  I told you they underestimate you.  I told you I’d be here.  I told you what we could be, how I see you.  I told you who you really are.
As the light caught her glasses, her earrings, her necklace, her smile, she shone, chasing away the darkness that had nearly consumed him.  “That you did,” he admitted quietly.  “Thank you for correcting me.”
(Previous days: sand / ice cream / burn / camp / grass / pride / bloom / sunset / freckles / sweat / festival / snooze / lavender / lightning / relax / garden / road trip / berries / independence / solstice / trail / melting)
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beemot · 5 years ago
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rules ⇄ turn your URL into song titles (because we all need a little more music in our lives)
tagged by @cryptcombat thank you !!
Orca (Wintersleep) Late Goodbye (Poets of the Fall) I Love You (Woodkid) Vampire (People In Planes) In My Veins (Andrew Belle) Arsonist's Lullabye (Hozier) Where Do We Draw the Line (Poets of the Fall) I'm a Fool to Want You (Billie Holiday) Love Is All (The Tallest Man on Earth) Desert Garden (Vast) Earth Angel (Marvin Berry And The Starlighters) Spaceman (The Killers) John 2,14 (Shivaree) Ау (Ляпос ĐąŃ€ŃƒĐ±Đ”Ń†ĐșĐŸĐč) Will You Tell Me Then (Faunts) Luisa's Bones (Crooked Fingers) If There Was No You (Brandi Carlile) No One Would Riot for Less (Bright Eyes) Emmylou (First Aid Kit)
tagging @refinedstorage @garahels @cullensbooty @minilev @mvbsva @callmeredhood @laraokms @midnightparadox @spicevalleys
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snappedsky · 5 years ago
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Fanatics 71
The kids return to Skool, and it's an eventful first day back. Previous! Next!
--
New Year, Same Sh!t
           “I cannot believe you all went to Irk without me!”
           Zim, Dib, Gaz, Pepito, and Squee glare exhaustedly at Kat- Tak’s human disguise- as she blocks the entrance to the Skool. She glares right back, much more angrily.
           “Give us a break, Tak,” Zim snaps as he shoves past her. “We’ve barely been home for a week and now we gotta go back to Skool.”            “You didn’t even tell me you were leaving!” she barks as she follows them through the busy halls. “I only found out because of Maddie. I thought we were, you know, friends.”
           “You’re right,” Squee says, “we are friends. And we should’ve at least said goodbye. We’re sorry.”
           Kat’s glare withers ever so slightly and she huffs. “Fine. So, what’s got you all so tense?”
           “A week ago we found out the Irken Empire sent assassins after us,” Dib replies, “we had no idea. If it wasn’t for Squee’s Night Terrors, they probably would’ve wiped us all out.”            “Are they Irken Bounty Hunters?” Kat asks.
           “I don’t think so,” Zim replies, “according to the Night Terrors, they were too easy to kill. Probably just academy-trained assassins.”
           “Kio’s looking into it,” Squee explains, “but we’re not sure how to handle this. Obviously we can’t just let assassins try to kill us, which is why the Night Terrors are keeping watch. But soon the Tallest will figure out the assassins failed and send stronger opponents.”
           “Well, you should’ve expected this,” Kat points out, “starting a war with the Irken Empire.”            “We saved them first,” Gaz argues, “it’s not our fault they’re sore losers.”            “And now we have to go to Skool like nothing happened,” Pepito groans.
           “Keep your heads up, team,” Zim orders, “we’re back to our normal life and we will not let the Armada ruin it.”            The others reply with uncertainty.
           “I’ll see you guys at lunch,” Gaz grunts before splitting off. The others go upstairs to their lockers.
           After everyone’s gathered their stuff, they head to homeroom at the sound of the bell. Zim and the others cluster together in desks near the window, along with Maddie. The other students quickly pick their desks as their teacher, Miss Sweeties, stands at the front of the room.
           “Welcome back to Skool, everyone,” she chimes, “and a very special welcome back to Zim, Dib, Pepito, and Squee, who, due to ‘family issues’, were unable to attend Skool last year.”
         “You guys completely skipped 11th grade,” Zita points out, “how did you not get held back?”            “Um my guardian has a
‘rapport’ with the principle,” Squee replies while Zim, Dib, and Pepito chuckle knowingly.          
            After morning announcements are played over the intercom, the students leave for their classes. Maddie and Tak wave to the boys as they split off.
           “It’s too bad we got stuck in the lower tier classes,” Dib comments, “it’ll be a smear on my record.”            “Yeah, but at least we’re all in the same classes this year,” Pepito points out.
          They arrive at their classroom and quickly pick their desks, again together near the windows. Standing behind the teacher’s desk is a younger man, pale and blond with fidgeting hands. He waits until everyone’s seated before speaking.
           “G-good morning, students,” he says in a cracking voice. “I-I am your teacher, Mr. Tense. I will be teaching you maths and sciences.”            “Who is this guy?” Pepito whispers.
           “Don’t know. I’ve never had him,” Dib replies.
           “B-because we’ll be spending a-a lot of time together, I’d like to start off by going around the room and h-hearing something about everyone,” Mr. Tense declares.
           “Oh, god,” Squee groans, rubbing his forehead.
           “We’ll start on this side of the room,” he says, pointing at Zim. “Please stand up and state your name and-and a fact about yourself.”
           Zim stands up dutifully. “I am Zim and I will rule you all! But don’t worry, I’ll be a benevolent leader.”
           “Uh o-okay, thank you, Zim,” Mr. Tense says as Zim sits back down and Pepito stands up.
           “I’m Pepito, and I’m gonna be a rock star,” he says.
           “Oh, a musician!” Mr. Tense smiles, “how nice.”
           Pepito smiles as he sits down and the student behind him goes next, a cheerleader who goes on for a few minutes about how she loves manicures. As they continue down the row, Squee digs his hand into his forehead, dreading his turn.
           Finally it’s the next row’s turn, and Dib starts off. “I’m Dib, the world’s greatest paranormal investigator.”
           “And crazy person,” one of the students whispers loudly and the others giggle. But Dib ignores them as he sits back down, smiling proudly.
           Squee stifles a heavy sigh as he stands up, squeezing Shmee inside his bag. “Uh I-I’m Squee a-and-.”
           “What kind of a name is that?” another student sneers.
           Squee takes a deep breath before continuing. “And I like to write.”
           As he sits back down, Pepito shoots him a thumbs-up and he smiles gratefully.
           The introductions continue throughout the classroom. A couple of students Zim and the others already know, like Willy, Poonchy, Carl, or Jessica; but many they’ve never met before. Not that anyone pays close attention to the introductions anyway.
            Once everyone’s finished, Mr. Tense clears his throat. “I-it is wonderful to meet you all. I hope this will be a prosperous last year of High Skool for you all. Now then, let’s just dive right into math. Open you textbooks, please.”
           The next hour is spent learning math. Mr. Tense is very non-inclusive and only reads the lesson directly from the textbook very stiltedly, or writes on the board. Which means the students are free to pay no attention.
           Zim scrolls through his phone- which now, thanks to Kio, is connected to galactic wide news- and tries to find news on assassins coming to Earth. Dib is busy reading one of his new books on the supernatural; he missed out on a lot being in space. Determined to make original songs this year, Pepito is trying to write song lyrics. And Squee just stares through the window, somewhat absentmindedly, but his eyes still scan for the slightest threat.
           Everyone is quite surprised when a hole is smashed through the ceiling and Mr. Fuck, with smeared make-up, torn clothes, and gashes and cuts, slams into the floor at the front of the classroom.
           Screaming, the students all leap out of the desks while Mr. Tense nearly jumps out of his skin.
           “Eff!” Squee exclaims.
           Eff coughs as he sits up, dry wall dust and debris still falling around him. He glances at Squee and smiles and waves.
           “Oh, hey, Little Boss. Don’t worry, the situation is completely under contro-.” He stops as he reaches for his hat and realizes it’s not there. “That asshole has my hat!”            With that, he jumps up and disappears back through the hole onto the roof.
           “O-okay,” Mr. Tense stammers, “do-don’t worry, kids. J-just exit into the hallway in an orderly fashion.”            Nobody listens to him as the students race out of the classroom, except for Zim, Dib, Pepito, and Squee who look up through the hole.
           “K-kids, we all need to leave,” Mr. Tense says to them and waves towards the door, but they ignore them.
           They can hear shouting: the Night Terrors cursing and voices speaking in Irken. They spot an Irken fly past the hole and Reverend Meat leap after them.
           “Assassins?” Pepito questions.
           “No,” Zim growls, immediately recognizing the unique armor the Irken was wearing. “Irken Bounty Hunters.”            “They’re gonna need help,” he declares, “Irken Bounty Hunters are specially trained killers and they always travel in groups. Do you all have your weapons?”
           “Yes,” Squee nods as he draws his knives from his bag, along with Shmee.
           “Me too,” Dib replies, rolling down the sleeve of his coat to reveal his bracelet.
           “Got my weapons right here,” Pepito says as he clenches his fists and they start glowing black.
           “Good,” Zim grunts as he extends his spider legs and grabs his laser guns.
