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googleitlol · 2 years ago

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My Beloved: Ch. 5

Coming Home

"You have to attack me, Sandy!" I looked up at my big blue friend, the two of us sparring against each other in Monkey Mech. MK and Mei were playing at first, but the latter stepped away to answer her phone.

So I quickly shoved my little brother aside to show Sandy how to play. However, It was proving to be more difficult than I first thought it'd be. "But why can't we do something other than fight each other? You're my friend."

"There's no tea in Monkey Mech!" MK jumped onto the man's shoulders, Mo jumping out of his way as he reached over to show Sandy what to do. "Only destruction!"

I laughed at the boy. "You talk a big game for someone who just mashes the buttons without learning the combos." His glare burned into the side of my head as I continued to hold off the combined— albeit, uncoordinated— might of my two friends.

"Yes, mother..." Mei sighed behind us. I glanced back at her, shoulders slumped and back turned to us.

Sandy and I shared a look, and I silently nodded before stepping away and approaching our friend. "Hey, Mei-Mei. Everything all good?"

"Yeah!" She immediately perked up, making me frown. Mei wasn't one to express her troubles easily, and I fixed her with a knowing look. She sighed at my silent response, looking away. "It's just... my parents. They want me to housesit."

I nodded in understanding. There was a little workshop Mei and I used to store and work on our projects, her parents have come by a few times to check in on her. They seemed nice, but very formal and apprehensive around the idea of their daughter working in our... organized mess. "Do you want me to come along? I can keep you company if you wan—"

"Did somebody say sleepover at Mei's house?!" MK butted in, jumping between us with a wide grin stretched across his face.

"Wha?! No! My parents would—"

"SLEEPOVER!" MK cheered before muttering to himself. "I've always wanted to see inside Mei's secret dragon house full of secret dragon stuff!"

Sandy, Mei and I all exchanged looks. "... You know we can all hear you, right?"

Unfazed, MK turned back to us. "Please! Come on, please, please, please, please!"

I looked back at Mei, who seemed uncertain. "It's up to you, girl. I can make sure they don't break anything." I reassured my friend, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Meeting my eyes, she smiled. "Okay, then. Sleepover it is."

MK cheered at her agreement, and I looked over to Sandy. Making eye contact, I mouthed, 'Help watch him'. He gave me a thumbs up and I sighed. I knew how this sort of thing could stress Mei out. Hopefully, nothing too chaotic would happen at the sleepover.

~~~~

Princess Iron Fan watched the group through the eyes of General Ironclad, screens appearing before her containing information on an ancient relic. "The legendary dragon blade? That blade is amongst the most powerful artifacts in history."

An array of holographic weapons and artifacts displayed around her. "I do love powerful things." She grinned before looking back at the camera feed of her general.

The woman in the group wrapped an arm around the dragon-girl's shoulder as they began to walk off together. Princess Iron Fan narrowed her eyes at the feed, memories of the past reawakening. "Go, bring it to me." She instructed as the screen before her turned off.

Turning away, she looked down to her infamous fan. "It's time I have a little reunion with an old friend."

~~~~

"Now, MK," I fixed the boy with a stern look, "I don't want any broken vases, figurines, statues— nothing. Got that?" I crossed my arms as the boy walked ahead of me.

He nodded absentmindedly to my words. "Mmhmm, got it." Heaven, help this boy.

We arrived at Mei's home, a grand— it had to have been a mansion. Her home was enormous! The front yard itself was the size of a school field, trees covered by autumn leaves lined the walkway. MK and Sandy looked to and fro in utter awe.

"It's even better than I thought!" MK was practically bouncing off the walls as I walked with Mei, her hands tucked into her jacket. "Growing up here must've been great!"

Mei sighed, her eyes glued to the ground. "Yeah, I guess. But— I don't know. When I was growing up, I just wanted to be rough and tumble. Break stuff. Look at bugs. You know, have fun just like normal girl stuff. But when your house is pretty much a museum and you come from a long line of ancient, noble dragons, that's kind of frowned on."

I patted the girl's back, making her look back at me. Offering her a smile, she did the same. I couldn't quite relate to how she felt, having no recollection of my own childhood, but I understood what it meant to hold up the expectations of others.

Back in my early ages, villages who had heard of my name and apparent immortality, would often come to me requesting aid. Their tasks ranged from matters as simple as construction to as difficult as vanquishing demons. The expectations of others was a weight quite unlike any other, and fear of failure only made it that much heavier.

Mei looked back to the group. "Anyway... Onwards to the definitely-not-going-to-be-terrible sleepover!" Sandy and MK took off towards the front door as she spoke, making me roll my eyes.

They gawked at the dragon head mounted on the doorway, it's eyes glowing red as it scanned over them. Then they gasped as it suddenly lunged forward, it's mouth agape and charging some kind of energy blast with a multitude of other guns and blasters pointed at the two.

Before MK could utter a word, Mei leapt into action and covered his mouth, disarming the defences. The girl laughed softly as the weapons retracted into their original positions. "Yeah, my parents are a bit serious about the whole 'security' thing."

As the door to the house opened, a robotic voice filled its halls. "Welcome home, Mei." We all looked around the front hall in sheer amazement. It had been some time since I had seen anything like this. Stands lined the walls in dragon-scale armour, carrying spears, several shields and weapons sat upon pedestals, artifacts and statues that looked older than I were proudly displayed.

Immediately, I grabbed MK by the back of his collar as he attempted to run forward. "Nope."

"Ack—" He choked for a moment from the abrupt stop.

"Hands. Pockets. Now." I deadpanned, the boy pouting at me as he slowly complied. I glanced over at Sandy, who had his hands outstretched towards a statue.

He quickly put his hands in his pockets as well. Mei looked at me with a grateful smile. "Thanks."

I nodded, returning the look before releasing the boy from my death grip. "Sorry, mOM." MK mumbled, and I tried my best not to snicker.

We followed Mei through her house as she gave us a tour. It felt odd to me how her home felt bigger on the inside than the outside, and it was very well taken care of. When we got to the dragon claw chamber, I couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship of the dragon blade.

Personally, I never quite dabbled in the crafting of weapons. Maybe a quick spear or too, but nothing more. I could, however, appreciate the work and thought that went into the sword. I had handled enough weapons in my time to know many hours must have been put into such a blade.

As we began to exit the chamber, I noticed our tour guide falling behind. "You coming, Mei?"

"Right behind you." She called back, running after us and bringing the group into the gaming room.

MK practically died when he caught sight of a golden pinball machine. His eyes sparkled at the sight of it. "A pinball machine?! I've always wanted to try one of these!"

I whistled at the game, looking over it myself. "I haven't seen one of these in a looong time."

"Yeah, now this place is home." Mei sighed, as if she was finally able to relax. She took her hands out of her pockets, folding them behind her head.

The girl pointed to Sandy and MK. "You two, boot up the old tv. Lian and I will go get some sn-n-n-nacks!" She cheered, grabbing my arm and dragging me out of the room and down the hall.

Before she could drag me along with her, I looked back to MK. "Remember: no. Breaking. Anything."

"I won't! Sheesh, I'm an adult, too, you know."

"Then act like it!"

Guiding me to the kitchen, Mei began raiding the cupboards for chips and bowls, stuffing some popcorn into a popcorn machine they had sitting in the corner. "Thanks for helping me out, Lian. Maybe this sleepover won't be totally terrible."

"Anytime, girl. I know MK can be a lot to handle sometimes, especially whenever either of you to find something to geek out over." I began pouring the chips into the large bowls she set out.

Mei scoffed, her smile still present. "I'm not a geek! I'm way too cool to be like that."

Facing the girl, I deadpanned. "Mei-Mei, remind me exactly what I woke up to the night after I told you guys about my immortality." It was like a bead of sweat dripped down the side of her face as I brought up the incident.

She chuckled nervously as I shook my head. "Be glad I settled for 'geek' and not 'creeper'."

"Okay, point taken." She let out a nervous laugh as we waited for the popcorn to pop. Mei moved over to the fridge, taking out a few bottles of soda for us to carry back afterwards and some disposable cups.

Once everything was ready, we were quick to grab everything else we needed. Mei mentally checked off her list of items as we sped down the halls. "Party, board games, snacks, bull clone—"

Hold up.

The two of us looked back into the dragon claw chamber. Low and behold, standing on the statue that displayed the dragon blade was a bull clone in a cape. It was struggling to remove the sword that was lodged between the claws of the dragon statue and the Jade stand under it.

After an awkward moment of silence shared by the three of us, Mei dropped her party games and snacks. "Wait a minute, you're a bull clone!"

The clone quickly kicked the jade stand at us, and I was able to pull Mei out of the way just before it could hit her. Making sure she was okay, I locked my eyes on the bull clone that quickly began to sprint away.

Mei jumped to her feet. "Hey, get back here!" She yelled as I got up to chase after them.

Before I could pursue the two, a gust of wind sent me flying back. I tumbled to the ground, reorienting myself as I looked up to see a certain demoness blocking my path. She looked down at me with a smirk, my blood running cold.

"Let's talk."

Hahaha, I'm in danger.

My hair blew in my face as wind picked up around us. I felt as though I were in the midst of a tornado, the wind wildly blowing in every which direction and obscuring my sense of direction. When it finally died down, we were no longer in Mei's home.

Instead, the Flaming Foundry of the Demon Bull Family surrounded us, my eyes widening at the change in location. It was much hotter in here, the air dry and slightly burned as I inhaled it. Making eye contact with Princess Iron Fan, she grinned. "Finally. Without your group of children, we can finally..."

"Nope. I've lived too long to die in an evil lava lair." I charged, taking a swing at the Princess.

She quickly dodged, leaning out of the way and floating back, her feet not once touching the ground. Jumping back, she waved her fan down in my direction, summoning powerful winds that sent me flying into a stone wall.

I gasped a little at the impact, the demon was quick to not let me recover and was inches from my face in an instant. Her stupid fan was way too powerful. "You were not brought here to cause a disturbance."

"Yeah, well then you shouldn't have grabbed me while I was trying to relax at a sleepover!" I shouted, a familiar feeling overtaking myself as something materialized in my hands. Shoving the woman away, I was surprised to watch her go flying across the Foundry.

A white glow illuminated in my hands, and I looked down to find... a replica of Iron Fan's fan?! It was completely white, just like the staff at the Weather Station. "A False Fan?"

"You can use your arsenal?" My eyes shot back to Princess Iron Fan, the demon in apparent shock.

My grip tightening around the fan, I grinned. "Looks like it." With a wave, wind sent bull clones and various materials flying into the air. Swinging, I sent them all towards the Princess, the woman watching with wide eyes before dodging the attack.

I whistled a little to myself. "I see why you use this thing, it is awesome!" With a shout, I moved to take another swing at the villain before the wind was knocked out of me. I was hit square on my back, falling forward with a thud.

The False Fan vanished as I gasped for breath, turning back to see none other than the Demon Bull King glaring down at me. "You dare to attack my wife? In our home?!"

Well, it was nice being immortal while it lasted.

"Have patience, my Love." Princess Iron Fan approached her husband, resting a hand on his arm to soothe him. "She wasn't brought here to fight."

I frowned, still catching my breath. "I wasn't?"

"Still as excitable as I remember." She hummed, looking down at me. There was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, taking me aback. What confused me even more was when she offered me her hand to help me up.

Regaining my composure, I took it. Demon Bull King still looked like he was ready to wring out my neck, though he stayed silent. "It's time we had a discussion." The Princess explained, taking my attention.

"...About what, exactly?" I frowned, totally lost. Wasn't it only a little while ago that their son tried taking over the Weather Station? Didn't the whole family try destroying the city a few weeks ago? What could they want to talk about, making a rival food chain to compete with Pigsy?

The Bull King huffed as his wife narrowed her eyes. "You don't know much about yourself, do you?"

The question took me by surprise. "I'm... I'm Yi Lian, an immortal who's been helping humanity however I can. And right now that's by helping MK take care of demons like you—"

"Not who you think you are. Who you really are."

Her words made me pause, my thumb finding my golden ring and began to rub it in comfort. So this was about my past life, huh? I looked away. "That... that doesn't matter." My words seemed to take her by surprise.

"I'm happy with who I am now, so whatever business you had with me back then, I'm a different person—" Before I could continue, she cut me off again.

"What, do you think of us as your enemies?" She scoffed, almost as if in amusement.

Her reaction only confused me more. "...Yes?" A pit sunk in my stomach and I found myself hoping I wasn't some evil monster in my old life. Is this why Monkey King was so weird around me? Were the plums just to stave my dark hunger for chaos??

DBK finally put his input into the conversation. "You created the weapon my wife wields today." He huffed, his eyes growing softer as he looked down to his wife in admiration.

"It was also because of your guidance that we gave one another a chance at love."

"...What."

"WHAT?!" We all turned to see Red Son, who had seemingly been eavesdropping on the conversation.

I looked at him with wide eyes. "How long have you been there?!"

His parents ignored their son's outburst, Princess Iron Fan turning to me. "We would be delighted to tell you more and recount our days before your disappearance... but we won't give you everything for nothing."

"We knew the simian would say nothing to you." Demon Bull King huffed. "By pledging your allegiance to the Demon Bull Family, you will regain old allies as well as past knowledge."

I looked between the two of them, unable to form coherent words. They've confirmed it, Monkey King is holding information from me. Not only that, I was friends with the Demon Bull Family? It sounded like we were close if what they're saying was true.

"We don't expect an answer immediately..." Princess Iron Fan explained, stepping forward.

"...But we expect one soon." Her husband finished.

Taking my hand, the Princess gave me a small smile. "I will return you to your 'sleepover', but remember: the information we gave you is trivial, insignificant. If you truly want to learn of your origins, you will join us."

The Demon Bull King grunted at that. His anger from the fight seemed to have faded, though his narrowed eyes did nothing to soothe me. "You will fight either with or against our family. You remained neutral once... and you can see where that left you."

"Wait, what?" I frowned but before he could elaborate, the gusts of wind summoned by his wife's fan blinded me. The hot air of the Foundry was suddenly gone, and in the blink of an eye I was in the halls of the Dragon estate.

As if things weren't weird and confusing enough, in front of us laid the many artifacts of the house shattered and destroyed. Mei and her parents hugged by the door where MK and Sandy stood with them, the entire group staring at me and my... maybe friend?

"Remember, you have a place with us." Iron Fan whispered just loud enough for only me to hear before looking at the group and area with an unimpressed look. "I don't think your decision will be a difficult one."

Then, in a gust of wind, she was gone. It suddenly got very quiet in that hallway, my friends and I exchanging a blank stare.

I felt like all the jumping from here to the Foundry back to here had given me whiplash. One moment, I'm chasing a bull clone with Mei, the next, I'm being asked to join the dark side and betray my current friends for my old ones, and now my friends are all staring at me like the matriarch of our enemies just dropped me off at school. Because that's essentially what just happened.

"Uh... I can explain." I spoke slowly, the group continuing to stare at me blankly, still at a loss for words.

"... I think I hooked up Princess Iron Fan and DBK hundreds of years ago."

Word Count: 3248

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#lego monkie kid #lmk #monkie kid #my beloved #lmk x oc #the memory of you #tmoy

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lgcseojin · 3 days ago

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⸻ @lgcakio

it’s early on the 24th of december, still in the middle of the night. akio isn’t sure if seojin celebrates christmas on the 25th, but since they have a schedule tomorrow, he figures he might as well do it now. he’s been out of sorts these past few days, his cheerful demeanor replaced with a sadness so deep that even the most caring and willing people in his life can’t erase. still, akio has a way to find light even through the darkest times, and focusing on other people seems like an effective way to achieve it. he rolls out of bed, sheets barely messed up because he hasn’t been sleeping. there’s a present on his desk, that he wrapped a few hours ago, after saying goodnight and locking himself in his room.

he also got presents for the other members, but put them all in the common area for them to open when they get up. seojin’s is more special, however, so he wants him to open it on his own rather than in front of everybody else. he sneaks out of his room, tiptoeing as quietly as he can to seojin and yeonwoo’s room. he turns the doorknob which thankfully isn’t locked, and cracks the door open to peek inside. everything is dark, and by the sounds of their peaceful and steady breathing, both men seem to be in deep sleep. perfect.

he leaves the wrapped present on seojin’s nightstand, which he’ll hopefully see first thing when he wakes up. akio used blue wrapping paper covered in white snowflakes, which still gives off winter vibes without being too christmassy, which akio can’t really handle right now. there’s a card on top of it, which reads the following:

“hyung,

i didn’t get you a material gift for your birthday, but i had to this time. i thought it would look nice in your studio, so even if you don’t use this type, it can serve as decor!

most of all, i wanted to say thank you for everything. for being there for me, for putting up with me, for helping me grow into a better person and a better artist. i’m glad we can share this journey together.

your little brother,

akio.”

the gift is a wooden box containing guitar picks made of the same material. everything is customized to fit seojin’s taste and aesthetics, to the best of akio’s knowledge. he knows the older one likes to guitar and wood carving, which gave him the idea to blend in the two, kind of. he’s not sure if seojin even likes to use wooden picks, doesn’t really known if there’s a difference between them and plastic ones since he’s not a musician himself. but they’re at least very pretty, or so he thinks, so even if not used, they can serve as decoration, as stated in his letter. the box has his stage name on it, “SEN” (with the same carving of the hand holding the guitar). each guitar pick has been personalized as well: the first one with his stage name on it, the second with a sun and moon carving resembling one of seojin’s tattoo, the third with music notes and the fourth with the kanji for ‘music’, 音楽.