           “You guys go on ahead,” Dib says, “I’m gonna check on Gaz. We’ll catch up.”            “Alright,” Zim nods as two of his spider legs reach up for the hole while Squee and Pepito grab the other two.
           “Uhm,” Mr. Tense croaks, speechless as they disappear through the hole and Dib races past him into the hall.
           The rooftop is a warzone. The Night Terrors are covered in injures and torn clothes but continue to hold their own against the seemingly five unstoppable Irkens. Their heavy armor has been cracked and damaged and their laser rifles are scattered in pieces. But they still have their PAKs and with their sharp spider leg appendages swinging around, the Night Terrors can’t get close.
           “Pick a target,” Zim orders.
           “I’ll help Eff,” Squee declares as he races off to help the Doughboy wrestling to keep a spider leg from impaling him.
           “I’ll get Sickness,” Pepito says and hurries to her as she dodges an Irken’s striking attacks.
           Zim spots Reverend Meat, struggling to hold off two Irkens. He grins and leaps forward on his spider legs, flying right for one of them. “Mine!”
           Back in the Skool, none of the other classes are aware of the danger yet. Ms. Bitters is still busy teaching Gaz’s class history. She barely pays attention, doodling in the margins of her notebook.
           The classroom slams open, startling everyone, and Dib races in. “Gaz!”            “Dib?” she questions.
           “Oh, fer-,” Ms. Bitters scoffs, “I thought not having you as a student meant I wouldn’t have to deal with your interruptions.”            Dib ignores her as he hurries to Gaz’s desk. “You okay?”
           “Yeah,” she replies incredulously. “What’s going on-?”            Before he can answer, Psycho Doughboy slams into the window outside, crying out as he falls to the ground.
           All the students scream with surprise as they leap out of their desks, except for Dib and Gaz who just stare outside.
           “You got your hammer?” Dib asks.
           “No, but I have a bat in my locker,” Gaz replies.
           “Get it,” he orders, “and meet us outside.”
           Without another word, Gaz races off while Dib opens the window and climbs out. He lands beside D-boy just as he’s starting to sit up, rubbing his face, and they both look up.
           An Irken leaps off the roof and plummets towards them, spider legs pointed down. Dib activates his bracelet, transforming it to his power glove, and readies a blast.
           Meanwhile, as Gaz races to her locker, an announcement plays over the intercom.
           “Attention, the Skool is under a state of emergency. Please evacuate to the street in a calm and orderly fashion.”            In the other grade 12 classroom, Kat perks up while her classmates chatter curiously amongst themselves.
           “Wonder what’s going on,” Maddie mutters as the teacher starts ushering everyone out. Kat ignores them and looks outside, activating her cybernetic eye. Immediately seeing the presence of five unknown Irkens, she growls.
           The tide of battle really turns thanks to the Battalion. The Irken Bounty Hunters are now outnumbered, having to split their attention between one of the Night Terrors and one of the kids. But they still hold their own despite the odds, really showing their Irken strength and ingenuity.
           Squee, Eff, and Shmee surround an Irken, his spider legs raised defensively. Squee goes in first with his rocket wheelies. As soon as he’s disappeared from sight, Eff and Shmee charge in.
           The Irken blocks them with his spider legs while a buzz saw like weapon pops out of his PAK, protecting his head as he correctly predicts that Squee would strike from behind. He stops just before he can connect with the spinning blade but rebounds quickly, ducking down and knocking his leg into the Irken’s ankle, tripping him.
           The Irken reacts quickly, blocking his head from hitting the roof and thrusting a spider leg at Squee. He dodges with ease by zipping around to his other end and charging in, knives up. Scowling, the Irken jabs all four of his spider legs towards him. Squee waits until the very last second before speeding backwards out of harm’s way, while Eff appears by the Irken’s head and swinging knives of his own.
           Gasping, the Irken barely catches Eff’s hands with his own, keeping the blades inches from his face. Eff smirks and the Irken realizes he’s been duped as Shmee leaps off Eff’s head and pile drives the Irken’s stomach, smashing him through the roof.
           Squee and Eff peek through the hole just as Shmee jumps back out, tossing the unconscious alien at Squee’s feet. They all smile victoriously at each other.
         Meanwhile, another Irken is struggling to survive against Sickness and Pepito. She can’t match Sickness’s speed, so she keeps her spider legs close, not allowing her to strike. But she doesn’t even have time to focus on Sickness as she tries to dodge Pepito’s blasts.
           He fires relentlessly, barely giving her time to think and move. Because of her agility, each one only grazes her, but one slip up and he’ll reduce her to dust.
           She growls, getting sick of this, and withdraws her spider legs. But before her opponents can react, a small of pair of rocket thrusters extend from the bottom of her PAK and she blasts into the sky. Once she’s a few feet high, two of her spider legs extend again and she points them down, preparing to fire lasers.
           Pepito smirks and his wings expand from his back, bursting through his shirt. Before the bounty hunter can fire her lasers, he flies up to her, hands glowing black. She ceases her laser power-up and instead uses her spider legs to block him. Locked in a parry, they glare at each other.
           Sickness watches them for a second before crouching, tensing her leg muscles, and jumping into the air, cracking the ground beneath her. She flies up behind the Irken, who is unable to react, held in place by Pepito. Sickness lifts her leg and slams it onto the Irken’s head, sending her plummeting back down and through the roof of the Skool.
           Pepito and Sickness land on either side of the hole and look in. The Irken is blacked out unceremoniously on top of some desks. Smirking, Pepito shoots Sickness a thumbs-up, and she good-naturedly rolls her eyes.
           On the ground, Dib and D-boy are having trouble getting a hit in against their opponent. The bounty hunter keeps them at bay with his spider legs while also dodging the blasts from Dib’s power glove.
           The Irken lunges his spider legs at them, two for each. D-boy blocks his two with his giant mallet while Dib catches one with his glove and barely dodges the other; he winces as it slices a bit through his side.
           The Irken tries to retract his appendages but Dib keeps good grip on one as he charges a blast. He destroys the spider leg and the bounty hunter stumbles back in pain. Scowling angrily, he lunges his last three right for Dib, who lifts his arms in a feeble attempt to block.
           D-boy flips in and smashes the legs out of the way with his mallet. The Irken goes in for another attack when his antennae twitch and he looks back just in time to see Gaz swinging her bat. He leaps out of the way and she smashes the ground where he was standing.
           Snarling, the Irken lunges his spider legs at her. Again, D-boy flips in and helps Gaz block them. Before the bounty hunter can retract them, his antennae twitch again and he looks over to see Dib charging up a blast.
           The Irken tries to retreat but finds himself stuck in place. He looks in despair at D-boy as he smirks and holds tight to his spider legs.
           Dib fires his blast, reducing the Irken to dust and leaving behind nothing but his lifeless spider legs. D-boy lets them drop to the ground while Dib lowers his hand, sighing with relief.
           Back on the roof, Zim and Reverend Meat have their hands full with the last two Irken Bounty Hunters. They stand back to back, repelling their opponents’ attacks with barely any chance to throw their own.
           Zim’s spider legs repeatedly clash with the other Irken’s. Zim lifts his laser guns and fires at her. She leaps backwards, dodging the lasers and fires some of her own from her spider legs. Zim creates a force field with his, blocking them.
           Behind him, Reverend Meat can’t get close to his Irken opponent. He keeps his spider legs close and fires lasers to keep the monstrously strong meat reverend at bay. Reverend Meat is forced to stay on the defensive and dodge, lest he get filled with laser holes.
           He spots Zim with his force field and gets an idea. Keeping his eye on his opponent, he reaches around and grabs Zim’s head, picking him. Zim exclaims with shock as Reverend Meat holds him out, using him like a shield.
           “He-what are yo-release Zim immediately!” he snaps.
           “Just roll with it,” Reverend Meat orders, “and keep your shield up.”            Zim does so and blocks laser blasts from both Irkens. With his other hand, Reverend Meat smashes another hole into the roof and breaks off a large chunk, throwing it at the bounty hunters. The Irkens are taken aback but easily blow the chunk to pieces, only to find Reverend Meat and Zim have disappeared.
           They immediately look at the new hole in the roof and begin firing their lasers downwards. Then their antennae twitch just as Zim and Reverend Meat smash through the roof, jumping up right behind them.
           Reverend Meat grabs the Irkens’ PAKs, smirking as he crushes them to pieces with his large hands. They both shudder and collapse to the ground on their knees. Zim grins as they look back and lifts his laser guns to finish them off, but freezes when he spots one of Irken’s removing her glove. He immediately recognizes the device on her wrist and flinches back.
           “She’s gonna self-destruct!” he shouts.
           “What!” Reverend Meat exclaims.
           But before she can activate the device, a plasma beam fires from the side through her arm, completely destroying the bomb. Everyone looks to the left as two more beams are fired through the bounty hunters’ heads, and Tak approaches, lowering her cyborg arm.
           “I didn’t need your help y’know,” Zim grunts.
           “Yeah, yeah,” she sniffs.
           Everyone finishes their fights around the same time and look around to check on the others. As D-boy leaps back onto the roof with Dib and Gaz, they quickly realize they’ve won and smile victoriously.