Seojin kept a close eye on Akio. It became something of a habit ever since their training brought them closer and closer ( often alone together ) since last year. It took him little deduction to figure out why the younger man glanced from the colorful lights and decorated pine trees that came up when the scent of Christmas was just over the horizon. What brought Seojin quiet smiles turned Akio’s expression dower and the chipper personality into a withdrawn one. He pieced it together quite easily, understood easily, too, when all the information came together in a painful picture. Rather than sorrowful, he felt angry — enraged that the world would do anything to crush the spirit of the person who has been his tether when things felt so alone and uncertain in those months by each other’s side.

But he is not so sure what he has done to deserve someone like Akio, let alone the world. The thought of such runs through his mind when he tears open the gift left for him on his nightstand. His fingers trace over the wooden box, then each individual pick nestled in the smooth grooves. He does not take too much time to ruminate over the present after looking over each detail. He sets it back on his nightstand and stands to rifle through one of his drawers to pull out a box of his own.

The silence of the dorm is cut with the creaking open of Akio’s bedroom door — the one he shared with only himself and the decorations on his wall. He doesn’t call out his name when he sees him sitting on the edge of his bed. Instead, he quietly joins him, listening to the way the mattress shifts beneath their joined weight.

“Thank you for the present,” a hand finds itself atop Akio’s shoulder. Then, a pregnant pause to allow him to sigh. “Y’know... Wanna know why I started to like this time of year so much?” he does not wait for an answer, nor does he glance over at him yet. His focus remains on the window that peers out of the room.

“Back at the orphanage, it was always a big deal. We decorated the place, watched movies, went out to play in the snow if the sisters wanted to bother with our muddy shoes that day. At the end of the night on the 11th, exactly two weeks before Christmas, they told us to write down our wish and to pray as hard as we could and Santa would bring us exactly what we wanted. I really thought he was real back then. Every night, I would pray to God, asking for a family, but when it came to Santa, I asked for the stupidest things. A new RC car, as much jjajangmyeon as I could eat... Every time, the things I wanted happened. I felt happy for once each time that time of year. They even told me... the day I got left there was the day before Christmas. So, I thought maybe I’m here to enjoy this time of year and spread it,” he pauses again; this time to laugh at himself. “It’s a stupid reason to like it, probably... but it’s the only good memory I have from that time,” finally, he glances over to Akio, not expecting their eyes to meet. “I want to make good memories for you, too.”

He pries open the small cardboard box, pulling out a painted wooden carving of a bird and placing it in Akio’s hands. Its feathers are painted carefully of teal and gold. “There’s an ancient Greek story about this bird... Alcyone was so despaired by the death of Ceyx that she joined him in the rolling waves. Their display of love was so strong that even cruel Zeus took pity and turned them into Kingfishers so they could be together again forever in peace,” Seojin cups his hand over Akio’s and closes it over the bird. “I want you to live in halcyon days forever, Kurosawa Akio. My little brother. It won’t be hard forever. Promise. Not as long as I’m here.”

#submission #hhnnnnnghhhhhhghghhg i cried #lgcakio

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libidomechanica · 2 years ago

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Untitled (“I am only giving that) call a bird-understand”)

A rispetto sequence

At someone asks—You haven’t both good aboundeth. Cheered and went singing us all: wrecked deede: and more than that deity. I am only giving that call a bird-understand. With theyr hornes butten the sun, and Earth, and hope no relief; undone by one’s going to do with those weary as I am losing my lasse, to worke is conuenable. We han great.

Seeping too and fresh winds are full of sport, and still on Menie doat, and below not a breath, this countered, he went mad, and raging, bend the love of words wherein campeth, spread, who taught her arms and singing it to happen. With many Graces, and around you give me welcome, next my heaven that I shall I the mountains, skipping grace in this false bonds of rising sunflower.

On the floating weft, where all his whole life and daughters. And hear her forehead hopefully shines, bright: such pierlesse pate. That thou leau’st the snow cover me, my mother, in the nut if, after hastely thy siluer sound. The holy flesh furthermore how did Judas was touch! That the commonplace I freeze her, tongue; and the light seized with my milk: eat, O love were two at her sight.

In trifles no store and screw out all of my own, who camest to me; he shatters his ankle during a though in them my life, climbing the object whereupon, in anger flying to his garden ground thee wings impetuous some winter, with people call a bee. Said he, Look how you’re drive all need with love. Yes, call me by the end of the judgment of my Sick Soul! Love!

Going slightless seas of selfishness amain: seas that appear; nor doth but plainly of not turning away from hurt you hast ravishing love in fields with pale uncertain light each May morning; if these my wings of Them it could not find each outward walls of jet. Drinking and made her gilded leaues or colour of summer breeze is whispering in each other in the rain.

Now the sleep as its only instructed wrong . She strong when I perceive that the spices: a fountain-source of words where Byrds of Engedi. The feeling are one. For fear. Love as bright, let temple’s gate. One upon life’s first sight, with contend. Tis Phillis, that is at best thou shalt thou? Lest that our Sex betraide, and thoughts, sold cheap what is Woman? Bred in my mind, the burning her.

While the whole life a fruitful marriage temple, saying—Never Night and strength might become more than another was far more pleasure. The fabric of mi skirt, just so much, and run again as I do vow and quite gone, beauty’s name; but no such man’s heart knows what is dead Unconstant mind, theyr youry Luyts and merciable, and although not able is towards thereof of silver.

A heart draws near that were Hobbin how I was ten, skinny, red-headed, freckled. My mistress bids me wear the bump I ride in my veins. We have heard no longer. And sad-sighing and what way they will come, and angels were made the level of you asleep and breath, till twilight footsteps of their stranger. And oft I blush’d to see, you can many times do I love appeareth.

Seeping house same heart, the Bramble bush, the broad ways I will forgetting thy power to sting is played out in advance in secret influence comment; when I was so fonde, to crowned with tryed state, neede feare of Poets fury tell, while ever to remain. I met her look the doubtful story, to woo,—and—Lord knows my love so much, no more the banqueting house are cedars.

The two of theyr peace. I had no quiet, a few friends, those whom we can, if wee must, let’s sing o’re, and comes ane an’ twenty, Tam! It gouges out and cruel stars, and the core o’ the world thou art made, why come you can make a seizure on the day, and I mysel’ hae plentye: and mock me, and straight did not thy shame and disappoint myself than she knowne gayne, oft liues within his grief.

The evening through he took himself than she is foiled. And other self I lye. We may look up, to drop on a new rays that watch’d thy early in the shepheards voyce, but now when I’ll brush her covert nest a little that it to me, will pype and drink of her mother brother is a matter what poverty my Muse brings forth, I would I were a mermaid now, for heart. What’s that?

Darkening valley, and the soueraigne head upon me: my mother behold, thou should him for balance. Compare may thee proofe I may well recount, but now is time, I looked back upon that gave the soft beams, injoying of me; well, if it ended in the Shulamite; return. The mandrakes give all the places of anguishing novel, nothing. Some found again, only to speak.

I dempt there you will knowest thou now? That valleys, groves, hills and feeds on me some heat and teaches him the argument all but bespeak thy grave, and the red dress; for brawly weel he ken’d the steaming tea and Land, yet what thirst, my dear, dear love, and for excess of maidenhood against a telephone pole, and o’re, our own dear- purchased right than the fawn that I can praise her?

I think that sin is soon after-comming harme did not show us to our Eyes; a Cataract that, oft I hear the sad augurs mock their smiles encounterpart,. Drown it: if a mightier arm could new though parent’s evening, and hers the very same and below not a breath so sad as I, thoughts that you have? Me home apace, least night long growing in slow and said, Gee woe!

From thence into a crystal I conclude my pains? When she sits and Tamburins forgoe: and had not long as Death, retrieves as well. Seemed singing out, my fancye eke from the night, your sight. The winds shook the mouth to the gardens, and nothing strong your eyes should not, I opine, and be kind at rest but strictly held by none, yet I know she is. The way I think he will make toward the door.

The iolly hole in them. And Sally Brown, what a mortgage was. And understand. Both broken faith and she what I waking, half sighing to leave to quench or cool me with vision, and then they sat around you have one good, Christian woman’s hearse we are always and light than in hue, all hues’ in his head is filled by my soul loveth: I sought her call was heard, that watch you new.

The people would do. I watch and ransom all ill deeds. A jet streams from a game. And whining, and the orchard of all; if one of homely sheepe that saist thou art my life, in brief while the king hath been told in your sleeping, which the sight I make moan all spleenful folly was drown it: if a man would they preuaile as much war then it gets better but shore. Take away my veins.

Through that bound in each other’s windows in clusters oh, you wide oppen this obedience, looking thought I trace that fears be: just so much honor, when it gets differently did drop, and layen baytes to bene ytost: thy love’s mine idle life or breath? Wait for mind spills through all the please. The sound and bade me go to the sun hath her heart as the stairs, less false compare.

With any Letter of Fidelity; who ever read it the other on hylls, or dales, or other make the flocks of the eye. To know one thing he makes a Devil’s self denying. But is profaned, if not like to a roe or a young voice of blood-drops, as I know that no child’s foot, watch the eternal thirsty milk! Now my sweet Tibbie Dunbar? When I love you.

Robert Burns: “there his vision fleeting your mind. Because thee for grief, however wooed, and all by name. It doesn’t always. Less for feareth but in the ghost begins to weave the world. Learn mi lessons for me that swoons and the stately ships go on In the flowers and Dreams and me. Team hotel, the bitter barren woman! Then I knew no better leaue the words, of love again!

The outline of breeding cockatiels—clutch after you’ve risen. But as thou wilt be my ain. So late I not kept. Of flower, but if my sinful then, confesses love in fields with your dreamed. And press the indicative, only movement in her e’e? Love for his labour be: listening now to the grass, and see my love talke, and strength to help thee, mournful, sober-suited Night!

The little boote: for the dark, dark vault above— devoid of tears, the pleasure lies. By his tongue can speak—then the lattice. Fuel; I had two nickels to rub together love, ah my own, but if he knew was preserv’d by the foul with his sword upon thee Diggon, I lament thy case, that bad his fruit of worlds a melody that it lasts the pleated shirt sours my scent beneath.

Come thou thyself a motley to the pain I feel, to give news: niagara or Vesuvius is expected to give news: niagara is no sleepless, yet resign’d. In my time, I was not from the impalpable as udders were walking. And pledge the bush, where I have suffer dearth, painting the shepheards bene rough, and ruddy, the smell still, and stranger to my own.

Is the prince of the yellow, yellow star: So many noises and casten to see even in hell they hadn’t seen, and the bottom therefore do the vines have erred, and fruictfull flocks are cast on the earth and though the cause of thy nose is as a flock of goats that conceit her head. Blood- red he rose, and at once, she sat in front of every many beads there I have smiled at me.

Beams of our honour, I my jest: sad mortall sinnes the small bed to seek another grace in the ducklings cry, the sweat and still the world’s sunflower turns of thy grave, and as long done; an angel pure and sickness, that wretch auaile. Though before me like a vision vex me alive has seized my name, and yet I have loved so I cannot swim. Sing again, with what he said.

Mark but loued not; I lou’d, but all of miserye. The floating clouds the core o’ the world. Shall adorn my tomb; that night I’ve held your pleasure lies. If I had two nickels to rub together, we will go up to a dragon wherewith him betight. Thy neck is as ointment with me and May? What fond and we were such a pernicious and done to obtain; tis Phillis, that by.

The hurt is not these most deare, was simply did offence’s cross. Of their ways; I sit and go, thou not near that comes down and only by one aglint with sorrow and who keeping house for weight than this? As doth lie; even silence, nor will; but in two years later she smiled; then, enamour’d busy bee the rose the surface but let him kiss me with a sigh—it was daye light.

Shoulder, a birthday party where your owne leasure, a pleasures grow. Good, no enemy but winter and day could tread thee into it—that you, and I felt as I! Sylvia the fawn that swoons and wishing eye, or sleepy eyes I sleep without love, with me, and maken a Mart of their particularly sets him off, something that ye stir not up, nor awake my love.

My solitary time be compassion slide into her dearth,? Or what should have broken-hearted. The mortgage was. Tis Phillis, that Pity in the lark’s early morning’s dew, ne’er to be that must thy pity me? An’ it’s like lilies. Organ in their most dear, made old offence’s cross. In the old and told, love to sayne, the more than wine. In two cupped hands are lying stays.

The holy collect said or sung for wet filaree and was but a trick to poisoned jerkin from hanging a mile, more than a mile, more than we would lie; yet could take hold of these, no fears more rype, and sighing and kiss thee; I am so stiffe and successful too; winning posture all used up. In the ninety year old woman wert thou be a reprobate with her heart raves.

With your promise such falter now? Shalt beautiful, O my love, and even silence and pulled taut that Rich she smiled; then, how great’s that? ’Ning rose; but nowe her is a malformation just as it was damn’d to heauenly signes must sever; now snows fall the meadows, where thou list aduised be, and bless than a wasp can sting, and clasping and kissing, taking resolvèd; if to love.

Unfolds cleanly couer, that beats your Valentine? Yet he sweet Tibbie Dunbar? I love you. As if a Woolfe in his grave, and your hip; the sound overpowers, once a whole business of the wild-woods among, there’s the name, the naked into bed, the world was gone: my soul wears shiny boots like pillars of smooth and clear away, and’t shall adorn my tongueless crocodile.

Be well perhaps you spoke and bear it nor no man will live out my Wag. Then need I not do, thought the tale remember this heaven looks the ship afar: tossing, and women, years of might- have-beens, the singing it up become a man. Think not my love. Winged snake bite yu, when one of these and rough weather. Most tender to know one thing on it hath my added praise, o Muses!

And my face and yet to time your Valentine. Where are the chamber of her look told—Perhaps you said with love. The price to do whatever he was a nice young Chevalier. It’s got my number. The wind’s least of Knowledge sake, then by me. Show how they who never, she cries, shall see her life on through all things to keep my mind or body lies beside the sweet smelling my sight.

I think that appear before I show, than that doth come, thought to me befell; they were to lick th’ effused sacrilege, three or four days to do it plus the Gods deare Sonne betrayed him other the water, and so he chewed his pigtail till her temples be, t’ entertain that life thou alone with love me—wilt thou be a reprobate within. Know thee, O my loves.

Having denied the smell of Life—one little by little. The pit of your virtue hate, I do, yet dare not sweet: yea, he is my sin, ground, and the evensong; and, having denied the villagers quick and pearl, can vie with eyes wide white as was none but you are asleep in thee, wilt thou feedest, when it is the fault much love, and all day long back, and every one for me!

Of purest gold; a belt of strawberries, diaper’d with pain and we lie near each other is grilling creation with her the vines with sweet beauty born of murmurs to a single ballads o’er, the curre, and sighing and turn his middle age, he reeleth from the sky. At worst of fortune shewe forth: there is the pain of finite passionless, pale, cold face, that will I not kept.

Shall help thee, dear love, with a future that inhabits you forsloe, and unsmooth and she was holding his hand by a ghastly glimmer, and his lands and light its worth there. Referee. Was ratified this last word was what is at a loss what thou forget’st so long back at all. Ear, the curtain’d love’s missal through then I was a girl, this couple, were the note of all, that things prove.

Stay, stay, for it anew revive; inspired and the room: the vapor can the sailor hates the dark night I feel her growe. The air is as briefly did offended Prince, nought forbad, but all of thy neck with me from the night I’ve held most dere. For ever I was a lady’s heart is beauty o’ersnow’d and doat. And free as in the other petty griefs have our bed is green.

My nerves push again—wearing its curse onto my face; the place of desire than that guides me to prepare and that, as from a sip of hemlock, I’d expire without a sun though my obedience, looking at set off to seek the south, and make a seizure on that exists. An’ twenty, Tam! No hurt there are the Slave of Lust must still on Menie doat, and beg of you.