           “Oh, hey, Tak,” Pepito says as they gather together. “Where’d you come from?”
           “I’m not gonna let you leave me out of the fun again,” she replies.
           “Hey, check it out,” Squee says, pointing to the main road. All of the students and teachers are gathered there as a couple police cars arrive. The kids settle on the edge of the building and watch as the police attempt to interview the rattled and excited students. Nobody’s noticed them on the roof yet.
           “Well, the Skool was evacuated and we caused a lot of property damage,” Dib summarizes, “and it’s not even lunch yet.”
           “Yup. Not bad for our first day back,” Pepito comments.
           “If this is an omen to how the rest of the year is gonna be, I might just drop out,” Squee grunts, resting his chin in his hand.
           “We will not be defeated,” Zim declares, “no matter how many assassins come after us, or whatever else, this year will not beat us.”
           The Night Terrors sigh comfortably as they sit in between the kids.
           “Besides, you got us,” Eff smirks, patting Squee’s head.
           “Yeah, aren’t you lucky,” Reverend Meat sighs and leans against a grumbling Zim.
           “And me,” Tak adds, “whether you like it or not.”
           “I hate to say it, but
we can use all the help we can get,” Dib says.
           “Uh oh,” Gaz grunts, “we better move. I think one of the cops spotted us.”            “Yup,” Pepito agrees as they retreat farther onto the roof. “Wanna just ditch for the rest of the day?”
           “Yeah, let’s go to my house,” Zim declares.
           With the help of the Night Terrors, the two groups jump off the Skool and disappear through the back field, never to be found by their classmates or teachers until they return for classes the next day.
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stainandscribble · 5 years ago
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Dripping Honey (I)
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Pairing: Yixing ( EXO Lay) x Female OC
Genre: Greek God AU, Fluff, Angst, 
Summary: Being the god of both healing and plague could be straining, being the god of truth and the arts, being the god of oracles, all at once, left him tired. Sometimes it left him lonely. At such a time, he met her; young and bright, with fingers stained in blue ink. How could Yixing not fall in love?
A/N: Yixing’s Honey was so good. This is the longest fic I’ve written so far, I hope you guys enjoy it! :) Also, does this make any sense? 
Warnings: mentions of smut? Insinuating that something happened?
Word Count: 7694
“What is it Jongin?” Junmyeon and Jongdae were sitting at the large table, their stern gazes fixed on the two youngest as they walked in to their Assembly Hall side by side. Neither Jongin nor Sehun knew what to tell their most powerful brothers.  Junmyeon wasn’t their tallest brother, but the air of authority that surrounded him, along with the fragrance of the sea, had made even their tallest brothers look small by comparison. His deep blue suit was immaculate, and so was the black turtleneck underneath. His black hair was parted and combed away from his face, all except for one lock, that curled and fell over his forehead, making him seem almost unruly.
“A girl has been born on Earth.” Jongin began, unsure of how to continue his story.
“They named her Idalia, after the city of Idalion.” He finished, eyes moving from one brother to the other, unsure of their reactions. He bit his lip, stopping himself from voicing just what that meant.
“I see the sun.” Jongdae muttered, before he and Junmyeon exchanged knowing glances. He was the God of Thunder and Lightning, and his soft brown eyes scanned the room, and his brothers, with lightning precision. His lips were set in a permanent smile, curled lightly upwards at the end. Despite his anger, he was considered one of the kindest gods thanks to his truthfulness and gentle appearance. Like Junmyeon, he wore a suit, but his was dark, black like the night sky. Side by side, they looked dangerous, unyielding,  
“So the Fates had their way, without our consultation.” Junmyeon’s clear voice fell over the room like water, cold, and ready to drown those who could not swim. They could see the anger bubbling under his skin. Gods, after all, were not known for their poise. Junmyeon, moody like the sea, was quick to anger. This time it was directed at the Fates. They had decided it was time for a new goddess a century ago, and when the Pantheon of brothers refused, they had carried out their prophecy quietly, without their knowledge.
“Make sure that Yixing does not find out.” Junmyeon instructed his three brothers, his thick brows set in a frown, heavy over his eyes, turbulent like the sea, “We might be able wait it out. Mortal lives are fleeting. If we have it our way, the child will die before the fate has a chance to fulfil itself.” He told them, looking across the hall, where Yixing was making their way towards them.
“The Fates have requested to see us.” Their brother told them, sunlight bouncing off his golden skin, peaking through the white of his loose blouse and trousers.
“Tell them We cannot see them now.” Jongdae instructed, turning towards his elder.
“They refuse to be turned down.” Yixing told them, his words holding simmering anger, boiling underneath the calm exterior of the god of healing.
“I’ll go reason with them.” Jongdae offered, resting a reassuring hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder, as he reigned in his rage.
As he walked passed Yixing, he patted him on the back, a reassuring, cat-like smile forming on his lips.
“Come Jongin.” Jongdae instructed, and the younger brother followed him out the hall. 
“Fate cannot be stopped.” Jongdae told Jongin when they were out of earshot.
“No matter how hard Junmyeon tries to convince himself he can stop it.” He told the tall youngster. Jongin looked down at the god of thunder with wide eyes, surprised that he would go against Junmyeon.
“We are all subject to fate. Even gods.” He told him, his darkened eyes meeting with Jongin’s wide and innocent ones.
The Fates waited for them out in the pavilion, surrounded by tall marble columns, their cradle, suspended in the heavens, surrounded by the clear azure sky.
Jongin looked at the tree women, holding red thread between them, and a shudder went down his spine as Jongdae’s words echoed in his mind.
Fate cannot be stopped.
 -------
Yixing had been the god of the sun and healing for a long time now,
Eons, in fact.
Throughout the centuries, he had spent every morning banishing the darkness, and bringing the sun across the sky.
He had looked down onto the Earth, moody and unforgiving, and he had looked down at the mortals that had called his creed godly.
Looking down on the mortal humans, he had seen their beauty, and he had seen the affections they give so readily, loving even the little creatures, even the unseemly ones.
He fell in love too. Sometimes that love turned tragic. Sometimes it was unrequited. Sometimes, being a God, and being prone to anger and vengeance, like the rest of his creed, he lashed out; brought misfortune and death upon his mortal lovers.
Being the God of both Healing and Plague could be straining, being the God of Truth and the Arts, being the God of Oracles, all at once, left him tired. Sometimes it left him lonely.
Now, after eons of keeping away, letting human nature take its course uninterrupted, he was ready.
This time, however, he had vowed to himself that he would love dearly, wholeheartedly. He would put his anger away for the next mortal lover.
Loneliness had left him searching, starving for affection, starving for love.
He had come down to Earth, modern, busy, to the Earth that never seemed to sleep, never seemed to rest, did not worship him like their ancestors did in antiquity.
He had come down to Earth through the rays of sunlight streaming down from the blue of the heavens. You could have sworn the sun became his crown, and that it had dripped off his skin, thick and golden like honey.
Among the sleek steel and glass building, Yixing looked like he belonged. In perfectly fitting clothes, oozing the confidence of a god, many would mistake him for a business man, maybe even a CEO. He looked powerful. He looked godly.
So much unlike her.
Unbeknownst to him, the Fates were watching, tying knots in the red string of his life, bidding their time.
Unbeknownst to Junmyeon, Jongdae was watching too. Unlike the Fates, he was watching the girl. She had grown up into a beautiful woman. She was young and pretty, but most importantly, and fortunately for his brother, she had grown up to become a poet. Something Yixing would be able to appreciate.
He waited patiently for the day Yixing would return to their home, holding her in his heart, and Junmyeon would have to accept her. Just like he had to accept his wife.
Gods were slow to learn, he though, watching with a sense of nostalgia Idalia as she rushed across the busy street, only to pass Yixing by as they made their way in opposite directions.
-------- 
It was a sunny afternoon. Warm and balmy in the middle of summer, when the two met.
For the last few weeks on Earth, he had found himself basking in the golden sun in the wild meadows that broke through the industrial buildings of the city. Glass and steel and concrete giving way to brilliant greens of wild grass and wild flowers.
Today was no different, and yet Yixing felt a new lightness in his bones, and an anticipation curling at the pit of his stomach. He was the god of oracles, and he was sure that what he was feeling was a premonition of some sort.
He lay in the meadow, eyes closed as he breathed in the sweet fragrance of grass and flowers that floated in the warm air.
“Excuse me sir,” A soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes. Leaving above him was a young woman, her brows furrowed in concern as she looked down at him, lying down alone so far away from the busy city.
“Is everything okay?” She asked, and Yixing caught her gaze, his dark eyes boring into her own.
“Everything is more than okay.” He told her, sincerity lacing his words. She looked like she belonged among the sunshine, her skin was sun-kissed and glowing, and her hair was soft and silky, reflecting light like the water surface reflected the sun. 
She pursed her lips together, and Yixing stood up, smiling at her, with wide, awe filled eyes.  