And best beloved, and the morning. And fill; but not till mine grows cold in your chest adrift between her mournful song; and, as we climbed the body deranges itself, and wine: or for only a few special animal thought I would eate it, who had bene. And thus, crying: help! With the chambers: we will remember, I lay on the morning. Some boy and mine than wine.

For me, I wil thee comfort neer. I gave me thou hast won? For thy revolt doth Phoebus gold that sin is soon absolvèd. For thy works on me some heat of light, metals, were life or breath, why should look at your job and careless crocodile. Whilst he liued, was the top of Amana, from a sunflower, but if these years ago you said something among the perfect musike giue.

And do not run too familiar care doth thine heart, will arrive before was a girl, this obedience, looking thee Proof that till itself to play a plait upon us that conceit of the current poured him whom my soul loveth: I sought him betight. On trembling dews. The young hart upon me as from a learned how silent grow, good Thenot leave my Verses higher.

Meadow kit foxes crave much, and Sea do know, has tantalized me many times do I love to look another brought, fast by their shining from the day, yet he sweetheart mine, then I, my though a strangely: but, by all the chest, flooding you like the shades hath weand my face house were squeez’d from thee? Thine heart, the vernal hues: her leafy locks. Her sinne was summ’d in YES, and never wauks.

And lilies. Shalt beauteous day, and thus of old thy coatie, sweet is thy turn this mop and mouthed erased. They waste the wood, for the wedding. Some old tomb’s ruin: yonder which he torment of my skin, love prick’d thee overcame my soul failed rehab and jail sentence still wilt cozen me. A crystal moon, clear as these. You vomit them out the Worse? And nothing but a day, and with me.

Among them back like a wig. This Child I to nurse the dazzling sun restored my vocal rage, and weariness and fire, ring retrograde our lowd desire but mummy, possess’d of either give something never saw a goddess go; my mistress of summer day will gaze her golden wing from leaf to leave all those fleshy principalities; show me those isles of Mary.

The whole soul with one of all, that say Good-bye too; and I took all those loves to see, you came not in my Song no more a-roving by their game of things to come homely sheepes clothing balm, and although not exactly, she is so good, that has thee hent, nethelesse thou art out of all my head. Then say, is only cured by quickness, that prove the offend, O help, O help!

If sudden capitulation giving worlds of the skidmarks of silver chain Your mind that the Chrysler building and all the fabulous for to woe. These living walls and feel for the foot of the true survey, if Time have as I could fold him from my soul was a stagnant tide till I could transfix the flower spring shut up, a fountains of spices: a fountain sealed.

Tamed by Miltown, we lie on Mother’s row, each shard, touch you new. The man in hue, all hues’ in his countenance is as a worm in my early lovèd, but I. My mistress might prove a girl, my boyling branches that all and the bird and sigh’d no surely, now forbear to give news: niagara or Vesuvius is destitute the eyes, I over-turn the ashen greyness.

To survive I forget his Jenny on his ’bacco box, he heaven above! We were terms for punishment is, come hither, come here next year ago, but never more bene with the whole soul was a cheat. Off like a visions for my head, he sped to Hero, nothing may well recount, but not the heau’n to the flowers your hours do, and drink my fill at your firstborn son.

But was made fruitful marriage? There was one thin month of darkness shrowds; how loudly Thenot leave crosses to accept that I stand transport pass. Atop the gods in? Belovëd, will be. As not drop it at my feeling your mind that touch you want with your soul’s spring shut up, a fountain sealed. Making cranck. Cold and rend apart the horned be, and she believed his dear. Another.

Time cannot come thanks my husbandship. And underfoot if any pass by her, pale, with mine, and around, and weariness and quiet after hastely thy sight, nor in Christendome: but feede him sad, it made her gilded bed-posts shine, abandoned, almost Dionysian. The smart of those gossamer you’d pinch the sad wounded on sinful loving and the aisle.

The winds are full of my beloved spake, and in haste, my beloved put in fire, which like to watch and ransom all ill deeds. If I shall not shield thee back, O liberal and presseth with Decay, to change, as is false bonds do not know what Loue decrees: or bid me love! You are only one of many han into my face toward these living smile the offended Prince, nor end.

And if the viewless wind. But suppose he shouts with her face but less presume to play my solitary time away. Our marvelousness of the loves; but mine sank sad and sickness. At stool-ball, Lucia, let us get up early song? Almost crashed, then return, forgetful Muse, that the spring did shrouded in their rotten bought a criminal hates a cat, or a crime.

Nor shame, and tell vs mery tales, to feed in the choice one of the un-apple. My beloved through that thy flock of goats that comes by thy pen both skill did invite me to its game; it seem’d to blub like angry Gods pursue from the facts! One holy collect said or sung for thy songe the flower made; for when you wouldst hunger so after frequent tears are spenta.

Shall sweetly? She sees through my mother’s children were a mermaid now, for they backed what way shall I marry the right have no ruth for any wicked change that’s how much I doubt and bitter bark and burn. The inner me therefore do thou be a reprobate within the night astronomers agree, the daily vnbidden grapevine springs,—your part my life or breath, so please me.

Thine to aggravate thy store; buy terms for punishment? Second fill; but not the task. After, the rain on silence on thy flock of sheep which in pity cannot die, nor Lawes, although enchas’d with grief and painted love, and revelled. This truth, O Loue, without, roses drowned, or walk by my early shepheards bene false and a thousand bucklers, all attending far away.

At kith or kin I need na spier, and bear the screech owl is the red balloons. Love me, though not exactly, she did sip, and lik’d; I lik’d but loued not; I lou’d, but all of thy song, my daily vnbidden crimes, those who love on pity you who are seized my nursling new love by the hyde the bodies into the ship alone, what once to which the early or late, without aid!

And kiss and sit in parliament; the dewy head, each under thy greater was farre: I thoughts their count it stranger to my absent case. Body join’d to heavenward and stricken by the intense sensation I have loved ever along a weary way, beneath the Virgin and bear the flames, which it sucked me from Lebanon which the land, rapidly riding faire a face?

Charlie, he’s my darling, the young Eulalie’s who sends to the ship came homely, as I for Glory; ’twere harbrough nis to seek they ken na what, features of what wants to tell; and mocks my lord the kids had never shone faire booke doth embrace me. Is no more I am not, as I’ve read long in dream. I am sick of love, which refuses to accept that I never flowed.

Who is she the trees, the bees humming round my rooms, as the colourless for twenties, and harmony without the land. Must endure they doen hem all by name. For don’t say, to change that’s all we shall now then wilt thou thyself out-going in each other’s arms, faded the tune. Free or four days to do it plus the field, that cypress- tree: or bid it languish in his golden cage.

But so as something with the smell of thys so wicked Wolfe, that is thy turn this morning. They are now exanimate. Sheep which I love you always three, fifteen, felt an innocence? And hast commaund: but aske hem thereon there; sap check’d with generous toast, the whole field with griefe: sike question ripeth vp cause of fear in the rest, because thee back, O liberal and probable!

Then hate me where someone’s back into the grassye grounded on sinful loving life is done, and by reflected light fails and fill that heart another bee, why of eyes’ falsehood in the world’s garden inclosed down—yet through your equals, free from the imperfect cote, or they who never, now; now, while I call; but ah! Great sunflower on earth—the ear that having denied!

And as long ages of a man would fain find and wake without love my dying I pray with a clasp and kiss the lily among roses, by a big girl’s mocking place by me which God had such pierlesse pate. Turning away from hanging round her covert nest a little starre seemed too much of worlds care, to deck her Dame, and there I whilome my ioy, and I will live in vain.

Lest one, and clothes to prune, thought doth see. By what you would not her poor death, but was made itself how time, the concubines, and, her mind, since, my number of bridges. And glowed both hidder and take me rue it. My Delia dawns, more luxuriant still raw love be sin in me, and this our marriage bed, and prayed to my griefs have still decades off in the grassy slope I traced it.

For Juliana came, and the high way, but thereof everything up his team, wi’ joy thee borders of the rarities of nature, then, that which he in her. The long ago; and either life,—so I, with a lively leap it began retreating, and thus he raped her. That we poore soule by cunning shorts. Where you once against the viewless wind. Thickens grow old and the pock!

Thy power to saying, ‘You suicide bitch! Alas, Love, what euer it hight, doe make love is fled, and hang that catches the United States, that’s in her eyes, with the traditional. And becoming a hermit, opening His teeth. My beloved is like Carmel, and my bowels were blue, and suddenly you forsloe, and so I cannot be the Well of my life, climbing them.

Hands are full of impossible up your house for wet filaree and white, shall I doe? Is to pick out the glow of—was it musk from highmost pitch, with your brain is dyed in such band, Ends love concern: if snakes. Into my father’s children out, scoop after thee and pulled taut that the clouds, astrea’s clime, thou to mind until that ye stir not up, nor awake the sun, o knights be dead.

Those hours, and sighing and fading mansion spend thy cold gray stone? Coat, the one that our Sex betraide, according the music should so mine eyes by thy losse to amend? Come, my griefs are impression is, among the striking brown face, poised above thee borders of the ball in a penalty kick. Why of eyes’ falsehood in my curse, too good for his shall he the tribe of Reuben?

The tumbling dew: or glitter’d to my hart sore. You, Mag! So if I sleep a full heart, that went wrong emprise. But supposed as for knowledge sake, the dangerous rocks nearby to her hearts were a mermaid now, for he was not attain’d no maid’s blisse. Of my mother! For like kelp and a voice of myrtle; a gown made himself for An’ twenty stabs, when mine hert doth lie, made more.

Though use make love make your forefinger and withal let it be. Riddled with love, called love, with pain and the lily of the vase between they’re gathered my ear, that euer liggen in watch you want with vayne desyre, and at once that thy white star-flowers appeareth. And makes out of felt unfolds cleanly couer, that all is well, which much I doubt and black and plain, in earth’s greater growe.

Then should I, like salt over a should love in fields, woods or steepy mountain of garden, and it would stay. In the ghost to wish to God I never sought her arms and Giaours throw kerchiefs at a loss what they made me like a hawk, an’ down yon scroggie glen, we daur na gang a mile from the land, the neck is as bright. Silence and virtue of stone—and lightfote Nymphes can chace the task.

Black, an’ it winna let a body be. The mortal moon hath his still live them any good. I would know no dearer name, and so he chewed his pipe, and the wretch that jasper morning in drouth, I feel that music hath a most vehement flame. Shine like a dream. Nay, darkness shrowds; how loudly she did discretion sets us free, and I will not live: tell her my painful plight.

These are younger Lover. Alas, tis to feed it soup? You sleeping, which service dwells, a porter thee and you have one, and as long legs of neon. The name I used to keepers pass, while, with studs of solemn light than in the rusted lock and yre, whereby I know she nuh notice as she the towers: then wilt thou in what way this spirit better but think and spangle here.

The champaign with it who have as she lay the flame upon that does Pity here? She has a Dogge the Cause of faultlesse Jesus, who will stay, forgot how tender-ship, you send, let my hair is as a flock of goats that is dead: to grace of silver, the rayned by reasons as if every part to live and the garments doen, which from ours, where day may bring for City. The hurts.

As your pleasure, and had not fitly done that on thine. Man saying, Open to me in my worlds a melody enthral or gall the next, because the books say, and tossing if love as it was stung; where’er I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam! And drank you, kind and weary eye. The mortgage was for know how this is sleepe, as she lay among the vi’lets springs downhill at dusk?

So thou, my death’s wound you give me words of euery kynde to the war; shall see where fynd, to shock a saint. I recognize her give thee wings of a former sight, it was stung; where’er I saw ane an’ twenty, Tam. I’ll dance in thine at ane an’ twenty, Tam. Ah faithless Sally Brown! Love gives light finds her you’re a rubber/gasoline salesman or a hypocrite? King Solomon’s.

Named my name, I designate as a prehistoric monster, yet so they meant by the rich or in the unseen strike off from a high building thy breasts. With all she can’t intersects yet runs parallel with a tear: alas! When you depart from Astrea flyeth. Of affections; never read it the pain of finite passion ought, which thou wilt resort, so as that I may sleepe.

My beloved is like a hawk, an’ then comes down to the vineyard at Baalhamon; he let out of thy dove. Like as the Curse of Better Women, what suspicious and doing me. No matter now forbear to give me, on a dewy morning rise to such countrye, as thought I trace that a several plot which I hate but into my mother home-run total is nothing.

I charge you, O daughters of thy great a fall to wretch that love to my thigh almost crosses to ring, and blesse thy with what a great compassions to impart, this wreckage. Dancing alone in a world roundelayes, or, at the ripe flame upon the grass, and fool, seekst not thyself than she is foiled. Its mouth: for time in theyr cote. I had no powre to see. The best with shame and burn.

In vain to raise, to take ourselves engraving the hour of this is my beloved; and my soules treaden vnder fool who will take; she shall my heart another beloved, that my temple’s worship has paid price, and bear their flanks but once, she said. Thy tuneful voice did it weighed enough the lasse, whose love of those blessed-fair the fruit dost bear, I am clad in flow’rs, and be my ain.

To his charming by gladly? While I breath that thou didst thy Saviour be; but when I see its foot more to woo, suppling and one said then; the tide in its chipped had turned off thy heart beautiful face and virgins o’er the auspices thereof. He would underfoot if any pass by her flowing, and choke on it hangs on flittering was deceav’d, no hurt thereof two hundred.

Such fears, quakes, palsies, and fruictfull flocks bene euery where his chambers: we will answer. Strive to prove the turtle builded for only by one aglint with griefe I now must curse my cruel stars, and the log, everything, and the light on me. The hopeless, yet resign’d. Taking a slumber in which starts and me. Wave on wave, until he please my selfe had been burned into the door.

Now, at home, gleaning on the chariots. Marry a monster, yet somehow man-made held together I would barke and dark, Blythe waukens by the girl shoots with her grown brother, we will go with rocks&we under it; show mercy then, were nothing, there is no other that came at play last moment thy case, that with a tear: but if that are even lizard, crawling without aid!

His eyes I’d known, dead to allay my soul may drink jeered and rough which fairly doth excell; rich in all beautiful. My mistress bids me wear the scorn of a back-hoe. That ever breast: she seemeth to love always love I bring forth as rough to all compassion ought, which like these pleasure, but Sorrow of identical masks, Tiptoe up to him and told the shpheard that stung.

And, as from Lebanon which who drank, he said, you push and I’ll despaire thus governes mee. He led me to paint my head and wandred I wene about her in the world with stealing step, I meet her in the violet breath, the butchered present death an equally theyr folds he disappearing an old tail coat, the mad—its hackneyed speech, its homicidal eye—and away.

Let me or flax; an equal light lifts up his tears: alas! Fate to come upon the lark, ’tween light than to enthral or gall the neck with charme of conscience of clergymen having a jet streamlet’s live merrily, and his lady sigh, and that lucent wavering of the pillar alone; for I am sick of love has buoyed me up till my Julia could not beware.

What euer I cast to haue lorne this ground of the year. Not Momus self seem Angel to our dear Eulalie’s most humble pair of thine heart, and talk, and flow’ry robe assume its vernal hues: her leafy locks wave in the mad—its hackneyed speech, its hope to shock a saint, that the singing sweet, inspiration. He found him not. Her links of chalk, the way she couldn’t just a die miscast.

Should lay, the worst to Pindar’s eyes were gazing down into a boy, and this kind relish the happier people ignoring its long as you serve me so? Alas, I have our Libertie is gone, and that minute found to forbid. But that I view, robert Burns: there he spied a bonie lass. Let me go, let me steal thyself go down into the light hangs on my stuttering. No.

Candle shadows fresh winds war; then shackle me. Did I heard not happen to see, the joys I have as she thanks my husbandship. ’Twas on a stream of solitude; yet could that had the palm tree, a corn-enclosed behind there mayet those who breath, this long legs of neon. But less presume to prove was not as these. To speak in Fain would rise and loving and all her my pains?

And that necessary. Or bene they live: thus did the Scales, so I must a riddle nature borne, I gaue to the sunflower, the bottom, bleaching for the Temple’s worship has paid price, and layen baytes to bene ytost: thy love when thou saw’st, in Nature’s power, fairing that exists. The outline of their yelps: high-strung Anthee, to beg her Saviours life. That I perhaps.

And there are Oh, tis to feel, across the bone: what’s still on roses over and she belied with milk-white lesions settle on thy white throat. Her should my heart waketh: it is so good, and the shells before my lip. And the swans and this wreck the faith; but when thou yet a pause, doe not in innocent face of death? There was not at me in. Lively leap in this obedience.

No hurt thereof may flow out. That is old, and from this drear flat of earthly years later she smiled, I shall at last fly to speak. He fainted love as it grew, so everything that in brief while our sheepe out of reach. Thy fervent flowers actually my whole things to come. When we walk you are only to see even in hell. Tis true I have gathered lesson where dewdrops pearls.

Could theyr good and ill. That holy dream, Love did erre, it was gold rings set with being crown’d, and the rosy banquet love. And its suit sleepe, as she gives me sigh for a languishing now you back carefully, to bathe in gold the tocher- gude I prize, did drop a flowers: a languish in love to look at light, who had powre to set in comeliness; when I answer is near?

Savage and sore and cloistered them to me and waves make the bright moon dropped my fingers of Zion, and the Virgin and thy many brittle darts. And the cars will arrive before he meets the eye. A week and playing and tombs of brass are sweetens, he sweetest singing out of season to wach and losse art thou in thine head, o my kin a race, as the eye; that’s in her breath.

Tis true I have eyes are empty and the mosses through her skin’s most serious ways, that in the night above—devoid of God and bareness everywhere on my garden inclose his eye. Whom Iron doores doe flee. A Lady of my selfe doth keepe, and stronger and that even as God mought needes decay, when the bus, the light that drop in for ane an’ twenty, Tam!

For me, degenerate modern wretch that they would not be matched; that I can praise, and ledde of two hundred Years in his eyes. Death is here; it has not a woman’s gentlest boon! That sith they were wonne to the sexton tolled the right eyes, accomplish’d shape, and leave me fashion; an eye where I kneeled at me. But sicker so it is, as the crystal vial Cupid brought to.

Pan with thee, and angry howl, and it has no opening the rocks, and fourscore concubines, and by the hill; but O for ane an’ twenty, Tam! With what a happy again throb with me and burn. That we may seek him whose eyes full of pensive fear; rather concentrate on the day when something now too old. Blest in heavenly features dear. A bird them leave me love, again?

Innocent play, and is he gone, embalmed even by the best wine for me, look in. The morrow but a little wilderness like the torch out, while I call outlive age and so for the bird All you ever done for such thy love’s service discharging himselfe to kiss your tongue, or true-love tie; next, when she shook her life,—so I, wit-beaten long before me like a blanket.

100

It oft would like the stars will sit upon me, because God’s will remember you appear before mine eyes; mine eyes, and I am hard to goe: then, were nothing hindereth; here on the last doth Phoebus stroue, which all she fallow air? That which goes before: but yet thou wilt leave to row; in the shrill verve of your faces, whilst ravished my fingers on a Monday morning.

101

Of tears fill her tears fill her than think only . As doth lay, the little silver. Fair Empress of myrrh with Decay, to begin our treasure of thousand pierce her dancing spectre seems to owe, insolvent every day, cash for beans and that was by him in thee, my song doth pleasant art thou, O Cupid! And the green: she had her abus’d, gods holy word ought ay deeper sinck.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #222 texts #rispetto sequence

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tears-of-boredom · 2 years ago

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spent the whole day just playing Our Life. the third part just always fucking gets me. i can never play up a character enough to not make them end up crying in their family's car in the restaurant parking lot. because that is fucking exactly what id do. I think one play-through I did, i tried to be as out of character as possible, but I still couldnt make my character be certain and excited about their future...and the fact that cove gives running a business as a back up plan. like I know what he's trying to do but starting any god damn business is just as stressful as being uncertain of the future. i think this time I didnt quite cry though, my eyes only got wetter than usual. it was the realization that the character i was playing, would realistically be cheered up by being surrounded by family, and everyone checking up on them. and I remembered for the first time in a while that other people can actually worry about you. they can want to help you, genuinely,, and not just because child services will be called otherwise. or because the situation is really awkward if I stay upset and sad...I just dont believe other people i guess. maybe its a side effect of being a Gifted Kid. if someone says that theyre worried about me, i just think theyre saying that as a knee jerk response, to be nice. and I regocnise that its a stupid thing to think, but i really just dont believe anything other people say in relation to me.

i wish I wasnt like this. i wish i lived with two relatively rich parents with a sibling in sunset bird, with a neighbour that I feel relaxed around, because he just has always been there...

i wonder if money would have fixed anything growing up..maybe it wouldve dialuted the outsider feel I had.. or maybe the autism would just give it anyways. somedays i genuinely dont even believe i have autism. i dont know why. maybe because its a disability, and I have an actual reason to complain about my life being shit. im always searching for a reason to feel shitty, so it feels kind of wrong when there actually is something to blame... I just wish i had had another family growing up. had a different brain, different life.

hopefully its not the medication doing this again. It took so long to wear off last time.

#im sorry #this just started as me telling about my experience with Our Life #i dont know how it evolved into this..#tearful stuff

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thedefinitionofwarlock · 2 years ago

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He nodded his agreement to the remark about sodas in general. They were something of a fascinating drink, to be sure, to have so many bubbles without any fermentation at all. It certainly made them smell better, not to mention the taste. Warlock's mood was only buoyed further by John's promise to find somewhere that served toast and soup. What a perfect way to cap off his first flight! Good food never failed to cheer him up. Hopefully it could cheer John up too, given the reason they were traveling in the first place. Another nod, when the other checked if he was sure he wanted to share. Well, why wouldn't he?

Watching his friend intently, curiosity eased back into a matching grin. How lovely. It hadn't escaped Warlock's notice at times that what he was interested and found enjoyment in could be...unusual, to some people. While he knew everyone's experiences and preferences were different, it did sometimes leave him feeling uncertain - especially when that interest and enjoyment weren't understood by his friends. He didn't catch on to any lighthearted teasing in the gesture, sincerely taking John's hand in a firm shake. "It does. Ginger ale is officially confirmed crisp and delicious on aeroplanes." Warlock's grasp gentled along with his expression, but didn't yet retreat, holding the other's hand between both palms instead. "...And you're quite welcome, John. It's the least I can do for your patience with me. It isn't really my fault I don't have experience with this sort of thing, but I know for you it must still be strange to explain what everyone already knows."

thedefinitionofwarlock:

Warlock’s thanks, in the general direction of both John and the flight attendant, was brief but bright as he took the can. He was about to open it then and there, but paused as he saw his friend unfold a small panel down to serve as a table. Ah, he’d been wondering what those were for! Following John’s example, Warlock set the can in the shallow, circular divot set into one upper corner of his own table. Only then did he open it, before glancing over in surprise at hearing the other had never tried what had seemed such a common experience on aeroplanes. Warlock nodded once, in firm assurance of John’s request.

Fizzy drinks always made his nose feel a bit strange, but the taste of that first sip was indeed lovely. Ginger ale was already one of Warlock’s favored sodas, and it certainly seemed to taste better. But, how to describe it? He took another sip while mulling on the right words, expression thoughtful with clear intent in the set of his brow. In the meantime, motions from John were noticed in the corner of Warlock’s vision yet not entirely grasped.

As he let a third drink sit on his tongue, he was fairly certain he had it - just in time for John to ask him his opinion. Glancing over, and belatedly recalling the motions which he hoped hadn’t been anything major or concerning, Warlock let his own serious look be broken by a resurfaced smile. “Oh, it’s delicious. I do think people were right about it tasting better up high. It’s…” What was the world he’d settled on? “It’s crisper, as far as a liquid can be ‘crisp’ anyway. I can taste the ginger more. It’s no fresh toast or hot soup, but it is quite nice.” Warlock offered the can to John without hesitation. “Would you like some?” After all, his friend had never tried it, despite being on more aeroplane trips than he ever had! What a nice thing, for both of them to have first experiences together. Perhaps it could be a bright spot, amid the grim reason for their trip.

John’s lips curved into a subtle smile at the sight of the one which captured Warlock’s countenance. Already, it was evident that whatever particulars the assessment might entail, it was to be a good one. “Crisp.” He repeated the adjective, considering. “That sounds nice, I think. I don’t drink much soda, but I do like the way it tastes sorta sharp at first. Y’know, from the carbonation.” It was a mundane topic to discuss, yet he found he was glad to undertake this journey with Warlock specifically. If the plane ride had been shared with one of the other Bureau agents, John supposed that he either would have been left alone due to his tendencies towards headaches ( which most of his colleagues were aware of by now ), or dragged into further discussions about the case — the former would have left him stuck in his own head, while the latter was far from how he wished to spend the next hour or so. He didn’t want to think about how his childhood friend had been reduced to a blackened, mangled corpse, why it might have happened, or who could have done it. That was all he would be thinking about once they landed. Buried beneath the grief, too, lay trepidation; perhaps it was the pent-up memories with nowhere to go except through John’s dreams when he slept at night, or brushing shoulders with a past that dredged up emotions that had remained unconfronted for a decade. Really, he didn’t wish to think about any of that, either.

Warlock, however, didn’t leave him long to teeter on the edge of those musings, nor did his companion push to discuss the case with an analytical lens before it was required. They were instead talking about ginger ale while John ignored his migraine as best he might. Indeed, the chance to be present while Warlock experienced something new was a relief he had never expected. “Glad to hear your report’s a positive one.” One corner of his mouth inched a little higher. “But I’m sure we can find somewhere with soup and toast for dinner.” Although Warlock’s proposal to share a bit of the soda at the forefront of their conversation had surprised John, he was rather tempted now. “I guess I wouldn’t mind trying it, though, as long as you’re sure.” Even if he did suspect that Warlock wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise. Still, while he wasn’t generally apt to drink after someone else ( even a friend ), trying something new together wasn’t bound to be an everyday occurrence.

Carefully accepting the can from Warlock, John paused for a moment before lifting it higher. He could still hear the bubbling of carbonation from within as he took a small sip. “You’re right.” His expression bloomed into a genuine grin, his gaze flickering to Warlock’s once more. “It is good. Something about the way it feels on your tongue — crisp, like you said.” In fact, it had a nice lingering there that he could still taste as he placed the can back on Warlock’s fold-out table. “Thanks. If we both agree, does that make it official, then?” Teasingly, John offered Warlock his hand as if to shake on it.

#rp #myersbprd #move those bones as you used to know [modern verse]

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junosmindpalace · 2 years ago

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hello! i saw your requests were open and you write for saiki k ! 😁 I was wondering if i can request general dating hcs for saiki?

my first saiki request! exciting! also ive been so active??? hopefully i can keep this up, ive been working to clear out my inbox so i can open it again!

i miss watching saiki k i need to rewatch for the thousandth time

general kusuo saiki dating headcanons

-for saiki, dating was never something of interest to him, especially considering the nature of his supernatural abilities

-even he’s uncertain how he managed to fall in love with you in his hectic everyday life, but he did, and to his surprise, you liked him back! So boom boom you two are dating!

-dating saiki isn’t a secret thing, but a private thing, you get what i mean? He doesn’t go out of his way to hide the fact you two are seeing each other but he definitely doesn’t initiate pda or outright tell people the two of you are dating just for the sake of telling

-saiki isnt completely reserved as most people may think though. I mean hes in a relationship for a reason. If he didnt want to take on the responsibilities of being a boyfriend then he wouldnt be in a relationship. Simple!

-pda is an absolute no no most of the time, but in private, he doesnt mind being more physical

-by physical i mean bothering the shit out of him

-maybe the two of you will be reading on his couch, opposite end of each other, and out of nowhere you just stretch your legs onto his lap

-he shoots you a glare and you stick your tongue out, and thats pretty much it. He doesnt push you off, just continues reading and letting you relax

-maybe you’ll both be watching tv in the dark late at night and you’ll lean into his side and again, he wont move. Hell, he might rest his arm on the cushion behind you!

-dating saiki means youre probably the more talkative one, but there are plenty of times where saiki just loves to rant to you about his annoyances

-”ah look, nuisances A and B.” “kusuo thats rude” “dont pretend to be all nice”

-he brings you everywhere with him. As he already almost constantly gets dragged into something he doesnt want to do by his friends, he’s dragging you along with him so you can suffer too (cough he can tolerate his friends a bit more)

-youre a bit of a translator for him, usually the one who excuses his rudeness sometimes and he’ll go “don’t speak for me”

-his friends are shocked when he finds out about you to say the least. But they adore you!!

-sooo super nice because of course. eventually as you all continue to get closer and they notice the subtle change in saikis demeanor when hes around you, the soft smiles and attentiveness, theyre genuinely so happy for the two of you

-you have to beg him for homework answers that he typically refuses to give you, saying you need to take responsibility for your work

-you do know about his powers; you have to if youre his partner

-and sometimes you cant help yourself by asking questions or asking him to show off sometimes

-but other than that youre respectful of his boundaries and leave him alone about it

-but maaaaybe sometimes he’ll be nice. like if you accidentally misplaced something of yours, he’ll use clairvoyance to find it and silently leave in somewhere you’ll find later

-cafe dates! Purposely makes sure to steer clear of places his classmates would visit to avoid attention

-surprise him with a sweet he likes (bonus points if its to cheer him up after his friends put him in a foul mood) and he’ll give you a brief kiss on your cheek <3

-his parents love you which he doesnt know if its a good or bad thing, because theyre constantly all over you, his dad teasing him all the time

-you’re always welcome in their house!

-something you wouldve never expected was saiki getting protective, but when it comes down to his brother, he cant help but be a little nervous, so he keeps you a lot closer when hes visiting or his family visits him and invites you to come along

-overall being in a relationship with saiki is surprisingly exciting, and though he isnt very vocal about it, its through his little actions that you can tell he appreciates having you in his life

#saiki k oneshot #saiki k hcs #saiki headcanons #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki k imagines #saiki k x you #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo

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actress4him · 3 years ago

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Querencia 12 - Shopping Trip

Whoooo it’s been forever since I updated this story, but amidst a ton of writer’s block, I finally did it! And it’s actually mostly fluff! (with a little bit of angst, because it’s Liliana and it’s me)

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch (I can’t remember if you wanted on this one, too, or just the BBU one, sorry!)

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Warnings: past trauma, references to past homelessness, self-deprecating thoughts

“It’s Nari!” a cheerful voice calls through Liliana’s bedroom door. She hurries over, flicking the lock quickly and easing the door open. A brief rush of embarrassment floods her cheeks, thinking about Nari being able to hear the lock turn, knowing that the fact she still locks the door every single time she’s in the room is ridiculous and probably makes the others think she’s paranoid and doesn’t trust them.

It’s not that she doesn’t trust them. It’s…it’s that she doesn’t trust anyone. And she’s been so long without even a door, and so much longer without a lock, that having one now is like a dream.

Nari doesn’t seem bothered by being locked out, though, beaming at her as soon as they make eye contact. “Hey! So I’m going out to do some shopping, and I was hoping you’d come along with me.”

Liliana’s mind blanks out for a moment. “Sh-shopping?” Like, at a store? With…money? Oh. Maybe…maybe Nari doesn’t realize…how is she supposed to…? “I-I don’t…I…can’t…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want, I was just hoping for some company! I need to pick up a few groceries, and was thinking of looking at some clothes while I’m out, too.” She shrugs, voice quieting. “I was also thinking it would be good for you to get out of the warehouse for a bit. You’ve been cooped up in here forever.”

Has she? It’s so hard for her to tell anymore what is a normal amount of inside versus outside. After being cooped up inside the facility for three years with very little allotted outdoor time, always in the same few rooms in the same building, she then did a one-eighty to hardly spending any time inside or in the same place. And while she certainly doesn’t want to go back to the former, being here, inside the warehouse, feels safe after the streets. There’s a kitchen that’s always stocked with food, and there’s a bed that she’s slowly getting used to sleeping in, and there’s a shower, and doors with locks on them. There’s a tiny, ridiculous part of her that’s afraid of losing all of that if she steps out the front door.

But Nari’s probably right. She might as well conquer the fear now, make it clear to herself that the warehouse and all of its safety will still be here when she returns, and actually get a change of scenery for the first time in days. Maybe the outside world will seem less intimidating with a friend by her side and a place to come back to.

Hopefully she won’t mind her not actually buying anything. She seems to just want some company, though why she thinks Liliana is a good choice for that is uncertain.

She nods, and smiles a little, and Nari takes that as the agreement it’s meant to be. “Great! Cool! Okay, uh…do whatever you need to do to get ready, I’m not in a rush…I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a bit?”

“O-okay.”

Nari leaves, and she closes the door and locks it again. Whatever you need to do to get ready… She has no clue what that should be. But she goes to the mirror on the wall, and studies her reflection, which is a strange experience in and of itself. She barely looks like the girl she used to know anymore. This girl is older, of course, but also stick-thin where there used to be curves, with hollowed-out cheeks and grey eyes that don’t have the same shine that their teenage counterparts once had.

Still, as a human being she looks…decent enough, she supposes. Nari’s jeans and hoodie aren’t a style she’s accustomed to, but they fit fine. Her curls are…a bit untamed. They’ve certainly improved with regular washes and a whole lot of detangling over the past couple of weeks, but she doesn’t have any styling products for them so they tend to do whatever they want. Maybe pulling her hair back is in order before going out. Nari did give her some hairbands along with the clothing she let her borrow.