Walking through the meadow’s now that all the flowers were blooming had become Ida’s new hobby. It was relaxing, breathing in the balmy air, thick and fragrant from all the herbs and flowers that grew wild and uninterrupted here. She enjoyed basking in the sun, writing away in her notebook as the rays warmed her.
Finding a stranger asleep in her usual spot was not part of the routine.
He was beautiful. His skin was golden, his hair black like the earth. His plump lips formed a smile when he saw her, leaning above him, and her heart skipped a beat when his gaze caught hers.
“What is a young woman doing here all alone?” He asked, his melodic voice rang through the air.
“Working.” She replied.
“I’m a poet.” She clarified when his inquisitive eyes fell on her.
“Have I heard of you, by any chance?” He asked, walking closer. He moved gracefully, like dancer, stepping lightly on the ground.
“I doubt that.” She answered, shifting, surveying his every move, getting ready to flee. She was alone here, after all, alone and far from the streets of the city.
“You never know.” Yixing prodded, a playful smile on his lips.
“I wrote Written in the Twilight.” Ida told him, expecting another inquisitive look as he pondered over the unfamiliar title. She was far from famous, but she was recognisable, even if only because her name seemed familiar.
“I sit in the colourful twilight,
Suspended between night and day,
bidding goodbye to the sun,
as if I am bidding goodbye to an old lover.”
Yixing recited, gazing far into the distance, eyes scanning the all too familiar orange glow of golden hour just before the sun started to set. The flowers swayed lightly in the breeze, surrounded by the tall grasses, and the sky was a brilliant shade of azure blue.
“How did you know?” Ida asked, and Yixing looked back down at her, his eyes kind, looking down at her like at a child, making her wonder just how old he was. He looked young, but the aura that surrounded him seemed older. He gazed at her with a knowing look in his eyes, as if he knew something she didn’t.
“I am a poetry professor.” Yixing took the opportunity to stand closer to her. It wasn’t quite a lie. He was sure he was more knowledgeable then the mortals, with their short lifetimes and language barriers. He had been here at the dawn of time after all. he was the one who gave humans poetry. A gift to his first lover. 
Ida looked back at the stranger. He wasn’t the tallest, but his earthy brow eyes were gazing softly at her, glistening a soft honey colour when the sun reflected off of them. He was smiling at her, and Ida had returned his smile with a soft one of her own, as if under a spell. 
Being the god of poetry and the sun, he had read that poem, right as she was writing it, here in the meadow, gazing at the sun. Little did she know that the sun had been gazing right back at her. Yixing gave her a bright smile, his dimples poking through his cheeks. 
He extended his hand to shake hers.
“I’m Yixing.”
“Ida.” She told him, and he smiled, because he already knew.
--------- 
Yixing liked her. From the moment he lay his eyes on the young woman. Ida looked like one of his ancient lovers. But she also didn’t. Maybe that is why he fell in love with her. Yixing was lonely, and she had brought out long forgotten nostalgia, and old promises he had been stalling to keep. And somewhere along with them, she brought along excitement and a new kind of anticipation.
Being the god of oracles had its benefits. He could simply will their paths to cross, and they would. And they did. 
He came to her as a stranger, someone she met by chance. He came to her as a mortal, disguising his immortality, and his power, letting go of the anger that burned in his veins.
He came to her as a mortal. To be loved. Not worshipped. Her ancestors had worshipped him for centuries before and had stopped worshipping him a long time ago too. He did not want her cowering away from his touch, avoiding his eyes. Yixing wanted her to be drawn to him, to desire him, to love and cherish him. He was starved of love, and finally he was allowing himself to feast.
If only she would let him.
------ 
They had met again a few days later, in a bookstore.
Ida was searching the stacked shelves, browsing through the old bookshop, for some inspiration for her second anthology. Old dust and the smell of old books hang in the air, made more apparent in the summer heat and the lack of air conditioning. The sun shone through the large display windows, breaking through the labyrinth of shelves as the only source of light.
A book had caught her eyes, perched on the top shelf, far from reach. Ida tried standing on her tiptoes to reach it. Her fingertips barely grazed the spine of the book below. From behind her, she could hear light footsteps. She turned towards them, hoping it was one of the employees.
Instead, she found Yixing walking towards her with an old book in his hands.
“Need a little help?” He asked, looking down at Ida with his deep brown eyes.
“Can you reach?” She asked, standing on her tiptoes in a pathetic attempt to reach the book she wanted.
Yixing walked over to her silently, and Ida stood frozen as he reached for the clean white spine, pulling it out from in between hardcover editions. His arm brushed against the side of her head, and she could feel his chest rise and fall behind her.
“This one?” Yixing asked, his voice merely a whisper. Even then she could hear the playful smile on his lips.
“the sun and her flowers?” He sounded amused by her choice. In reality, Yixing was ecstatic. Everything about her seemed just right. He could feel the red strings of fate wrapping around him. Like the god of oracles that he was, he could feel them wrap around his wrist, felt them against his ribs, felt their shadow against his heart. Fate was a thing not even gods could escape from. Not him, not Jongdae. And despite whatever Junmyeon thought, he would not be able to escape it either.
“Yes. Thank you.” She muttered, snatching the book from out of his hands.
“Do you want to read on the couches with me?” Yixing asked when she moved away, a warm smile on his lips, and hopefulness shining in his eyes.
“Okay.” Ida agreed, drawn to the man. He seemed to pop out of nowhere, in her most precious, private places. First so far away from the city, and far away from the beaten paths, in the middle of wild meadows. Now, in the old bookshop, located far off the main streets somewhere in a back alley. Ida wondered whether it had been luck. A mere coincidence that she had bumped into the professor.
They sat on the old velvet couches that had long since seen their better days. Her, with a sleek white copy of the sun and her flowers. Him, with a copy of Homer’s Iliad, the spine and cover softened with age and use. The silence that settled over them didn’t last long.  
“I was wondering,” Yixing started, catching Ida’s attention. She turned to look at him.
Situated between the cushions of the velvet couch, dressed in yellow, Ida looked like sunshine.
Yixing thought she was glowing. The highest compliment the god of the sun could offer. Her eyes fell on him, deep and blue, like the sky in between thunder, like the sea during a storm. They washed over him like water. Soft, lifegiving; capable of drowning. She was a duality. But so was he, and the thought thrilled him.
“What is your favourite poet?” Yixing finally asked, thrilled at the way Ida’s eyes fell over him, analysing him before she finally spoke.
“I like Nikita Gill.” She responded, never taking her eyes off him. An almost benignant smile formed on his lips.
“Anyone else?” He asked, leaning towards her, his fingers drumming silently against the armrest.
“You wouldn’t know them.” She told him.
“You thought I didn’t know you.” Yixing reasoned, anticipating her answer, hoping for something interesting. She was going to be his lover, she should choose her favourites wisely. There was not a poet he didn’t know. 
“I like Adam Mickiewicz.” The answer brought a smile to his face. 
“He’s a Polish Romanticist.” Ida told him, leaning towards him, her fingers clutching the armrest so close to his fingers he could feel their warmth. Of course he knew that. All poets after all, were gifted thanks to him. He knew them all, had blessed them all.
“I like Homer and Li Bai.” He told her, the Iliad laying in his lap.
“As expected of a professor.” He laughed at her, his voice resounding around the bookshop like bells.
They spoke of their favourite poets, him of Aesop; her of Maria Konopnicka.
Once the sun began to go down, its orange glow turning Yixing’s skin a rich gold, he bid her farewell, and left to meet with his godly brothers. As he disappeared, so did the sun, letting the night settle over the city like a blanket. 
------ 
It was then he decided she would his. His last lover.
He would take her as his wife, if his brothers would permit.
Olympus was silent when he entered. The air thick with tension, smelling like the sea breeze. Thunder raged above his head, the clouds black and looming. It was clear Jongdae and Junmyeon were arguing. Yixing was left wondering who else was there, and which of his brothers were against it.
He walked across the marble pavilion, thunder raging in his ears and wind whipping at his hair and clothes. He could tell Sehun was there as well.
The golden doors of the Assembly hall opened and Yixing walked in, weary of his brothers, sitting at the round table, all chairs occupied but one.
Junmyeon was standing up, leaning forwards, arms propping him up against the table. His hair was windswept and messy, and his eyes, a ranging storm, landed on Yixing. In comparison to his brothers, Yixing was a ray of light breaking through the clouds. The tension in Junmyeon’s shoulders seemed to evade him as he stood straight, head held high. The clench in Jongdae’s jaw and the worry swimming in Jongin’s eyes were foreign to him as he walked leisurely towards his seat.
“What do you have to say for yourself Yixing?”
“Junmyeon, I love you as a brother. And I respect your judgement as one of our elders.” Yixing told him, “But I cannot fight fate.” The look in his eyes, bright and shining and honey coloured, held both power and determination. Behind it however, his brothers could clearly see the pleading that swam somewhere behind his pride. He was in love with the mortal. They had no doubts about that.
“What do you plan on doing?” Kyungsoo asked, eyes the colour of the earth, hard and unyielding, set underneath strong, straight borrows. His full, heart shaped lips dyed the colour of ripe berries. The god of the earth and harvest was practical. Kyungsoo would make no decision without hearing all sides first.