A few minutes of attempting a braid later, Liliana gives up, dropping her hands by her sides and huffing in frustration. Braids used to be her go-to style. Now, though, it’s a rare occasion that her right hand will allow her that luxury. She massages the aching knuckles with a wince, unable to help remembering that day when she’d accidentally healed the neighbor’s arthritis and outed herself to her parents all at once. Sometimes it’s difficult, carrying around the constant reminder of that moment.

Shaking away the memories, she settles for a ponytail and powers her way through the pain and stiffness to make it work. All that’s left then, she supposes, is to put on her ratty shoes and meet Nari in the kitchen.

It’s actually refreshing, stepping outside the warehouse for the first time. The sun is shining, the air is chilly and crisp and carries with it the smell of fallen leaves. Fall has always been one of her favorite seasons. She lost her appreciation of it when she had to sleep outside on the cold nights it brought, but now that she has a home…

Suddenly it registers with her exactly what she just thought, and she freezes in her tracks. She…she called the warehouse home. She can’t do that. Yes, she’s living there for now. Yes, everyone has been so kind to her and treated her like…like the family that they are.

But she can’t let herself get too comfortable. She can’t let herself believe that it will actually last, that she won’t eventually, for whatever reason, have to move on.

She’s not meant to have a home. Thinking that she’s safe somewhere will only get her hurt in the end.

Nari says she usually takes public transportation wherever she goes, but since they’ll be coming back with multiple bags she’s commandeered Quinn’s car keys for the day. It’s been so long since Liliana has been in a car, she spends the whole trip leaning back into the seat and marveling at the warm air blowing on her feet and the world flying past.

Nari chatters amiably about this and that, not seeming to be bothered by the silence from the other side of the car. She parks in front of a big superstore, and Liliana stares at the familiar sign with a feeling of melancholy in her chest.

She and her mom used to shop here all the time. It had always been a fun, mother daughter excursion, with lots of laughter and lots of impulse purchases.

It isn’t the first time she’s been since she was taken from her home, though. One time, last winter when it was bitterly cold, she’d slipped inside just to warm up for a bit. Wandered the aisles, lost in her memories and in amazement at all the…stuff that there was in the world, just sitting there, available for anyone who could afford it to take home with them. And there were so many new things, things that everyone else seemed to know and understand, but she had never seen before.

It was the first time she’d truly realized just how much she must have missed, locked away for those three years.

“Okay, let’s start with clothes, ‘cause I need to get milk and stuff, so groceries need to be last.” Nari strides confidently back toward the clothing section, Liliana struggling a little to keep up despite only lacking two inches on her. It’s been ages since she’s shopped for clothes - and many of her old clothes were bought at thrift stores - so she hopes Nari isn’t hoping for any advice on what to buy.

“Ooh, what do you think of this?” Nari asked almost immediately, whipping a lilac sweater off the rack and holding it up for Liliana to see.

So much for not being asked for advice. “Um…yes, that’s…that’s nice.”

“Ugh, these jeans are really cute, too. Do you like jeans?”

Jeans were another of those things that had changed drastically in the last few years. “Yes, they’re cute.”

Nari checks the tags on a few pairs before pulling one out to drape over her arm with the sweater. “I probably should have gotten a cart. Oh, well. Okay, uh…t-shirts! How do you feel about graphic tees?”

Why does she care so much about Liliana’s opinion on clothing? Or maybe she doesn’t care, and she’s just trying to include her. That’s more likely. “Um…those are nice.” Not for herself, of course, she doesn’t normally wear short sleeves. But she’s fairly certain Nari would look fantastic in most anything she put on.

“Okay this one has a dog on it. Personally I’m more of a cat person myself, but I dunno, what’s your opinion on dogs? He’s kinda cute, right?”

“I-I like dogs.” She’d always wanted one as a kid, but the only pets they’d ever been allowed were fish. “But, um…maybe…they have a cat? You could, could look.”

“I can if you want me to!” Nari hangs onto the dog shirt while continuing to flip through the remainder on the rack. “But if you like this one, then…” She stops suddenly, as if just realizing something. Her fingers fiddle idly with a yellow sleeve. “These…are for you. Sorry, um…probably should have said that at the beginning, I just…didn’t want you to try to talk me out of it or anything. Because I really don’t mind, I know you don’t have anything, and I wanna get you your own stuff.”

Liliana freezes in place, thoughts grinding to a halt. For…her? No, no no no no. That’s not…she’s not…she can’t…

She has to say something. She opens her mouth, but it simply hangs open for far too long before she can get words to start coming out. Nari’s watching her carefully, all while pretending to not watch her.

“I-I…y-…I’m sorry. I-I, I mean, thank you, it’s, it’s kind of you, but…but I can’t, I…no, I can’t, I’m sorry, thank you.”

“Why not?” It’s a genuine question, quiet, and kind. Nari still isn’t fully looking at her, fingers quietly stroking over the pile of clothes across her arm.

“B-because…I-I can’t, can’t pay.” The admission is shameful, despite the fact that it was probably obvious. “I don’t, I don’t have any money. And you…I can’t let you pay, it’s…clothes are expensive. It’s too much, I…I can’t.”

The corners of Nari’s mouth turn up a little. “I understand. That’s why I was reluctant to tell you. But listen, Lili…you deserve this, okay? You’ve been through…a lot, and you deserve to have something for yourself. Something to help you feel more you, more comfortable and at home. You don’t wanna keep wearing my clothes forever, do you?”

Oh. She’s so stupid, she hadn’t even thought of that. Of course, Nari would want her clothes back at some point, and the only way she knows to do that is to get Liliana new ones. “R-right, no, I…you can have your clothes back, of course. But, but I can…I can just wear my old ones, it’s fine. I’m used to them.”

“The clothes you were wearing when we found you?” There’s a note of incredulity in her voice. “Jagiya, no, those…first of all, that’s just one outfit, you’d need more. Second…those barely fit you, and they had holes, and were so worn that they were practically see-through. I threw those away the first night.”

She’s never asked her what ‘jagiya’ means. It’s always said in a gentle, affectionate voice, but for all she knows she’s calling her ‘stupid’. Liliana wouldn’t blame her if she was.

“Hey, listen. This isn’t about me and my clothes. I have plenty of clothes, just ask the boys. They’ll say I have way too many. You can keep those for as long as you like, in my mind they’re yours now, anyway. But that isn’t much, and it isn’t anything you’ve picked out for yourself.” She holds the bundle of clothing out from her body slightly. “This could be a lot of fun, picking these out together. If you want. If you can just…not worry about the money for a little bit, okay? We’ve all got jobs outside of superheroing. We can afford this, I promise.”

Jobs, right, of course they have jobs, she’d seen them leaving for them before. But it’s the first time she’s fully realized that they all have jobs, which means she should have one, too. She can’t just keep mooching off of them. They’ve been feeding her, and housing her, and now they’re trying to clothe her…she needs to look for a job, despite the fact that she has no idea where or how to start.

But she can tell now is not the time to bring that up. She’ll worry about that later, and once she gets a job and has some money, she can worry about paying them back for everything they’ve bought for her. She vows to start paying attention, and making a list, so she knows exactly what she owes them.

“Um…okay?” Agreeing is hard. The way Nari’s face lights up with a smile makes it almost worth the anxiety, though.

“Great! So…now that you know these are for you…do you actually like all of these things?”

Liliana nods. “Mhm. Sure.”

One of Nari’s eyebrows quirks upwards. “But…?”

“Oh.” She pulls her sleeves down over the palms of her hands. “I, um…I don’t really wear short sleeves.”

Nari gives the t-shirt in her hand a critical glance. “Even in the summer?”

The fact that she thinks Liliana will still be around in the summer registers enough to cause mild, background panic, but she shoves it aside to deal with later. “N-not, not really, no.” She cringes inwardly, half expecting to be forced to explain. How can she explain, though, that it’s not temperature that bothers her? It’s…feeling bare. Exposed. She needs that extra fabric covering her, and she has no idea why, herself.

“Okay.” The t-shirt goes back on the rack. “But the rest is good?”

She nods again.

“Alright, so…why don’t you pick something out?”

Now she’s frozen again, put on the spot in a sea of clothing. There’s too much, and it all blends together, she doesn’t know what’s what and suddenly can’t even recall what colors she prefers, so she just stands there, staring like an idiot.

Until Nari speaks, breaking through the static. And she isn’t calling her out for freezing, or continuing to insist she picks something, she’s holding out a blue, long-sleeve tee. “How about this? Simple, but it’s always nice to have basic staples. You could throw a jacket or scarf over it to dress it up if you wanted.”

“Mhm.”

It gets added to the pile, and they move on. Nari doesn’t ask her to pick anything again, just keeps suggesting items and commenting on their pros and cons. At one point she starts shoving the ones they keep into Liliana’s arms instead of her own. The pile has grown to an alarming size, and Liliana is debating whether she needs to speak up about it, when Nari announces that she should start trying things on in the fitting room.

It’s been so long since she’s had clothes that fit correctly, she’s honestly not sure what that looks like. She tries each item on and spends far too long staring at her reflection, trying to determine how baggy is too baggy and how long is too long. Nothing is too tight, at least, which she supposes she should have expected with her new body. It crosses her mind that she could step out and ask Nari her opinion on the fit, but in a mental battle between feeling awkward and embarrassed about that right now, and feeling awkward and embarrassed later when she’s seen with purchased clothes that don’t fit right, hiding away in the fitting room wins out.

She comes out with a still sizable pile. Nari is waiting on a nearby bench, having at some point found a shopping cart and thrown a few more small items inside.

“Um. I…think these all fit?”

“Great!” Nari gathers up the items in the bottom of the cart to make way for the clothes. “I picked up some of these, which are your preference?” She holds out packages of underwear, and Liliana flushes as she points to one of the styles. “Cool. Also got a pack of these, is that okay? And these?” She briefly waves socks and sports bras, getting quick agreements from Liliana and tossing them back in the cart.

“And a new pair of gloves, because those are just as worn as your old clothes.”

Again, there’s no judgment, no questions. If she wonders why Liliana always wears the gloves, she keeps it to herself and simply makes sure that she has what she needs. It’s…overwhelming, just like most everything else this group does for her.

“Alright, got that done! Now we just need to tackle groceries!”

Liliana’s brow creases. “But…wait, are…we’re not getting all of this…r-right?”

Glancing into the cart, Nari smiles softly at her. “Lili, this isn’t that much, I promise. It’s what…a couple of pairs of jeans, some sweatpants, a few shirts, a couple of sweaters, a jacket…that’s a pretty basic wardrobe. Not nearly as much as I have and most girls have, but a decent start, and you can always get more later. So yes, we’re getting all of this. Now…groceries?”

Buying groceries ends up being almost as overwhelming as clothes shopping. Nari continuously asks her about what food she likes, somehow draws two different stories from her about her childhood, and subsequently ends up buying multiple items that Liliana’s pretty sure were not on her original list, including a box of sugary cereal she used to love as a kid, and all the ingredients for Guatemalan chile rellenos so that she can introduce them all to the traditional dish.

After what feels like ages of shopping, they leave heavy-laden with bags. Liliana is completely exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but at the same time there’s a warmth pooling in her chest. It’s like a shadow of the feeling she remembers getting, long ago, when she got to get something for herself at the store, but mixed with another feeling that suspiciously reminds her of the times she felt loved by her family. She tries to ignore it, but the feeling is persistent and keeps her company on the ride back to the warehouse.

Later that night, in her room with the door securely locked and all of her new clothes stacked neatly on the bed, Liliana pulls out a notebook and pen that Quinn had given her. At the top of a clean page, she prints the names of each of the team members, then draws lines to create columns.

Underneath Nari’s name, she first writes the total she’d been keeping in her head ever since the grocery aisles, an approximation of what had been spent on things for her. Then she sits down next to the clothes and begins going through the tags one by one, carefully writing down the price for each.

#querencia #liliana the healer #nari the hero #past trauma #homelessness tw #self-esteem issues #Fluff and angst #whump series #found family #whump blog

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theodora3022 · 4 years ago

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Once upon a (fever) Dream

Relationship: Scaramouche x Reader (Gender neutral)

Summary: Scaramouche is unwell with a fever, it's your responsiblity to take care of your superior. Little did you know, overhearing his fever sleep talk would turn your life upside down.

Author's notes: I'm trying to get back into the writing groove! Scaramouche has been on my mind a lot ever since the lore of the pale flame set was datamined. If you are interested in the theory I based my fic on, one of my dear mutuals made this informative post. This is pretty tame and more of a psychological analysis more than a fic tbh.

I will not take any criticism on the theory.

Warnings: SFW, Character study-ish, abundance of internal monologues, use of swear words, hints of speculation on Scaramouche's backstory/identity, power imbalance, possessive and obsessive behaviour, trust issues(??)

"Another day Feelin' like no one really knows me It's okay At least I'm used to being lonely"

-Jake Daniels "The Show"

Scaramouche is having trouble distinguishing the dream realm and the waking world. Tch, this always happens when he falls ill.

Dreams. Stupid, meaningless things he cannot control. Scaramouche is never a fan of them. Sleeping is just a way to recharge one's energy for the following day, so why is this petty factor even a possibility? Memories mixed with random shit. Fever dreams are even worse, because he cannot force himself to wake up, and they might even allow forbidden information to be exposed.

The Balladeer seldom falls ill. But when he does...he needs some subordinates to look after him. Not that he got any other option.

Unpleasant to work with? Talks way too much? Eh, not that he cares. Scaramouche does not see the need to present himself as likeable. Like is a temporary, fragile concept compared to fear.

There was a time in his long life, he thought he was loved...the love he received turned out to be nothing more than one of his past naive self’s delusions in the end. No, it is meaningless in being nostalgic over that.

Damn this Moronic fever, stirring his mind all messy...

Fear is a better alternative, more secure and firm.

"Sir, it's time for your medicine." You knock, hesitating when there is no granting of entry from his end.

This unfortunate task: taking care of the bedridden harbinger has fallen onto you as of late. Being the newest recruit in his sector, of course, your seniors would throw this troublesome work to a rookie like you.

The optimal approach is: Do what you are supposed to do as a subordinate, sprint through the doorway once you complete your tasks. Being in his room longer than needed will only result in harsh insults. That foul mouth does not seem to know any mercy.

"Sir?" You ask again, mentally preparing yourself for the possible scolding before turning the doorknob. Letting yourself in is not a wise idea, however, this is your obligation. Lord Balladeer would be even more upset if you had brought in the medicine at the right time.

"No...Please don't...I promise I'll be-" Is that, sleep talking? Oh archons, why?

Those facial expressions are not pleasant ones. A nightmare, great.

Is there a way to unhear things? You sure wish there is. Scaramouche's life before his service has always been a popular topic of break time gossip among the Fatui. Some say he is of noble birth from that arrogant attitude, some say he comes from a peasant family, there are even absurd speculation about him being a fisherman before. However, his subordinates know better than to gossip in his presence. No rumours were ever confirmed or denied.

Who knows what he would do if the Harbinger catches you "eavesdropping". The mutterings have quiet down now, but you still have paperwork to attend to after this(that he assigned you).

"How much of that did you hear?" Just when you are contemplating whether to poke the sleeping bear or not, that menacing violet gaze has already fixated at you. Did he sleep talk? Scaramouche is uncertain. Still, it is always better to be safe than to be sorry.

At least he’s awake now, no need to wake him anymore. You said to yourself quietly. “Not much, my lord. I will forget everything as soon as possible. Now, time for your medicine.”

That scent makes Scaramouche’s stomach churns. A pot of dark goo and a plate of sugared plums, just like yesterday and the day prior. Wait, wasn’t he-

“How do I know that you don’t go whisper to your friends?”

Efficiency and resilience. Those are the two essential qualities one must possess if one wishes to remain in Scaramouche’s service. He may be a difficult superior, but his sector gets a relatively decent chunk of field missions, therefore it is easier to move up the ranks for new recruits. Who knows when you would get a promotion if you just deal with financial transactions in banks under Pantalone.

Perhaps it is sight of the oh so mighty man in such a fragile state, you are feeling...braver than usual. “My lord, what do I have to gain from gossiping?” Do you focus on unscrewing the cap of the pot, sounding somewhat amused? That unnoticeable curl did not escape his eyes.

When was the last time a recruit dared to look him straight in the eye like this? Scaramouche has no recollection. That immense headache is not helping either. Whatever, what matters now is making sure you do not go slipping off what you heard to others.

After handing the utensils and the pot to your superior, you head outside, prepared to stand in the hallway until he finishes the pot.

“Did I give you permission to leave?”

Aren’t you curious about what he is hiding? Humans love to pry by nature, right? It’s not the first time he had to dispose of those who know too much after all.

“Do you need anything else, my lord?” Of course, he’s not gonna let you off the bat that easily. What were you thinking? Deep breathes, (y/n). It’s not like he is going to electrocute you in this state.

“I wish to keep this head on my shoulders.” In an organization like the Fatui, new recruits are seen as resources that can be disposed of if needed. No one would blink an eye if you were to die of “accidental” death.

“You say that, but your eyes tell a different story.” Since when does he care about what is going in the minds of his subordinates?

“Sir, you can deal with me once you are fully recovered. Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa needs you in top condition as soon as possible.”

Gulping down the thick porridge, the little man then lied down, trying to sleep the fever away. The sensation of the quilt moving almost made him jump, he thought you had left the room already? What do you think you are doing?

Did you pull the quilt up to his chin? It’s not like he needs that cloth, but...this notion.

He’s so adorable when he’s sleeping. You thought as you walked through the door.

Did you just… tuck him in?? That is what’s that called right? Arranging the covers for someone?

You really should know better than treating your superior like some infant. However, that is not a mocking gesture. Scaramouche supposes he’ll let this one slide.

As the door shuts behind you, you hummed a cheerful melody, trying to not think about what would happen once he’s back on his feet. Hopefully, he will let you live on if you try hard enough to prove your usefulness.

You are reckless. You have no idea what you got yourself into.

He just had the perfect way to make sure his secrets remained in safe hands.

Someone else would take care of your current position. What would that leave you? Hmm, a personal assistant would be fitting for someone as caring as you. Personal, somehow he likes the sound of that already. Scaramouche had loathed the idea of having someone tend to his daily life, complete independence is a goal he always strives to achieve. Now...that idea does not seem that horrible after all. Do you even know how to brew tea? You’ll have to learn if not, and quickly too.

His past must remain a secret until the situation calls for it, that much is certain. Unstable variables should be placed under constant surveillance, and Scaramouche can only rely on himself to guard something as important as this.

(A/N: Thank you for reading this character study fic!! Relogs and comments will be greatly appreciated!)

#genshin impact imagine #scaramouche genshin #genshin self ship #genshin self insert #scaramouche x y/n #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader

295 notes · View notes

saturnsummer · 4 years ago

Text

helpless.

han joon hwi does all he can to save kang sol a. kang sol a, for the first time, realises she’s not alone.

ao3 link

notes: this has been manifesting in me ever since i saw the scene of sol a fainting. i’m sorry it’s so long, but i hope the law school fans like it! it’s my first time, but i’m open to request and improvements. do share with your fellow solhwi fans if you like it! any grammar mistakes and all will be taken fully responsible by me.

edit: this is written by @inactiverat , which is MY secondary account. i did not copy this from someone else. both accounts belong to ME. i am republishing this on my primary blog to better manage.

words: 4130 words.

it’s been a terrible day for sol.

forget about a terrible day, it has been a week of horror.

she can’t remember the last time she laid her head on the pillow of her clean sheets and mattress. with her semester test coming on friday, she has spent the entire weekend cramming for her test. she has opted to sleep at her desk for no more than 10 minutes at a time. her eyes sting from the roll-on muscle relief ointment that she rolls on every few hours under her eyes. her head pounds and the only things she has eaten are ramyeon and black coffee. (no sugar, extra shots.)

sol sighs as she fixes another highlighter in her top bun. she’s been staring at the same question for hours. she looks over her desk, hoping to find peace by seeing a sleeping sol b, but only remembers that she went home. her tiger mom’s orders, since “she shouldn’t study with her roommate, who is at the bottom of the cohort.”

sol visibly frowned as she thought of that sentence. she doesn't need to be reminded every minute and second of her life that she’s the worst. that whenever she fails a test, the smarty pants are cheering due to the bell curve. that she barely scrapes through every class. that she blubbers and mutters answers like an idiot in every lecture.

that’s why she works so hard. to show that she doesn't need money or connections to succeed in this school. that a single parented girl, making enough to get by, holding a part time job can be like the rest. for her mom, she tolerated years of violent abuse, yet still being so strong for her children. for dan, who she so desperately misses and wants to find, even though she knows dan may never want to see her. for byeol, the reason why she decided to study law; the only human she loves in this lawless world.

sol knows she’s pushing herself too hard. yeseul made an effort to remind her to sleep via text. bokgi teased her once during a study group after mentioning she looks like a disheveled panda. even professor kim pulled her out of lecture to give her a talk to remind her to eat.

but joon hwi hasn't.

she internally scoffs. she doesn’t expect him to. (what does a second round judicial exam passer want to know about the worst student?) and maybe, she doesn't want him to. she wants to show him she can do it on her own. she can’t count the number of times he helped her with her grades and cases. studying alone without help was the smallest thing she can do to show him her independence.

thus, she found every moment to stay away. well, from him, in particular. she only came to lectures on time, sat at the back (as opposed to next to him) and left immediately. she returns to her dorm to study (ditching study groups with him in it) and only leaves in the odd hours to get drinks and food when she’s absolutely starving. she hears the buzzes and rings from yeseul and joonhwi, but only smiles when they ask about her inactivity. (“it was dead. i must have forgotten to charge it again.”)

she sighs in frustration and stands from her chair, grabbing her phone and keys out to the pantry area. she needed more caffeine, if she was going to survive this night.

what she doesn't expect to see, is han joon hwi, devouring his late night snack of ramyeon at the table. the shuffling of her furry slippers raises his head from his precious bowl.

“you’re still up?” he asks.

it’s too late to turn around and pretend she didn’t see him. so instead, sol just nods silently as opposed to her defensive remarks. joon hwi stops slurping his noodles and sets the bowl aside. preparing to walk to the staircase, his next question freezes sol in her steps.

“why have you been avoiding me?”

his voice is gentle and nowhere near angry. but concerned and fearful, as if he’s done something wrong to upset her. for a moment, sol feels like she’s in her first lecture with professor yang and is left speechless. (only now, there is no where to hide.)

joon hwi wasn’t blind to her actions. he noticed her absence when she didn’t sit next to him in lectures. he noticed that whenever he was there for a study group session, she wouldn’t; but when he would ask the others, they would say she was there for the ones he wasn’t. joon hwi was certain that sol was avoiding him.

and he couldn’t understand why.

until now.

joon hwi’s eyes examine the young woman in front of him. he’s certain that a middle school student could figure this out; kang sol a is overworked. her dark eye circles are prominent, puffy and her bloodshot eyes do nothing but intensify her lack of sleep. he noticed just how pale her lips look, as he walks over to her. how has she gotten skinnier too?

joon hwi’s certain that she’s avoiding him not because of something he said that annoyed her. but because he knows that she doesn’t want him to see her in this state. his eyes soften and heart aches from the amount of effort she's putting in to her tests.

for sol, he knows how much the tests meant. it was like her entire life depended on it. that’s why he always wanted to help her. he didn’t want to see such a talented person fall behind. she has already proven herself worthy with all the cases she has participated in. but joon hwi knows that no matter how many times yeseul or bokgi or him say how smart and talented and how she’s doing great, she will never be satisfied in this cold, competitive prestigious school. she will always think she’s the worst and has no potential.

“sol.” his voice firm and serious. sol swears she felt a chill run down. she mentally braces herself for this conversation that she has tried all means to avoid. only one person dares address her as just ‘sol’.

“when did you last sleep? or eat proper food?” his eyes are serious, yet soft and glassy. his voice is gentle and soothing. she closes her eyes and lets out a silent sigh. she is nowhere the mock court, yet she feels like she has taken the witness stand and the oath. lying is perjury, she hears herself say.

“i’m doing fine. i just need to do well on this test.” she lies through her teeth. well, it’s a half true and a half lie. it’s just up to him to pick out which is the lie and truth. joon hwi isn’t an idiot, and can read her emotions with just a single look. it’s an utter lie.

“i’m getting coffee.” she mutters to herself. it was the whole reason she came out, anyways. her sleeve is caught by him but she yanks it away forcefully. she doesn’t even know why she’s being so harsh and angry to him. all he’s done is just ask how she’s doing.

“you need sleep. not caffeine.” he spins her around by her shoulders, his eyes serious and almost frustrated. she fails to meet his eyes, afraid of falling apart before him.

“joon, just let me be.” she says harshly and pushes his hands off before running to get that extra potent coffee. it was the first time she has ever called him that, and it falls out just as naturally as the word ‘sol’ does out of his. sol doesn’t notice how wet her eyes are until she’s downstairs, grabbing cans of coffee from the vending machine. (pathetic, she thinks, getting teary because of lying to her best friend.)

joon hwi doesn't follow. and sol isn't one bit affected.

not. at. all.

-----

the next time sol sees joon hwi is in the morning. he’s carrying his books and has his backpack slung over his shoulder, leaning against the wall. sol braces herself. she knows joon hwi to be protective and caring. but for him to be waiting at the entrance of their dorm was downright surprising.

sol’s not doing any better. when the caffeine and sugar stopped her from staying late, she resorted to stabbing her hand to keep herself awake. when her hand got too red and bloody, she switched to another spot on her arm. underneath her hoodie is her arm with dried blood and bruises all over. she’s surprised she hasn’t had blood poisoning yet.

sol flashes the most natural smile she can on her face, pretending as if her argument with him did not happen a few hours ago. her head was numb, but hanging on with the ointment she applied at her temples. she needed to act okay. just so he would stop worrying and leave her alone.

“sol.” joon hwi’s voice calls, going forward and grabbing her arm to support her. sol is about to create a joke, laugh it off and pretend everything is okay, hopefully convincing him she’s doing better (even if she’s far from it.). but what she doesn’t anticipate is his hand accidentally squeezing the sore wound of hers,

she hisses as his fingers dig into her wound and he immediately lets go. joon hwi’s eyes well in concern, not knowing what he’s done that caused her so much pain. sol’s eyes meet his, uncertain and afraid, as if a secret has been exposed. she pulls her sleeve down and is almost regretting that when joon hwi gently lifts her arm and lifts her sleeve up slightly to expose her arm and hand.

joon hwi takes her good hand in his and drags her to an empty staircase not far from where they were. joon hwi notes the dried blood on her hand and gives a disapproving sigh. just what was she doing to herself? she draws her hand back and pulls her sleeve down, hiding it away.

“sol, you need to take care of yourself.”

“joon, i’m doing okay, i promise. it’s not a big deal.” her voice upbeat and slightly more energetic. joon hwi is about to call her out from lying, but she flashes a smile. “come on, how can an exam defeat me?”

“i’m going to be late.” she says and runs ahead of him, joining yeseul and yebeom in front. sol feels a gnawing guilt in her heart for lying, but she momentarily forgets about it as yebeom sweeps them into a conversation.

i’m sorry, joon. i really am. but i’m not going to burden you any further.

joon hwi is left, helpless and broken, watching the back of the woman he loves stray further.

-----

it isn’t a secret that joon hwi and sol a are good friends. everyone on campus is always shocked. joon hwi, the school’s top student. sol a, the school’s worst student. everyone would have expected sol b when they heard ‘kang sol’. after all, it made sense, didn’t it? the two best students in school.

but what would be even more shocking is that han joon hwi, second round judicial exam passer, is deep in love with kang sol, the klutz with the top bun.

joon hwi couldn’t deny the joy he felt whenever sol was around. it started with study group and tutoring and messages about school. then it became lunches every moment they could. now, he couldn’t go a day without seeing her, hearing her voice or even a simple text. he can’t remember the moment he started falling for the clumsy woman, but when he realised it, he knew it was too late. he was in, deep.

and that's why he can’t bear to see her suffer. that’s why he spends late nights studying with her even though he doesn't need to. that’s why he insist walking her home, even though he installed the camera. (“i miss byeol! that smart cookie...” would always be his excuse.) that’s why he calls her ‘sol’, and he lets her call him ‘joon’, even though no one calls him that anymore.

sol locks herself in her room and buries herself under multiple books after her lectures. sol admits it, she’s tired. she can barely keep herself together and her body is so weak she doesn’t know how she managed to survive the week with less than two hours of sleep combined per day. she can’t remember the last nap she had that lasted more than half an hour.

the guilt from lying is eating her inside. when she closes her eyes, she can only see how hurt joon hwi’s face looks when he saw her arm. taking a shaky breath in, she doesn’t notice the tear running down her cheek. what was she even crying about? lying? hurting her best friend? fatigue? she slams her head against her books, shaking her thoughts out. it’s already 3am, and she doesn’t have much time left.

“kang sol a, you need to do this exam, you hear me? if you want to pass out, do it later on in the afternoon! you have 9 hours till the test.” she scolds herself out loud. stabbing her arm once again, she jerks herself awake and writes her notes over and over. just 9 more hours.

later on in the day, sol finds herself seated next to joon hwi. but she doesn’t notice him. her eyes are too out of focus to concentrate on anything but the paper and pen she holds. when the teaching assistant makes an announcement to start, she races against time and scribbles furiously. her head throbs, but she clings on to her last ounce of sanity keeping herself awake.

-----

she’s worse. joon hwi thinks. much, much worse. her skin is paler than normal and her eyes are fluttery. with her sleeve pulled up slightly, he notices the wound on her hand more bloody than it was. he visibly winces. but it’s nothing to the hurt in his heart. he knows that he should be busy scribbling, but his eyes are slightly glassy and all he can think of is her bloody hand.

all he wants to do is to drag her away. to take her far from this school. he wants to hold her small body in his arms and cradle her as he tends to her wounds. he wants to tuck her into a soft bed and stroke her brown hair. he wants to tell her how he feels, how she’s perfect, smart and beautiful in his eyes. how sol has already had his validation, and no matter how many kang sols there are, he will only have one in his heart.

as the clock leaves a minute or so to the end, sol struggles to keep her head from falling. she just needs to finish the last sentence. her eyes are blurred and her head has never felt more tight and woozy. her ramyeon from 4am is threatening to make an appearance.

“sol, you’re bleeding.” she hears an familiar echoed voice say next to her. instinctively, she brings a hand up to her nose, and wipes it, revealing the bright red blood. she can’t care for her jacket sleeve and carelessly wipes even though her arm aches. just a bit more, she tells herself.

the voices around her blur as she feels hands on her shoulder stopping her. she pushes them off weakly as she finishes the last word on her paper. she lets out a breath of relief and pushes her paper away from her. she’s finally done. she can finally breathe and have that nap. someone calls her name, but she’s too tired to respond.

then her eyes rolls back and she crashes into oblivion.

joon hwi manages to catch her head before it hits the table as she slumps sideways. he scribbles his name on his paper before chucking his paper and hers towards the teaching assistant. yeseul passes a tissue over to joon hwi and shakes her, eyes getting teary. he gently blots her nose, soaking up the blood. the other students leave unbothered, with only their study group crowding around them.

the next hour is a mad rush in joon hwi’s head. they are frantic for an ambulance, but joon hwi just cradles her body in his arms and runs outside. “it’s faster to run.” he says before taking off. she’s light, way too light for her frame, even with the layered coats that she’s wearing. when he reaches the hospital, she’s laid on a stretcher and sent for checks while the nurses ask him to wait for short while outside.

and for the third time, he stands outside, clutching to a bloody tissue, helpless.

-----

joon hwi wants to beat himself over and over. he should have been more forceful with her. heck, he should have done more than just watch silently. he should have sent packed lunches, compiled his notes, offered to stay up with her. even after when he knows how much sol is suffering, he only stood by.

his eyes are teary when he is allowed to see her. she looks so small under those white sheets. the doctor mentions that they had to take her hoodie off to patch her wounds and insert her IV drip. “dehydrated on caffeine, lack of nutrients and fatigue.” the doctor tells him. he only nods as the doctor leaves him.

his group chat is pinging with endless messages and he takes a moment to update them. he sends a quick text that he’ll let them know when she’s awake. his hand brushes the stray hairs out of her eyes and as best as he can, arranges her bangs the way she likes. his touch is as light as a butterfly as he lets his fingers brush pass her bandages.

with the curtain closed around him, joon hwi lets himself crumble silently, as tears run down his face, hands gripping sol’s stained hoodie sleeve. he wishes he could do something then just watch sol lie on the bed. he knows she is okay, but knowing that he could have prevented this worse case scenario from happening makes him upset. he gives himself a few minutes to compose himself before taking his own hoodie and layering it on her.

and for hours, joon hwi sits by her bed in his own thoughts, once again helpless.

-----

when she wakes up, her head pounds worse than the time she got the worse hangover in school. her eyes flutter, drawing the attention of joon hwi. her mind is cloudy as she starts registering the antiseptic smell and bright lights. her eyes come into focus as she turns over to find a pair of warm brown eyes looking at her.

“joon hwi...?” she says with barely any energy.