“I want to marry her.” Yixing told them, his voice deeper than usual, face set in stone, more serious than his brothers had seen in a while.
“You hadn’t taken a wife in all those eons. Why now?” Baekhyun asked, his eyes wide and sparkling, his whole body on edge with the anticipation of his answer. The god of love had been excited when he found out about his brother’s infatuation, granted him his blessing before he was even asked. Although Baekhyun gave them his blessings, he also awaited the tragedy that would surely bring an end to the romance. Gods rarely stayed with mortals. Their short lifetimes were mere fleeting moments within the eternity that were the lifetimes of him and his brothers.
“If it is just fate you wish to appease, we cannot accept it.” Junmyeon told him, his voice drowning all other sounds.  Despite his reluctance, he could see the sincerity swimming in his brother’s eyes. He sat down, much calmer now than when Jongin had come in to deliver the news that the two have met on Earth. He wanted what was best for his brothers, and worried about the anguish the god of sun and healing would surely endure if he did not love her. He worried for the mortal too. The gods were capricious, moody beings. Often unfaithful. Their romances most often ended in tragedies, whether Junmyeon liked to admit it or not. That was the truth.
“The Fates make and unmake knots in our threads as they please. Who’s to say they will change your fate in a century.” He reasoned with Yixing, walking from his seat at the table, to rest a comforting hand over his shoulder.
“The Knots for chosen lovers, and the knots for fated ones are different.” Jongdae’s voice was barely above a whisper. He turned to look straight into Yixing’s eyes, the air charged with electricity as he stared, lightning cracking above the marble halls.
“Fated lovers had their knots in our threads since the beginning of time.” He would know. His wife had been mortal once too, before he took her from Earth into Olympus. Baekhyun was nodding along, the god of love could see the knots in their life threads, far away in his mind’s eye, he watched the Fates hold the knot that signified Idalia in Yixing’s thread, on old thing, wound tight it was almost impossible to undo. There was nothing they could do to stop it.
“You cannot escape fate.” Jongin’s soft voice broke through the electricity in the air, his eyes wide and innocent as he recalled what his older brother told him years ago. He watched in awe as it was all coming true now, fate unravelling right before his eyes.
 Jongdae had been understanding, but wary.
Yixing was a god, and so, he was not safe. He was vengeful and prone to anger, like the rest of his creed. His love, like their loves, was fleeting. He would have to make her immortal, to marry her.
But it was dangerous, almost impossible task.
“Love her. Have children with her. But now. Within the constraints of the short human life. It’ll hurt less.” Chanyeol advised him. His satin orange tunic moved in the light like flames in the wind, the god of fire towered over them all, his eyes, burning into Yixing’s despite their wide and gentle appearance.
“She will die.” Yixing admonished, the healer in him raging at the thought of the gentle woman, lifeless, the glow no longer present in her skin.  
“And another will come in her place.” Chanyeol said, his voice more forceful, words burning hotter at the tip of his tongue.
“I don’t want another.” Yixing insisted. It was hard to argue with his brothers. Especially in times like these, when he knew, and Baekhyun knew, that what they wanted of Yixing, to keep away, was impossible. Jongdae knew it better than anyone of the hardships he would have to face to keep Ida by his side.
“Enough.” Junmyeon ended the assembly, letting the gods disperse, letting Yixing go back to Earth.
------ 
The third time they met Yixing had bumped into her on her way home.
Ida was coming back from the grocery store, hands filled with bags as she walked on the empty pavement. It was still a mystery to her how she managed to walk right into Yixing, when the whole pavement was free. Alas, she did barge straight into him, sending her falling, and her shopping rolling on the ground.
Kind as he was, Yixing helped her pick up what fell out of the bags, a smile on his lips as his dimples poked through.
“You really didn’t have to do that.” She told him, picking the bags off the floor and slinging them over her shoulder. Yixing just smiled, before giving Ida the last bit of shopping that had rolled on the ground.
“Nonsense.” He laughed, his dimples poking through. Ida took a moment to appreciate the way the he looked in the lights of the streetlamps, his features half cast in shadows, making them seem more defined. He looked different than he did during the day. Like some of his softness was missing.
“I’ll walk you home.” He offered, and Ida looked around, trying to see whether anyone else was walking by. By some stroke of luck, they were alone in the silent alley.
“It’s getting dark and you are all alone.” Yixing told her, a hint of worry lacing his voice as he stared into her eyes. She averted her gaze and thanked him, leading the way to her apartment.
“Thank you.” She muttered when they stopped outside her block, the night security guard looked out of his booth at them, making sure nothing suspicious was happening.
“Do you want to come in?” Ida asked, gazing at her watch. There was still time to invite him for coffee. Over their few encounters she had grown interested in the bright man.
“Thank you.” He told her as they entered the lobby. They entered the elevator together in silence, neither knowing what to say, as obnoxious instrumentals played in the background.
“How is your writing?” Yixing broke the silence, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he clocked his head to look at Ida more clearly.
“I’m making progress.” She smiled, her head bobbing lightly to the elevator music.
“How are your lectures?” She asked, curious as to what being a professor was like. She imagined that it was tiring, having to deal with hundreds of students.
“The ancient Greeks are a little tough to swallow in the beginning.” He laughed. It was true that Homer and the others were not easy to understand on the first try. Especially with all the mistranslations of their work. Culture simply was not like what it used to be, and what people considered rude or funny had also changed. He had spent his existence dealing with poets.  They were indeed an interesting group of mortals. One he had blessed himself, and so he kept them under his wing. Somewhere in his ancient heart he had cared for them.  They walked through the corridor to her apartment, they footsteps muffled by the old carpet.  
Once they entered Ida’s small apartment, Yixing’s eyes were instantly drawn to the multitude of papers lying around everywhere. Manuscripts lay on the round dining table, on the kitchen counter. There were papers stuffed in the shoe cupboard and pinned to the cork notice board in the small kitchen. A bright laugh burst through his chest. Without knowing it, his fated lover had spent her time worshipping the god of the sun and the arts. Poetry was something Yixing had gifted to humans a long time ago, and it was through poetry that he was worshipped. It had filled him with glee to know that the woman he would love, the woman whose knots tugged at his heart, had been heard by him before he came down to Earth.
“You have been busy.” He told her between laughter, and she smiled politely, embarrassed by the mess she had left.
“Can I look at it?” Yixing asked, and Ida nodded, gesturing towards the round dinner table in the small living room.
“By all means. Go ahead.”
“Do you want tea, or coffee?” She asked once she was in the kitchen. She put the kettle on boil and took out two cups.
“Tea please.” Yixing said, eyes never leaving the printed pages of her manuscript.
They spent the rest of the evening sipping tea and discussing her poetry, selecting through the pages for the poems to publish, and those too personal to give to the world just yet.
“Would you like to go out with me?” Yixing asked at the end of the night, bolder than before. More determined to have her now that his brothers did not disagree with the idea.
“As a date.” He clarified when she said nothing, her eyes widening in surprise. A bush bloomed over her cheeks, and she smiled.
“Sure.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow.” He told her, before he left her flat, the door closing softly behind him.
------ 
Yixing had been true to his word. By seven, he was waiting outside Ida’s block, wearing a patterned burgundy button up shirt and a checked blazer.
When Ida walked out onto the stairs, Yixing’s old heart skipped a beat. She was pretty. No pretty wasn’t a good enough word. Ida was sublime. Bewitching. She had worn a burgundy dress with a lace collar, unknowingly matching with him.
A smile graced his lips as he greeted her, offering Ida his arm. She looped hers through his, smiling at him.
“Where are we going?” Excitement tethered on the edge of her voice. Yixing gazed down at her, looking into her hazel eyes. She was wearing makeup tonight, and the shimmery gold eyeshadow reminded him of the sun.
“Out to dinner.” He told her, walking Ida to his car. He had gone to great lengths to seem mortal for her. Jongdae had told him most of the things he knew, seeing as his wife, although now immortal, like spending her days off in between mortals.
He opened the passenger door for Ida, and then stepped out on the street to get to the driver’s side. At first Yixing expected driving to be hard, but he quickly got the hang of it. Admittedly, he had spent multiple centuries bringing the sun across the shy, and the chariot, graciously given to him by Helios when he retired, was almost like the machine he was sitting in now.
The fancy Chinese restaurant Yixing took Ida to wasn’t crowded. There were multiple empty tables all around, and the lighting was low and subdued. They were sat in the middle of the room, not too close to the entrance, and not too far to the back. At the back of the restaurant, Ida could hear some sort of string instrument being played.
“What are they playing on?” She asked Yixing, hoping he would provide an answer. He smiled and turned in the direction of the sound.
“That’s a pipa. It’s something like a Chinese lute.” He smiled, his sweet voice moving through the air like honey. Ida nodded, her attention focused on the man in front of her.
When the waiter came along to take their order, they both had chosen various dishes, mostly dumplings, and a pot of herbal tea to have along with them.
Over the course of the evening, Yixing told her about his brothers. At least that’s what he called them. He had told Ida that they didn’t all have the same parents. He had not elaborated on that, and Ida was not going to pry into it. Family business was private, and to her, all that mattered was that Yixing seemed very close with all of them.
She in turn told him about her sister, who was going to get married in a week’s time, and about how she still didn’t have anyone to go with.
“I’ll go with you.” Yixing insisted, his dimples coming out as he pursed his lips, waiting for her reply.
“You should.” She laughed, and Yixing too the opportunity to hold her hand which was resting on the table. She intertwined her fingers through his. The red thread tugged at his heart, and although Ida could not feel her read thread of fate the was Yixing could, her cheeks turned a light pink under Yixing’s intense gaze.
They ended up coming back to her apartment, where Yixing had taken the liberty to open a bottle of red wine. They sat down on the couch in her living room, the news running in the background, for lack of anything better.
Brave from the alcohol beginning to curse through her veins, Ida leaned in closer, her lips finding Yixing’s. Her lips were soft and smooth against his hot ones. Yixing was the god of the sun, always warm, sometimes too warm. Tonight, sunlight streamed from his fingertips, warming Ida up wherever they touched. They burned their trial across her neck when he brought her closer.
When their clothes were discarded, his hands scorched trials across her back, over her collarbones, and his lips, feverish against her skin, burned their marks in the form of purple bruises against her neck.
Warm and content in Yixing’s arms, Ida sealed her fate, and for a brief moment, she could feel the ropes, red and soft against her skin, tugging and pulling at heart. Tangling with another rope, coiling itself into knots against it the same was she had wound her fingers into his hair, tugging at it to pull Yixing closer.
He stayed the night.
On Olympus, the Fates had picked up a new thread.
 ------
Morning came, and just before dawn Yixing had managed to untangle himself from the still sleeping Ida and return to Olympus. He brought the chariot across the sky, the sun chasing after him as the night faded away. Jongdae caught him standing at the edge of the Pavilion, looking down at the endless sky.
“She will love me?” Yixing asked, looking at his brother for help. Jongdae had already suffered through this, the mortal waiting. Yixing wondered whether he could live with the uncertainty living in his belly like a feral beast, roaring to life any chance he was away.
“Certainly.” His brother reassured him, a comforting hand splayed across his shoulders, bringing him in closer. It was reassuring that one of his brothers understood how he felt right now, as fate threw him left and right.
“Mortal’s take time to fall in love. They don’t feel the pull of fate like we do.” Jongdae encouraged him. He knew first hand what it was like to be in Yixing’s shoes, all alone, as your brother fought over your fate – the fate you knew was inevitable. The fate that you knew was well underway.
“Go to her, before she wakes up.” He pulled Yixing away from the edge of the pavilion, past the white marble columns and the Assembly hall, towards the sturdy stone stairs that lead downwards, past the unending expanse of the sky-sea and the clouds.
“Bye Jongdae.” Yixing murmured to his brother, before he disappeared in the blueness.
------ 
When Ida woke up, she could no longer feel the burns she swore she had felt as she was falling asleep. She had inspected herself in the mirror standing in her bedroom. Apart from the array of hickeys on her neck, her collarbones and back were perfectly smooth.
Yixing looked on from his space on the bed, laughing quietly at her looks of confusion, happy that he was also the god of healing, and that he didn’t have to explain the red lined he had burned into her back the night before.
“Do you want anything for breakfast?” Ida asked as they walked into the kitchen.
“Eggs?” She opened the fridge and pulled out the carton.
“Only if you make them sunny side up.” He told her, a cheeky grin spreading over his face.
She smiled back at him, and his heart sored.
He left shortly after breakfast. Ida’s sister was coming to make sure Ida had the right dress for her wedding, and they both preferred if her family did not question what was going on between the two. Yixing, because he could not tell them outright, that she was fated to be with him; Ida, because her sister would then call all their cousins and their parents, and Ida was not in the mood to explain to everyone that she was not getting married.
------ 
“What do you have there Idalia?” Her older sister taunted, looking over Ida’s shoulder at the poem she had decided to work on this morning.
“He was golden,
In the way it bounced off his skin.
He was warm,
In the way he held me.
He was light,
In the way his laugh escaped his lips.
He was ancient,
In the way he spoke
and the way his eyes looked at me.
He was scorching,
In the way his passion fell from his fingertips,
Against my skin.
-          He is like the sun.”
“How may I help you?” Ida asked, sarcasm dripping off her voice. Her sister paid her no mind as she continued reading over her shoulder.
“Are you going alone to the wedding? If you are, I found someone for you to go with.” She threw out nonchalantly, testing the waters. She had wanted Ida to find someone to go to the wedding with, since she didn’t want her going alone.
“I’m not going alone.” Ida told her, a little annoyed, and a little embarrassed that she would think so.
“Then with whom?” Her sister prodded, leaning against her shoulder.
“A friend.” Ida tried to cut the conversation short, not ready to tell her sister everything about Yixing just yet.
“Which friend?” She continued prodding, her voice a pitch higher.
“He’s a professor.” It wasn’t surprising. Ida tended to spend her time in bookshops and among writers, so finding an academic was not surprising. She just hoped that Ida wasn’t bringing an older guy. The conversation ended there, since Ida did not want to talk about it any longer.
“Good luck with your new anthology!” Her sister hugged her goodbye, before leaving to sort out wedding details.
------- 
The day of the wedding rolled around too quickly, and before Ida knew it she was in her parent’s house, helping her sister with her veil and shoes, as Yixing stood to the side, politely chatting to her father.
It had come as a shock to Ida’s family that she was now seeing the young professor, who had turned up in a dark blue suit and white button up, without a tie, and a pattered pocket square stuffed in his breast pocket.
Her cousins had fallen silent, no longer laughing at her lack of a date, and your sister had given her a pat on the back when he walked in, looking like he belonged on a magazine cover.
The ceremony was beautiful, as one would expect, and when the wedding party rolled around, Yixing had sat down beside her at the table, his dark eyes scanning the room.
“Is this what you want?” He asked, eyes on her cousins, dancing with their partners, before he turned to Ida.
“No.” She told him. “I don’t like being the centre of attention. I don’t need a white dress, or a hundred flowers, or a seven layer cake.”
“Then what do you want?” Yixing hadn’t been to a mortal wedding in a while, maybe since Troy? Or was it after? Since then, anyhow, customs have changed, and as a God, his own wedding would look a lot different from the one here. He knew that Jongdae, as the Head of Olympus would marry them off, the rest of his brothers and their wives would be in attendance, along with his muses and the nymphs. A dinner would be prepared, and then they would leave for their home. Even now, even regarding this, a matter supposedly set in stone, he wanted to appease her. Yixing wanted to know what it was that Ida wanted.
“I want a quiet ceremony. To have dinner with my family, play a few games and go home.” Ida told him, her eyes never leaving her sister, smiling and looking like a princess in her wedding dress. Ida wondered what it would be like to marry him; marry Yixing and spend the rest of her life writing poetry, only to have him make her read it to him when he came home. She wondered what it would be like to wake up beside him every day, the past few times had been quiet affairs, him awake before her, stroking her hair and shielding her eyes from the sun that the streamed through the windows.
“That sounds nice.” Yixing nodded, content now that he was sure she could get exactly what she wanted.
“What do you want?” Ida asked, leaning into him as he stretched his arm out over the back of her chair, pulling her closer.
“The same thing you do.” He told her sincerely, letting her rest her head against his shoulder.
 -------
A few weeks had passed since the wedding, and Ida was getting sicker by the day. For the last few days, she had risen moments before Yixing, only to end up in the bathroom. She complained she felt sick, and one day Yixing had confined her to bed rest as she was having a fever. She wasn’t sure what was happening, and Yixing had urged her to see a doctor, able to sense what it was that was making her sick, but too nervous to tell her himself.
This morning, Yixing had watched her empty the contents of her stomach three times before she left for work. Each time, he handed her a glass of water, and even made her lunch to take with her since she couldn’t stomach anything for breakfast.
Promptly after, his brother had called him to Olympus, where another storm raged above their home. The wind whipped against Yixing harder than it had when Junmyeon found out about him meeting Ida. It had raged, angrier than when the Fates had tied Idalia’s knots for her, at the very beginning of her life.
Apprehension ate him raw, as he stumbled into the Assembly Hall. None of his brothers seemed happy to see him. No one seemed calm either.
“Do you have any idea what you have done?” Junmyeon roared, eyes darkened, and hair wet from the sea. All other sounds were muffled by his voice, and even Baekhyun, who had always been the most light hearted out of all of them wasn’t smiling.
“Yixing.” Jongdae greeted, but his voice was cold and piercing, matching the lightning that flashed across the sky above them.
“What are they doing here?” The god of the sun asked, weary eyes falling on the three Fates, sitting at the table in between Jongin and Baekhyun. The three women- one looking like a young woman – The Spinner, one mature – The Alloter, and one elderly – The Unturning, sat at the table, weaving a red thread in between their fingers, new and bright red and still loose without a single knot in it yet.
“Bringing news, Sun God.” The Unturning told him, her voice hoarse and scratchy.
“What thou have done, thou cannot undo.” The Alloter whispered. Her voice, gentle and motherly, sent a shiver up Yixing’s spine.