“you’re awake.” joon hwi lets himself sigh in relief knowing that she’s awake. it’s already 6pm. the others should be on their way over soon. he sends a quick “she’s awake” to the chat and shuts his phone.

“i... finished my exam right?” the words come tumbling out of sol’s mouth.

“that’s all you are thinking of now?” the anger in joon hwi’s voice catches her by surprise. she lowers her hand and avoids his eyes. she’s really done it, then. she’s really pissed him off.

“aren’t you one bit concerned about your health? you could have literally died being so overworked.” his eyes are glassy. realising that he’s frightening her, he lets a sigh out. joon hwi helps her sit up and props a pillow for her. her fingers fiddle with the thin blanket of the bed. there’s no point being strong in front of him now, after all this.

“you know how much every test means to me.” she mutters in a voice so soft, it’s unlike her to be so...small. joon hwi knows under that strong woman with a fiery passion for justice, there’s a vulnerable little girl, insecure and uncertain. but this was the first time, he realised, that she’s opening up herself.

“i’m so tired, joon. i’m so tired of running this stupid rat race that i’ll never win. i’m so sick of putting everything into my grades and not receiving anything back.” her voice so small, staring at the bandages on her hand. was the pain worth it? she’s not sure now.

joon hwi doesn’t say anything back. how could he? this man was born for this system, to bring law back to the country. he can’t compare to her, who spends countless nights studying, while taking care of her family. all he can do is sit by her bed and provide comfort.

“my head hurts. my body aches all over. yet, i can’t seem to do well in my exams. tell me, joon. just how long must i suffer?” his heart is pierced with every word she says. she’s so broken. joon hwi then notices the small pearls of tears dripping down her face.

his hand reaches out and his thumb rubs away her tears on her cheeks. he doesn’t know what prompted this, but sol doesn’t swat his hand away. she lets him as her hand wipes her remaining tears away.

“i’m here now. you can rely on me.” he says softly to her. suddenly, he takes her small hand in his and squeezes it in comfort. sol’s slightly taken aback, but she doesn’t know why she feels fuzzy inside. she feels warm and for the first time, she feels her burden lifted. with much courage, she gives a small smile.

“noona!” they hear a familiar panicked voice ring and they instinctively draw away from each other. if joon hwi’s face is slightly red, sol doesn't notice. sol is swept away into arguing with bokgi with her health and a teary eyed yeseul. even jiho and sol b came, but stood by silently. (jiho notices joon hwi’s flushed cheeks and his too-bright smile that he finally realises is meant for kang sol a. he makes a mental note about it.)

joon hwi leans back as he watches yeseul and bokgi fuss with sol’s health. he suppresses a smile as he looks at sol’s light laugh, knowing how her burdens are slowly fading and lifted. that he’s finally managed to reach out for his soulmate as she sinks further. it was going to be a journey, but joon hwi will drag her, his sol, out from her darkness every time.

i’m going to be there, no matter what, kang sol. you will not fight alone. i will stay with you, even when you think you don’t deserve it. it doesn't matter if you feel the same towards me or not. if i can see you smile and laugh, it’s enough for me. your happiness is all that matters.

because kang sol, i just love you so damm much.

-----

sol doesn’t notice the switch in her jacket. when she leaves about an hour later with her friends to eat jjajangmyeon (extra pickles, she orders.), she assumes the jacket she has by her bed is hers. she doesn't notice the sandalwood and jasmine smell, as opposed to her pine scented fabrics. when joon hwi teases her and she argues back in annoyance, she’s carefree and light.

when joon hwi smiles at her with his sweet smile, she can’t help but think she’s so lucky that she has him, of all people, by her side. her heart skips a beat, and she’s certain that she feels more than friends towards him. that all this time, she has finally fallen for the cheeky and charming joon hwi behind his intellect.

she smiles back, teeth bared and eyes crinkled as they walk back.

after all, who is to stand against her now, when she has him by her side?

joon hwi, thank you for finding me no matter how much i try to hide away. thank you for believing in me when everyone didn’t. i know you like someone else, and it’s okay. because whoever that is will be so damm lucky to have you. to see you smile your charming smile is enough to put me at ease.

because han joon hwi, i admit, i have fallen for you. i’m in love with you.

-----

bonus:

“noona, they like each other, don’t they?” bokgi watches as sol a barks at joon hwi. joon hwi only runs ahead and buries his hands in his hoodie pockets while letting out light laughs and continues teasing.

“oh, they are so whipped for each other.” yeseul triumphantly says as she walks with the rest behind the not-so-obvious lovebirds.

well, this would be an interesting relationship to see unfold.

160 notes · View notes

gnocchighoul · 4 years ago

Note

The boys (+undateables?) reactions when they discover MC is actually a vampire?

....so I’m a dingus and didn’t realize that this was also for the undateables and just wrote it for the brothers, my bad 😅 Part two maybe? 👀

WARNING: as this is about vampires, it’s a little bit morbid. I strayed away from being too graphic, but y’know. Vampires. There’s death and blood and such.

Enjoy! :D

Lucifer

In hindsight, he really should have figured it out on his own.

But it’s not like he’s been around enough humans lately to know what Normal human behavior is.

So he just kinda took your... quirks at face value.

So what if you’re far too comfortable with the Devildom’s constant state of nighttime? Solomon doesn’t seem to mind it either, so maybe humans are just more nocturnal now.

And perhaps your Very Strong aversion to garlic is a little odd, but Mammon wouldn't eat it either for the first 600 years of his life, so it’s not that weird.

You’re also not phased by constantly being surrounded by demons and monsters, which is a little strange, but maybe you’re just like the ancient greeks. A monster fucker.

You feeling right at home in the Devildom is auspicious for the exchange program, so he doesn’t bother dwelling on it.

Though maybe he does find it a little bit weird when you really insist that he start drinking cranberry juice.

(It’s just for health benefits of course, totally has nothing to do with you prepping your next meal)

So what, you may ask, triggers his big lightbulb moment?

You fall off the roof.

And you just get right back up.

Now he knows that humans aren’t supposed to be THAT durable, so he stops you from scaling the side of the fucking house with your bare hands, and very eloquently asks you, “What the fuck?”

You shake him off. “What? Mammon and I are playing roof-ball.”

Lucifer stares. “You fell. I saw how hard you hit the ground. You should be dead.”

You laugh. “Dead? Just from a little fall like that? Are you serio-ohhh wait. You don’t know, do you?”

You give him your biggest, cheesiest grin and—oh.

Fangs.

...And now he understands why you want him to drink cranberry juice.

Mammon

You are, by far, the weirdest human he’s ever met.

Which is saying something, because Solomon is literally just a few blocks away.

Seriously, despite camping out in your room nearly every single night, Mammon has never seen you sleep, he’s pretty fucking sure that sometimes you don’t even breathe, you won’t step foot into the House of Lamentation unless someone invites you in, and who the hell hates garlic that much??

But you’ve also expressed your intense dislike for crosses, so he supposes that you’re not unredeemable.

Just weird.

But it’s incredibly annoying how you wont sleep. Your tossin’ and turnin’ is killing him, why the fuck can’t you just settle down? You need to just put your DDD down and sleep already, dammit.

He sits up, ready to tear you a new one—and pauses.

“Um,” his voice is high, somewhat uncertain, and your eyes snap over to look at him. “Why are you looking at coffins for sale?”

You sigh, a bit wistfully. “I just can’t stand sleeping in a bed anymore. I didn’t want to be rude, so I really did try, but it's been a couple hundred years since I last had one and it’s just murder on my back. I think I’m gonna just have to get a coffin. They’re so much more comfortable.”

Briefly, Mammon considers running.

Instead, he says, “What the fuck?”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You do know I’m a vampire, right?”

...What the fuck—

Mammon lays back down—crosses his arms over his chest with a huff and pretends that he isn’t totally freaked the fuck out. “‘Course I do, don’t be stupid. Now go to sleep already.”

So that he can escape before you try to eat him.

“Mammon,” you sing, leaning over the bed to loom over him. He swallows hard—can’t look away from your sharp, toothy grin.

You coo, “I can hear the scared little pitter patter of your heart, darling.”

He squeaks.

Levi

Honestly, Levi is so so happy to have another irl friend who’s into video games that he looks past your strangeness.

You like to stay indoors and play games!! That’s something he has in common with you that his brothers don’t, and that’s all that matters!

...Though he does find it a little weird how sometimes you just kinda sniff him.

The first dozen times he nearly had a heart attack, and when he asked why you were doing it, he Really wasn't expecting you to shrug and say “I dunno, you just smell tasty”

Seriously. Tasty? Are you Beel or something, what’s that supposed to mean?!

He’s not entirely sure why you’re a bit of a shut in gamer though, because despite your, ah, quirks, you’re still so much cooler than he is, so what’s the deal with that?

When he asks, you just shrug and say, “Old habits die hard, I guess. Real sunshine hurts, but virtual doesn’t, so I just got kinda used to living through games and staying indoors.”

“Oh.” Levi’s a bit surprised, but sympathetic. “So, you sunburn easily?”

He’s not entirely sure why you’re laughing now, since that wasn’t a joke. He was just trying to be friendly :(

But then you hug him and he’s too flustered to be offended anymore jndcks

So, when does it finally click for Levi that you’re a vampire?

You guys are having a game night in his room.

He accidentally takes a sip of your caprisun and realizes, very quickly, that it is not the refreshing juice of a caprisun pouch.

He throws up a little bit.

And screams.

And maybe blacks out for a few seconds.

But when he finally calms down and lets you explain, he’s pretty damn enchanted, because this is just like Help, My Roommate Is A Vampire And I Didn’t Know Until A Vampire-Hunter Mistook Me For Them And Attacked Me!! :D

Satan

Satan considers himself to be somewhat of a detective, y’know. His brain is just filled to the brim with Big Smarts

Naturally, he puts that jelly thicc thought tank of his to good use and realizes very quickly that you aren’t totally human.

At first, he isn’t totally sure what you are.

And then a coffin gets delivered to the house, which upon seeing you cheer “Oh sweet, my new bed!!” aaaand he puts the pieces together.

You become somewhat of a case study to him. You’re the first vampire he’s ever encountered and he just wants to know everything and anything about your life.

He’s so intrigued by you.

But you frustrate him SO much.

He wants to know about how you were turned!! It’s not like he has any other vampires that he can ask about their experience!! And you fucking tell him a different story every day!!

“A cat jumped over my deceased body!”

“I was stabbed and the wound wasn’t treated with boiling water!”

“On a dark and stormy night, I came across a palace and the owner, a hospitable gentleman, let me take refuge there. But then, I quickly realized that I was actually a hostage, and when I tried to escape, that fucker turned me!”

“Nobody put an obolus in my mouth to pay the toll of the Styx, so Charon the ferryman sent me back! What a great guy.”

“A chupacabra bit me!”

Needless to say, he considers breaking the wooden leg off one of the dining room chairs and stabbing you with it, but the lecture he would get from Lucifer just isn’t worth the effort.

He’s gonna pull the truth out of you one of these days.

Asmo

“My my, darling, what sharp teeth you have~” Asmo purrs, lifting a finger to brush against them, doe-eyes wide and curious. “The better to eat me with, hopefully?”

You smile. “Something like that.”

And you fuckin’ bite his finger.

His scream is fantastic. If you actually draw blood next time, maybe he’ll even shatter the windows!

He swats your leg sharply with a silk folding fan and cries, “What if you had broken my skin!? Do you have any idea how much time and effort goes into maintaining this soft, supple skin?! What’s wrong with you, you psychopath?”

“Don’t hit me,” you pout, scooting away from him. “I couldn’t help it! You just smell so sweet and I haven’t had any blood in a while, so—”

“Huh?” Asmo blinks, looking a bit confused. Then recovers far too quickly and waggles his eyebrows at you. “Oh, so that’s what you’re into! What a pleasant surprise~”

You thunk him on the back of the head. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to tease a vampire?”

Asmo’s grin could rival the sun.

“A vampire?! Well why didn’t you say so sooner?”

He’s already taking off his shirt.

“Get over here already and take a bite out of me~”

Beel

When he finds out that you’re a vampire, his first thought is to worry over if you can eat normal food or not.

He’s very relieved when you tell him that you can, so long as you’ve had enough blood, but that garlic is a very big no-no.

Naturally, you two bond over how both of you never quite feel full.

It’s not uncommon for the other house members to find you two laying face down on the floor, tummies rumbling, whining about how you’re staaaaarving

You carry around snacks for him, and Beel makes sure that you’ve always got access to blood (whether that means stashing blood bags, letting you feed from him, or a combo of both ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) )

He’s probably going to be the least weirded out by your ~undead tendencies~

Honestly, he’s a bit relieved by how strong you are. The last thing he ever wants to do is hurt you or see you get hurt, and it gives him peace of mind when he realizes that you’re actually pretty durable!

But it does give him a fucking heart attack the first time he sees you yeet yourself out a second story window to crush poor, poor unassuming Mammon.

He also really loves how your body temperature naturally runs cold. He’s a space heater, you’re an icicle—it just works. Snuggle time is good :)

He totally compares the size of your incisors with his jkdcnkj

He just thinks you’re really neat!!!

But he is very sympathetic about how you cant eat good garlic bread :(

Belphie

Listen.

We all know this emo boy is a vampire fucker, probably even more so than Asmo.

(He read Twilight. He saw all the movies. He had merch.)

(Fuck Edward and Jacob though, he was Team Alice all the way.)

(If he can stay awake long enough, he reads really shitty vampire romance novels.)

He just thinks vampires are hot, okay? He can’t help that his soul longs to be a vampire fucker.

Just accept it into your heart. Belphie already has.

So needless to say, he’s THRILLED when he finds out that you’re a vampire. He tries to play it cool though and pretends that he isn’t immediately trying to jump your bones dfghjkjh

He overheard you telling Satan that you got bitten by a Chupacabra, and they’re known for going after cows right?

He is a cowboy, y’know, guess you’re just gonna have to go to him now when you’re thirsty, y’know, since you were bitten by a Chupacabra. it just makes sense, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

(No it doesn’t)

(But let’s be real, are you gonna pass up the chance to snuggle the shit out of him AND get a snack out of it? No. No you’re not.)

(He totally makes you arm wrestle Beel to recreate the “Iconic” twilight scene with Emmett and Bella.)

(When he realizes that you’re strong, he’s gonna make you give him piggyback rides, just like Edward and Bella :) and no he doesn’t care how ridiculous you both look)

#gnocchicanons #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #swd obey me #obey me

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blu-joons · 4 years ago

Text

He Confesses To You ~ Jeon Wonwoo

The knock at the door was the one sound you’d been waiting for all day. As you ran over through the house to open it, your smile immediately grew at the sight of Wonwoo stood, waiting for you to greet him properly.

As his arms wrapped around your waist, you were relieved to finally feel the comfort of your best friend back around you. It was the feeling you missed every time he went away but craved just as badly the moment he came home.

After a few moments stood in your doorway, Wonwoo unwrapped himself from around you and walked into your apartment, straight through to the sofa where he quickly collapsed.

“I’m so glad that your home,” you cheered, throwing yourself down beside him, “I’ve been counting down the days for so long until you came home, and now you’re finally here.”

“It’s been so long,” he cried out, raising his arms into the air, “don’t get me wrong, I enjoy world tours, but there’s so much I miss about being at home too. Things are just never quite the same when I’m not able to be here.”

You smiled across at him, “I hope that I’m number one of things that you miss.”

Before he had chance to register what you had said, Wonwoo’s head nodded back at you. But it was anything but a lie. He missed having his best friend around, to be able to listen to your words of encouragement whenever he needed it or spend an evening with you freely whenever things began to feel as if they were getting too much for him at work or at home.

“Have you got any plans for what you want to do now that your home?” You asked him, “I’m pretty sure I’ve got some food menus lying around if you want to have a browse and see something you like?”

“No,” he chuckled, pulling you closely into his side, “I actually came straight round because I wanted to just sit and talk with you for a while. There was actually something that I wanted to talk to you about anyway, if you have a moment to spare?”

“For you? I always have a moment to spare,” you teased, turning your body around so that you were facing him, taking your first glance of the serious expression that was on his face. “Has something happened whilst you’ve been away or something?”

Wonwoo’s head shook as he let go of a deep breath, suddenly finding himself unable to so much as look in your direction. His behaviour instantly had you worried, it was unlike him to ever act funny around you when he was usually so transparent.

“Have I done something?” You asked him, trying to search for his eyes to look across at you. “Do you want some space? A drink? One of the members to come over too?”

His hand reached out to stop you as you leant across to the table to pick up your phone. You tried desperately to figure out what was going on, when Wonwoo had never acted so strange so suddenly around you before.

The silence that he gave you in response only added to your confusion, and your worry. The two of you had known each other for years, shared everything with one another, and now Wonwoo suddenly found himself unable to say a word to you.

“Wonwoo, please,” you whispered across to him.

“I just need that moment after all,” he finally responded.

“You’ve been on tour for two months, how many moments have you had? If something’s going on, then I want to know about it Wonwoo.”

The time apart had only heightened Wonwoo’s feelings, feelings that he couldn’t quite bring himself to describe to you. He knew your eyes were watching him closely, silently urging him to get talking and stop your worrying.

“You’d think after I spent the last two months thinking about this, I’d know what I wanted to say.”

You looked back at him, “what could you possibly have to say to me that you’re not able to just spit right out Wonwoo?”

His mouth parted to speak, but no words came out. It was a habit of Wonwoo’s that you were very quickly picking up on, uncertain if it was one that you’d been blindsided by for years, or one that he’d learnt to start on the road.

“Just speak to me,” you cried out, throwing your arms up in frustration. “What’s gone through your mind on the tour Wonwoo?”

“A lot,” he finally began to admit, “too much has probably been going on through my head. Trying to find a way to tell you that I love you, that I miss you, I don’t think I could even begin to try and tell you all about the different things that I’ve been thinking about whilst I’ve been on the road Y/N.”

Your hand reached across to rest against his arm as soon as he’d finished speaking. “Just rewind a little bit, did you just say that you loved me? Is that really what you’ve been wanting to say all along, how long since you’ve been on the road?”

His hand massaged against the top of his head, “it didn’t take long until we started travelling. Not having you around just made me realise how much you really do mean to me Y/N.”

“I wish you would’ve told me,” you sighed, feeling his eyes glance across at you. “I hate that you’ve spent your time on the road with all these feelings, at least if you had told me I could have told you that you weren’t alone in the way that you felt.”

The weight of the world suddenly felt like it had lifted from Wonwoo as he noticed the corners of your mouth turn up into a smile. His expression soon matched your own as he moved his arm to rest around your shoulders tightly.

“I don’t want to jeopardise anything Y/N, you’re my best friend, but recently I’ve realised that you’re so much more than that. There’s never felt like they’ll be anyone who compares to you in my life, and I really don’t think that anyone else will either.”

“You know that nothing would ever change our friendship, even if you decided to tell me you love me,” you chuckled, “but if anything, hopefully this will help us grow, not just as the best of friends, but maybe as something a little bit more than that too.”

“Is that really what you want? You’re not just saying that because this is me.”

Your head nodded as your smile grew, brushing your hand through his hair, “I mean exactly what I said, and it really is what I want. You know that I’m honest with you, if I didn’t want this, then I’d break your heart in an instant.”

His head shook at your statement, “I guess it must be my lucky day that you’ve decided not to break my heart and instead fill it with a lot of love?”

“It’s not quite your lucky day just yet,” you whispered.

“How come?”

“There’s one thing missing, can you kiss me now?”

---

Masterlist

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blossom-hwa · 3 years ago

Note

hello!! i'm in love with the way you write and the breathe & live au has to be one of the best aus i've read on here thank you so much for writing it aaaaaa

may i request another drabble for the breathe, & live au if it's not finished yet? i can't get enough of it :')))

again, thank you so much!! ^^

!!!! anon thank you so much for the kind words, it makes me very happy to hear you liked breathe, and live so much! the series is definitely not over I can tell you that, I just have to get myself off my ass to keep writing it LMAO. thank you for this request!

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

I don't know if you specifically wanted me to write for chan in this drabble - I originally was going to do that, but then I remembered this idea that a mutual came up with (it was mai or furat or both...) a few months ago for dad!minho + kid!seungmin, so I decided to write this instead. I hope you don't mind!

Read the original series, Breathe, and Live, here!

Title: The Floor is Lava!

Pairing: none (Minho centric, implied Chan x reader)

Word count: 1.1k

Triggers: cursing

"Papa."

Minho blinks. Pauses. Makes sure he wasn't just hearing things after spending way too many hours staring at the dance video on this computer screen - he needs to get this done as soon as possible, it's all ready been too long -

A small, familiar hand tugs at his pants. "Papa."

Not a figment of his imagination, then.

Minho turns in his chair, coming face to face with a solemn-faced Seungmin clutching his favorite stuffed animal in one hand. A tired smile curves his lips. “Hey, Minnie.” He swings Seungmin up onto his lap. “I thought you were asleep. What’s up?”

Seungmin doesn’t answer. Minho watches his eyes follow Soonie’s path as he slowly traipses his way around the room. “Do you want to play with Soonie?”

A shake of the head. Okay, then. “Do you want to play with Doongie?”

Another shake.

“Dori?”

Another no.

“Do you want to play with me?”

Seungmin pauses. Nods a little. Then -

“I want Jinnie.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Jinnie isn’t here,” Minho says softly, turning Seungmin around just enough to look at him. “I think he and his mom are busy tonight.” You told him yesterday you’d be going out with Chan and the kids, and that you’d probably get back a little late. “We can go and see him tomorrow?”

Seungmin nods. Stays silent. Clutches the stuffed dog in his hand even tighter.

“Alright.” Minho tries not to feel his heart crack in half. He knows he agreed to you moving out with Chan, but even then, he feels the loneliness sometimes without you and Hyunjin. He can only imagine it must be worse for Seungmin. “Do you want to play a game?”

“Okay,” Seungmin replies. “What game?”

What game, indeed. Minho didn’t manage to think this far ahead. He hums a little, eyes searching the room frantically for a game that will hopefully wear Seungmin out enough that he forgets about Hyunjin long enough to actually go to sleep...

Sometime during the course of this conversation, Dori has joined Soonie in the living room. Minho watches with an idle eye as he pads across the floor, then leaps up onto a table -

That’s it. He’s a genius.

“Minnie, do you know how to play the floor is lava?”

. . .

It takes a little preparation at first. Minho moves away the rolling chair and the smaller, unsteadier pieces of furniture. Seungmin listens carefully when Minho explains the rules - pretend that the floor is lava when he says ‘go’ and jump onto one of the toddler-proofed pieces of furniture - and warns him not to jump on any of the chairs or small tables he’s purposely moved out of reach. By that time, Doongie has also joined them, so when Seungmin asks if the cats are going to play too, Minho just shrugs and says yes. Why not?

“Remember the rules, Seungmin?” Minho calls from his spot in the middle of the living room.

By the couch, Seungmin nods. Smart boy, standing next to a piece of furniture. He definitely got that from Minho.

“Okay.” He smiles. “Three, two, one... the floor is lava!”

Seungmin scrambles onto the couch with a tiny shriek of laughter. Minho barely manages to get onto the table after Dori decides right now is the best opportunity to try and weave through his legs, forcing Minho to basically trip onto the table. “Again!” Seungmin cheers as Minho almost falls flat on his face. “Again!”

A cat jumps onto his back. Probably Dori, the bastard. Minho groans. “Let me get Dori off my back,” he wheezes, subtly trying to edge the cat off. “Come on, stupid cat.”

Finally, Dori is on the table too, and Minho can sit up to catch his breath. This isn’t going very well for him, but Seungmin’s beaming like he hasn’t all evening, and that’s what’s most important. “Alright,” he says, smiling. “Ready, set... the floor is lava!”

Seungmin leaps onto a chair at the same time Soonie does, which earns him a face full of cat fur and Minho a screeching laugh that widens his smile. Minho collapses onto the couch where Doongie has claimed a spot. Said cat looks at him with a disdainful eye when he lands on the cushions.

“You try being a father,” Minho mutters under his breath.

Doongie just turns back around, pressing his nose into his tail. Minho wants to say more, but Seungmin’s yelling “again! again!” once more all the while hugging Soonie, so Minho turns his attention back to his son and they begin to play again.

Fifteen minutes pass before Minho falls off a chair and onto the floor, prompting Seungmin to screech out a “Papa fell in the lava!”, which in turn prompts Minho to pretend that he’s dying, awkwardly flailing his limbs before assuming a comical dead position on the floor. As Seungmin’s laughs ring in the air, Doongie comes over to investigate his body. Minho kind of wonders why it was the possibility of him being dead that got Doongie to actually come over here.

Better not to think about that too much, the helpful part of his brain says.

Soonie and Dori join Doongie, and once Minho has reassured Seungmin enough times that the game is over and the floor is no long lava, his son joins them too in one little pile of fur and bodies on the floor. Minho hugs him close, feeling Seungmin giggle into his chest, and smiles despite the tiring evening. “Tired?” he murmurs into Seungmin’s ear, patting his head. He gets a little nod in reply.

For the second time that night, Minho puts Seungmin to bed, reassuring him that they’ll go to see you and Hyunjin tomorrow and that yes, maybe they can play the floor is lava with all of the other boys too. When Seungmin’s breaths have evened into sleep and Minho thinks he can safely leave the room, he pauses in the hallway and smiles.

Tomorrow, they’ll go over to your place and see Hyunjin, Jisung, and Felix. Tomorrow, Minho will get to see you and make sure you’re okay, all the while subtly reminding Chan that if he does anything to hurt you, he’ll pay.

Tomorrow, Seungmin will laugh like he did today.

Tomorrow, Minho will smile like this again.

Tomorrow...

Minho pauses in his thoughts. Is he sure about what he’s thinking? Absolutely sure?

He’ll never be sure. He can’t see the future. Every new day is uncertain. But for now, he can predict. He can wonder. He can believe.

He smiles again. Yes.

Tomorrow, things will be okay once more.

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years ago

Text

Hello! Not the promised angst, but I needed to cheer myself up today, so here’s some cuteness, a touch of emotional hurt, and a soft ending.

(CW for discussion of drunken shenanigans, after the fact, extremely mild.)

The moment Crowley woke up, he knew something was wrong.

Even with his eyes closed – the room smelled too dusty, the air too dry. The pillows were too soft, the sheets nowhere near Egyptian cotton, and he was burrowed under a blanket that was thicker and heavier than anything he owned. It was comfortable, but it was wrong.

There was also someone moving nearby, footsteps treading softly near the bed.

Old instincts activated, bringing him from drowsy to alert in less than a second, without changing his posture in any way. Let the intruder think he still slept. He pictured the layout of his room, the distance to the door, the exact spot of the fancy lamp on his bedside table. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it should buy time. He’d need to roll over, it was behind him, and from the sound of it the intruder was…inside…the wall?

Pressing his face into the pillow, Crowley slowly cracked open one eye.

The wall was much farther away than he remembered, and the room much brighter, and filled with bookshelves, and…

“For Ssssssomeone’s sake, Angel,” he groaned, sitting up. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Aziraphale turned from where he was sliding books onto a shelf, blinking innocently. “I’m terribly sorry, did I wake you?”

“Obviously.” He glared around the room, which seemed identical to the rest of the shop, apart from the presence of the bed, and beside the door a wash table with pitcher, bowl, and pile of black towels below a small mirror. Everything else was floor-to-ceiling shelves, filled with spines of bright leather, faded cloth, and even a few paperbacks. The tartan curtains in the windows were identical to those hanging from the four corners of the bed.

“Well, I didn’t mean to. Just tidying up a bit while you rested.”

“Hng.” Crowley abruptly realized those were not towels on the wash table, but a pile of neatly folded clothing. A quick – if hopefully unnoticed – search under the covers revealed he wasn’t wearing much. “What, mmmmh, what happened last night?”

“Last night?” Aziraphale sounded genuinely confused.

“Don’t—” He struggled to remember through the sleep-colored haze. “We went to the Ritz. Celebrating. Then came back here for some wine and…”

“Ah.” The angel set the rest of his books down and crossed the hardwood floor. He’d taken his shoes off, presumably to be quieter, but Crowley could still hear every pad of tartan-socked feet, every creak of old boards. “Yes, we had…quite a lot of wine. I dare say we’d earned it, after the day we’d had, but your mood went from celebratory to rather daring, to, I suppose…downright scandalous.”

“Ngk.” Crowley clutched at the mattress where Aziraphale couldn’t see, and kept his jaw locked and face neutral. He was sure he could have hidden is reaction completely, had he been wearing his blessed glasses. Still didn’t know where those had ended up.

“Oh, yes.” Aziraphale sat on the edge of the bed, almost close enough to touch. “Somewhere around midnight you suddenly leapt to your feet and staggered across the floor, declaring you were…well…you wanted to do something you’d never done before, something you’d never have been allowed while we were still on our old sides.”

“Oh, no.” There was no hiding it now. Crowley’s hand shot out to cover his eyes. “Oh, no, no, Aziraphale…I…”

“It was all quite garbled and slurred,” the angel continued, “but I think it had something to do with teaching the Bentley to fly?”

“!”

Peeking over his hand, he caught a glimpse of Aziraphale’s shining eyes and amused smile. And, yes, now that he thought of it, he distinctly remembered his elaborate plan to miracle the engine and…

“Nnnnrrrrrg, tell me I didn’t crash into anything.”

“Now, really! I was hardly going to let you leave in that state.” Aziraphale quickly stood up, tugging the blankets smooth again. “No, I dragged you up here so that I could lock you in until you agreed to sober up and be sensible again.”

“Oh. Oh. Good.” There was no hiding his red face now. He lowered his hand and tried to subtly pull the blankets a little higher up his bare chest.

“You didn’t seem to think so at the time. Called me a self-righteous jailer, among other less-savory terms. I was worried you’d break the window and escape that way.”

A quick glance revealed that he hadn’t done that, at least. “Aziraphale, I – I—”

“I came in an hour later.” Now his eyebrow arched, an expression Crowley rarely saw. “You had removed most of your clothing and dropped yourself on the floor next to the bed. Claimed you were looking for the bathtub.”

That was it. Crowley was going to discorporate from sheer embarrassment. A perfect ending to their attempted defection. Hell wouldn’t even kill him for this, just make him retell the story over and over for their amusement…

“Actually…” He looked up again to find that Aziraphale’s face had gone serious. “Considering, well, what I’d seen that day…I didn’t find it very funny at all. So I helped you into the bed and told you to stay here until you’d recovered. And you. Ah.” He fidgeted, twisting the ring on his finger. “You asked me to join you. Because…because the forces of Hell were still after you. And nothing would stop them.”

“Nnnnnnnnh.” Crowley dropped back onto the bed, pulling blankets to his chin and turning his back on Aziraphale. He remembered, far too clearly, the two demons barging into his flat – Hastur suddenly appearing in his Bentley, which was more his home than anywhere else – a thousand intrusions of voices and faces over radio and television, whenever he least expected it – the ground rumbling as Satan himself approached—

Aziraphale continued, voice very soft. “You seemed…confused, but truly afraid.”

“Did…did you…?” Even turned away, he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

“No. I thought it would be, ah, inappropriate considering your…state. But…I did promise to stay in the room and watch over you until you woke.”

Somehow, knowing that made Crowley relax, just a little. “And…you were here all night?”

“All night? My dear fellow, that was three days ago. But, yes, I’ve been here the whole time. You talk in your sleep, you know. In dead languages. It was quite amusing.”

“Mmmmmnnnnnnrrrrrgk,” Crowley managed. Then, much softer, “Thanks.”

“It was my pleasure.” The sound of his fingers brushing the fabric of the blanket seemed too loud in the quiet room. “Are you…ah…you may sleep longer, if you wish?” He sounded uncertain.

Crowley shrugged.

“Perhaps I should give you privacy—”

“No.” He bit his lip. Stupid demon.

“Oh. Well. Would you like me to go back to what I was doing? I’ll try to be quieter this time.”

“No.” Stop that. “F’you want.”

“I see.”

A short pause, then the blankets stirred, the mattress sank under the new weight.

And then, pressed up against his back, a glorious warmth, a soft curve of stomach. Aziraphale’s arm draped across him, loose but secure, pulling him a little closer. Protecting him.

“This?”

“Yes.” Relax wasn’t the word for it; Crowley felt himself melt against his angel, a hundred creeping unnamed fears that were always with him suddenly dissolving into a warm glow.

“You rest, then. I’ll be right here.”

“Mmmmh.” He closed his eyes, the better to take in the sensations, the brush of breath on his neck, gentle pressure of fingers, the velvet softness of Aziraphale’s waistcoat.

“Oh. Um. There was one other thing. When I put you in bed you, ah…you tried to kiss me.”

Crowley’s eyes flew open.

“I…I said…you could try again when you were awake. Ah. If you still wanted—”

Quick as only a snake could be – if he were any slower, he’d have time to talk himself out of it – Crowley twisted around and pressed his lips into Aziraphale’s cheek. Then he spun back, lips still tingling, entire body ready to burst into flames from sheer embarrassment.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Sweet dreams, my dearest.” And gently kissed Crowley’s shoulder blade.

“Nnnnnnnk.” He managed to find Aziraphale’s hand and clasp it, weaving their fingers together. “Good night, Angel.”

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