“The life thou made, thou cannot unmake.” The Spinner said, her voice an echo that carried over the Pavilion and across Olympus, silencing the storm as it passed. For a moment all was still and quiet, before the Unturning looked him straight in the eyes, her own eyes, black and empty in their sockets, stared into his own with such intensity, no matter how badly he wanted to look away, Yixing couldn’t.
“Sun God, she is with child.” The Unturning said, her voice even. A calm washed over Yixing at her words. A second later it was gone, the weight of them sinking into him, drowning him the way Junmyeon’s tempests drowned sailors, washed over him like the cold waters of the river Styx, baring his bones to the outside. His greatest suspicion, greatest joy and greatest fear, had been confirmed.
“Ida?” Jongin asked, his sweet voice pulling Yixing out of the raging storm in his head.
“She who sees the Sun, who was named after the ancient city of Idalion.” The Spinner tells them, and neither Junmyeon nor Chanyeol have anything to say.
It is Yifan, the God of the Dead and the Underworld, who is the first to break the heavy silence.
The smile on his face was dim and only slight, but there is genuine care in his eyes.
“Congratulations Brother.” He told him, and there was a lightness in his voice, aberrant of the God of the Dead.  He towers above Yixing as he stands, putting his large hand over his shoulder. On his other side, Zitao, the God of Time, and Luhan, the God of Wisdom and War, stand to congratulate him, their voices tinged with happiness, and a sparkle in their eyes.
It is Minseok who calls him over from his seat on Junmyeon’s left, and hands him a ring. It is golden band, crafted out of his snow and Chanyeol’s fire, looking too intricate to have been created by mortals, buy Yixing knows it is unbreakable, forged from the gold in Mount Olympus.
From beside Minseok, Junmyeon pulls out another band, a little broader than the first one, and the way the pattern curls against the gold he knows that it had been crafted deep under the sea in Junmyeon’s forge.
“You have our blessings. All eleven of us.” He tells him, and for the first time since he met Ida, there is no anger hidden behind his eyes.
“Go to her. She is waiting.” Jongin says, and Yixing takes off in a run, pulling the sun with him as he goes, the storm clouds breaking in his wake. 
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olaf-likeswarmhugs · 5 years ago
Text
Prologue: Hope World
Every night, when the sky is awake, Olaf finds his Mums and asks for his favourite bedtime story.
It’s his favourite, because it’s about him.
The Mums take turns. First, Anna scoops Olaf into her lap, giggling as Olaf tugs at her hair, wanting to braid it just like how Elsa always braids it. She lets his hands fiddle and knot and tug, as she begins the story. “Once upon a time,” she says,” in a beautiful Winter Hollow, there lived two fairies who were very, very much in love.”
“Anna and Elsa!” chirps Olaf.
“Yes! Anna and Elsa, Olaf, exactly! They had fallen in love over many winters, over hot cocoa and sled rides, and making flower crowns!” went on Anna. “They were each other’s family. And they couldn’t wait to make that family even bigger one day, so they could share their love and their talents with a little fairy all their own. But they didn’t want just any little fairy. No, they knew there was a special fairy boy waiting for them out there. They just had to go and find him.”
“Me! He was me!” Olaf cries out. He lopes his arms around Anna’s neck.
“Hey! Don’t skip ahead in the story!” laughs Anna
Elsa laughs too and gently touches Olaf’s ski-slope nose. “That’s right, little snowflake,” says his other Mum. “You. So Anna and Elsa set off on an adventure to find their special fairy child. First, they went to the great Queen Iduna of the Winter Hollow to ask for her advice.‘You will have to make a snowman,’ she told them. ‘A very special little snowman, made under the Midnight Sun. When the Sun shines in harmony with the Aurora lights, then your fairy child will be yours.’
“But Queen Iduna, gasped Anna--” Anna gasps this too, and it makes Olaf laugh again. “How are we supposed to make a snowman when it’s the middle of summer? How can the Aurora shine if the Midnight Sun is out too?”
“That’s why you’ll need help, said Queen Iduna,” Elsa says. “And after she told them what they needed to know, off Anna and Elsa went. First, to make their snowman, they had to go to the most skilled Ice-talent in the Hollow, Mr. Kristoff! Mr. Kristoff agreed to help them. Elsa used her talent to make three perfect snowballs, and then Mr. Kristoff encased them in a thick, blue layer of ice, so they’d stay cool on the journey.”
“Next, they went to Kristoff’s husband, Sven. Sven was a reindeer-talent-fairy--”
“And the tallest fairy in the whole Hollow!” crowed Olaf. “Oh, lemme say this part, please please please--”
“Okay, Olaf, you say it,” says Elsa.
“Okay! Sven, he’s so tall, so he reached up-- he reached up and picked 1, 2, 3 holly berries from the holly berry bush.”
“Exactly, Olaf,” says Elsa. “And he gave those berries to the girls as well. Elsa held the snow, so it wouldn’t melt. Anna held the berries. And they trekked outside the Hollow, to where the snow melted into grass and flowers poked their gentle, colorful heads above the ground. Though it was getting warmer, the snowballs that Kristoff had frozen for them hadn’t melted yet. They finally reached a beautiful meadow where the Midnight Sun was still shining, even though it was late at night. Quickly, Elsa made a snowy mound and they put the snowballs one on top of the other.”
“And then Anna gave the snowman the holly berries. Now it had two eyes and a button nose, just like yours!” Anna exclaims and pokes Olaf’s nose. He snuggles into her chest.
“But then
” Olaf utters. He knows what’s coming next.
Elsa nods gravely. “But then, both fairies were at a loss. They’d done what Queen Iduna said, but the snowman was just a snowman. The sun was starting to melt the ice. Elsa and Anna were worried. What are we going to do? wondered Elsa. We can’t make the Aurora lights appear!”  
“But Anna was to the rescue!” Olaf says.
Anna squeezes Olaf tight. “That’s right. Anna realized that maybe they didn’t need the real Aurora lights! Maybe they just needed her lights. And so Anna quickly conjured up some lights in every colour she could think of. Blue and green and purple and pink! She dressed the snowman in all these colours. And as those lights beamed like a rainbow, and the Midnight Sun shone overhead, the spell was complete! When Elsa and Anna opened their eyes, a little fairy boy was where the snowman used to be. He was everything they dreamed he’d be.”
“He was exactly what they’d hoped for,” adds Elsa. She squeezes Anna’s hand.
“He was their perfect little Olaf.” Anna kisses Olaf’s forehead.
Olaf smiles. When he looks up, the sky is still awake, beaming in all those colours just like the story. Blue and green and purple and pink. Olaf can never choose which is his favourite, and so he never chooses any, just says its the wide-awake-sky that’s his favourite, the wide-awake-sky that was looking over him the day he was born.
He hopes when he gets his talent, he’ll make colourful lights like his Mum. Though--that’s only when he isn’t hoping he’ll make frost like his other Mum! Or talk to animals like Sven, or carve ice like Kristoff, or maybe his talent will just be knowing things, like Queen Iduna. Oh, he’d love to know things-- to know the names of every colour, to know the words of every story, to know how to make the Mums happy, so every night can be as bright as this wide-awake night.
“Again, Mums,” he asks, still too excited to sleep. “Please? One more time.”
And his Mums ruffle his coppery hair and they begin the story over again. Oh, Olaf thinks, he hopes it never ends.
####
Olaf doesn’t remember meeting Sindri. Sindri has always been there, like the sky is there--  like the first snowfall in the morning that freshens the powder, so when the sun rises, the Hollow gleams brightly like the surface of the moon. He wakes up early to watch the snow-talents make this first flight. He can depend on it like he can the Mums, Sven, Kristoff-- and Sindri.
What he does remember though is when Sindri makes his first frost. His friend tugs one flower from his mother’s flower crown and the frost covers the petals in the prettiest blue blanket. He gives his frosted flower to Olaf. Olaf holds it, refuses to give it back, until the frost melts in Olaf’s hands.
He tries to frost it back. But he can’t...
“How do you do it?” he whispers to Sindri. But Sindri doesn’t know how he did it. He just did it. That’s okay! Olaf doesn’t have to be a Frost-talent. His best friend is a Frost-Talent. And Olaf’s new favourite color becomes the glossy blue of Sindri’s fingers when he uses his talent-- on flowers, on berries, on pinecones--all presents for Olaf, that will last as long as it snows in the morning.
And it always snows in the morning.
####
Anna-Mum takes him to see the Aurora-talents. He holds her hand as she tugs him higher than she’s ever flown. The air crisps in his lungs and tickles his fingers, turning them pink. Anna-mum’s fingers are already pink, but pink like the soft inside of a rabbit’s ear. She draws a pink O into the sky, then a blue O, then a pink A, than a blue F. O-L-A-F.
“Look, bunny! What’s that say?”
Olaf reaches for the O and his stretched fingers swipe through nothing. His eyes widen. It looks so real, like ribbons from Anna-mum’s braids.
Anna-Mum pinches the O and wraps it up onto her hand again. “It’s okay, Olaf,” she says, but she sounds sad.
Later, Olaf will keep trying to hold light in his hand, wishing he could bring it to Anna and make her smile.
####
Reindeers love Olaf, but he’s allergic to them. He sneezes on top of Magnus’s head and Sven carries him down.
Olaf loves snow angels and he builds snow-bunnies and snow-foxes and snow-fairies too, but he can’t craft even the littlest snowflake, not like his friend Blenky, and not like Ricer either.
Olaf’s wings are large and velvety-soft, snow-white and down-gray like cabbage moths. They’re beautiful but no blizzard-talent would ever have wings like that.
It’s okay, says Elsa-Mum. He’ll find his talent in time.
It’s okay, says Anna-Mum. He’ll always be their special little Olaf.
It’s okay, says Sindri. I still love you the most.
Every night, Olaf puts his elbows on his window sill and looks up at the wide-awake sky. He wonders to himself-- where do talents come from and why hasn’t his arrived? Are they a piece of the sky? Are they somewhere in the stars? Do they fall to earth on their own, or do they need a little tug?
“Is there a talent for finding talents?” he asks his Mums. “Do you think that’ll be my talent?”
They kiss him goodnight and tell him not to worry, that his talent will reveal itself, they always do.
But he dreams of flying up into the sky and casting a fishing line into the colours, then reeling his talent in. It’s bright and beautiful and when he holds it up to his ear, it whispers hello.
####
Arrival Night does what it does best: it arrives.
This is the night, this is THE night! Olaf is five years old. After tonight, Olaf will know what gift is nestled inside him, like a seed buried under the snow. Olaf’s soft cream wings flutter him in clumsy circles in front of the door, and he counts down.
“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen!”
“Someone’s an impatient little snow man.”
“Twelve, eleven, ten-- three, two one!” Olaf scrunches his nose. “Time to go, Mums!”
“Don’t you want to wait for Sindri, Olaf?” It’s a question, but Elsa-Mum can make any question sound like not a question: Wait for Sindri, Olaf.
Olaf blows out air and then plops in front of the door. “Everyone is too slow! I think I’m a Blizzard-Talent after all!” He throws up his hands and wiggles his fingers and whooses like the squalls that blow through the Hollow in the darkest wintery nights. Unfortunately, this doesn’t make his family move any faster.
Finally, Sindri arrives with his parents. He looks paler than normal and he’s quiet as snowfall. They toddle together hand-in-hand, Anna-Mum holding Olaf’s other hand, and Sindri’s mother holding Sindri’s. Sindri pouts and looks ahead and barely says a word until their parents have kissed them goodbye and left them in the little pack of other Fresh Arrivals just like them. Olaf nudges his shoe against Sindri’s shoe, and when Sindri looks up, Olaf presses his hands against Sindri’s cheeks to squish them together. “You’re one big snowball” he teases.
“I feel sick.” Sindri pouts. His dark eyes are deep as slush puddles.
“You’re just scared. But that’s okay! Me too!” Olaf whispers. “I think everyone here is scared.”
“Nuh-uh. You don’t seem scared.”
Olaf nods. “I am. But I’m excited too. I think-- whatever I am is gonna be the best thing. I have a feeling.”  
Sindri blinks slow, which means he has a big Think starting to snowball inside. He looks away and then down at his own hands. “...what if I’m not a Frost Talent after all?” he mumbles finally. “I know that’s dumb. I know...I
” Sindri lifts his palm and holds them up. His fingers shake just a little. “I keep
 this morning, I couldn’t make even a little flower
what if
”
Olaf doesn’t let Sindri finish. He wraps his arms around Sindri instead, squishing his cheek against Sindri’s cheeks, which are, yes, round and white like the snowballs forming in Sindri’s head. Olaf grins so his friend can feel his dimples and the rosy warmth of his smile. Olaf believes in things like that-- that smiles can be felt, not jst seen. And they’re warm, like the heated coals that the sledding-talents stuff in their pockets to keep them cozy.
“You’re the best Frost Talent there is,” he tells his friend. “So don’t be dumb.”
Sindri squeaks, but then he’s laughing. “I’m not dumb!”
“No, you’re not! Youuuuuuu’re a
.”
“...a Frost-Talent. Okay, okay, okay, you’re right!” Sindri is still laughing. He wraps his arms around Olaf and squishes him back. “My tummy doesn’t hurt as much anymore. You’re gonna have an amazing Talent, Olaf.”
Olaf pulls away so he can grin ear-to-ear. “I know!”
And then it’s time to begin.
The chatter among the nervous First Arrivals fades all at once as Queen Iduna enters. Everyone hushes. Holds their breaths. The fairy lights lift into the sky, hovering above each of the chosen tokens that represent each talent. Every fairy locks their eyes on their Queen, whose skirt cascades in waves of soft blue pixie dust from their Hollow Spring.
Everyone but Olaf.
Olaf’s eyes dart among the tokens. They all look so interesting! The little pickaxe from the sledding-talents. The pinecone from the evergreens! The perfect cube of ice from the ice-talents, the frosted berries from the frost-talents, the snowman from the snow-talents! He wants to touch each one. Pick me, pick me! He’d coo and bat his eyelashes. He bites down on his lip and his hands itch and itch.
One by one, Olaf watches the fledglings his age enter the center. Each one is dressed in white. They look up at Queen Iduna, bow or curtsy, and then, one by one, the pixie dust is poured over them and they find their talent.
Ricer and Blenky are Snowflake-talents, because of course they are! Petur picks up the hammer and he’s a Tinker now, just like his mother.
Olaf keeps his eyes darting around the tokens. Maybe the ladle, he thinks. He’ll be a cooking-talent and make yummy soup every day. Orororor--the yarn! He’ll weave cozy sweaters to keep Sindri warm when he’s frosting throughout the banks.
“Olaf.” Sindri nudges him with his elbow. Olaf starts. “Olaf, it’s your turn!”
“Already?” Olaf says much too loudly. A ripple of laughter passes through the gathered crowd and Olaf blushes. He scrambles out into the circle, in the middle of all those tokens that feel like they are whispering his name.
He needs to pay attention now, he knows that. But his eyes drift a second time, looking among all those friendly faces

“Hi Mums!” he exclaims when he finds them and begins to wave frantically. Elsa-Mum and Anna-Mum wave back. Another wave of laughter moves through the crowd. Olaf pulls up his tunic over the nose because now he’s shy and red-cheeked like holly berries.
But its time now. Its time! Olaf rocks forward on his toes and looks up at beautiful Queen Iduna. She sparkles. He holds out his hands, cupped, to receive his gift.
“Olaf, welcome. Today you have arrived in our Hollow,” recites the Queen. “Today, you find your place.”
She pours the stream of blue pixie dust into his hands as the crowd repeats her words. Today you have arrived in our Hollow. Today, you find your place. Today you have arrived in our Hollow. Today, you find your place. Today you have arrived in our Hollow. Today, you find your place.
Olaf closes his eyes. Welcome, he thinks. He thinks it with his whole chest as it opens.
Welcome.
And with his eyes closed, he can see it, the perfect blue of the dust.
Welcome.
And in his heart he can feel it, a stirring, a knowing. It is blue. It is blue.
Welcome.
It spreads through him, gathering in his toes. His eyes snap open and his fingers curl into his fists, for the pixie dust is no longer there. Olaf sparkles inside, blue like the Queen. He can hear the rushing of the river that runs through the heart of this forest, the river that feeds the Hollow Spring and makes it glow with dust.
Everyone holds their breath, except for this river. They are waiting. Waiting for the answer.
And then the blue glow inside Olaf slowly dims.
It’s the Queen’s face that changes first and tells Olaf that something might not have gone the way it should. Because oh-- frostbite. That’s right. He was supposed to go pick up a token, wasn’t he? He blinks and peers around the Queen. The tokens are still there, washed in the fairy light. They still feel like they beckon to him, but not more than before, not one more than the other.
Uh-oh. Everyone is waiting for him--
Olaf grabs his tunic and pulls it over his nose again. “Uh-oh,” he squeaks.
This time, no one laughs.
Olaf blinks. “Can I go again?” He says it through his tunic, then tugs it down. “Sorry! I mean--I think I was closing my eyes too long. Can I go again?” He looks at his Mums. They don’t wave. He looks over his shoulder, trying to find Sindri, but he is too small, swallowed behind the faces of everyone else. He looks at the Queen. She brushes his fringe from his wide, confused eyes.  
“Don’t panic, little one. There’s a place for you here, a very big place.” She turns to the rest of the Hollow and raises her voice. “Helper-talent!”
Olaf blinks. The applause starts slow, then grows, until Olaf can’t help but smile because—this is it! It must be it because Queen Iduna, she Knows.
“Oh,” he says and waves again at Elsa-Mum and Anna-Mum. Helper-Talent, that’s what he is. He has a Talent! He has a Talent! “I’m a Helper-Talent!” he exclaims, thrusting his hands into the air.
It’s only a minute later, when the applause has finished and he’s halfway back to the rest of the First Arrivals that Olaf realizes something very important.  
“Wait,” he says, and cocks his head. “What’s Helper-Talent?”
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