#you’re securing more silly art in your future!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writings-of-a-hufflepuff · 3 years ago

Text

Prompt List #11 - The Language of Plants (1/?)

All Prompt Lists

So I have a language of flowers/plants book and I wanted to write some stories with them myself, but I figured they’d make good prompts for people in general or a good reference list.

This is only a small section of the book, so there will probably be more prompt lists in future on this theme. Some of these will be easier to write with/use than others.

Feel free to use 1 meaning or multiple meanings to create a story or drawing etc.

Feel free to tag me in it as well as with all my prompt lists.

Fir Tree - Elevation; Friendship; Height; Honesty; Longevity; Manifestation; Perceptiveness; Progress; Remembrance; Resilience; Time

Chinese Bell Flower/Parlor Maple - Enlightenment; Meditation

Yellow Acacia - Chaste love; Concealed love; Elegance; Endurance of the soul; Friendship; Immortality; Platonic love; Purity; Resurrection; Secret love; Sensitiveness

Gum Acacia - Platonic love

Bear’s Breeches - Art; Artifice; Fine arts; Misery; The Arts

Maple Tree - Longevity; Love; Money

Fernleaf Yarrow - Good health

Arrowroot ☠ - Courage; Healing; Heartache; Love; Psychic Powers; War

Cupid’s Bower - Such worth is rare

English Monkshood ☠ - A deadly foe is near; A foe is near; Beware; Chivalry; Danger is near; Deceit; Fraternal love; Gallantry; Knight; Misanthropy; Poisonous words; Temperance; Treachery

Sweet Cane ☠ - Affection; Aflutter; Aphrodisiac; Delusion; Fitness; Lamentation; Love; Lust

Fairy Candle ☠ - Rough

Desert-Rose ☠ - Death; Delusion; Fictional; Illusion

Maidenhair Fern- Discretion; Secrecy; Secret bond of love

Blood Drops - Painful recollections; Recollection of life’s pleasure; Sad memories; Sorrowful recollections

Hollowroot - Weakness

Red Chestnut ☠ - Good luck charm

Common Horse Chestnut ☠ - Luxury

Dog’s Parsley ☠- Foolishness; Gullibility; Silliness; To burn

African Pepper - Judge

Lily of the Nile ☠ - Love; Love letters

Buku - Good Fragrance

American Agave ☠ - Security

Flossflower ☠ - Delay

Common agrimony - Gratitude; Thankfulness

Common Corn Cockle ☠ - Gentility

Bugleweed - Cheers the heart; Lovable

Common Hollyhock - Ambition; Ambition of a scholar; Fecundity; Fruitfulness; Liberality

Lady’s Mantel - Soft

Aloeroot ☠ - Complete; Powerful

Indian Walnut ☠- Enlightenment

Buttercup flower ☠ - Heavenly Chief

Flowering Onion - Strength; You’re elegant; You’re perfect; You’re perfect and elegant

Broadleaf - Lingering presence

Bulb Onion - Emotional Release; Multi-layered protection

Shallot - Unrequited love

Garlic - Courage; Get well; Strength

Chives - Usefulness; Why are you crying?

Chinese Leek - Courage; Strength

Alder ☠ - Giving; Nurturing

Aloe Vera - Bitterness; Dejection; Grief; Integrity; Luck; Most effective healer; Religious superstition; Small talk; Sorrow; Superstition; Wisdom

Field Meadow Foxtail - Fun; Sly; Sport; Sporting

Lemon Beebrush - Attraction; Attracts the opposite sex; Love; Sexual attraction; Sexual attractiveness

Shell Ginger - Comforting; Diversity; Pleasant; Safe; Strength; Unlimited wealth; Warming; Wealth

Blue Ginger - Aromatic

Peruvian Lily ☠ - Powerful bond

Common Marshmallow - Dying for love; Unmarried

Sweet Alyssum - Worth beyond beauty

Maile - Fragrance of love

Amaranth - Endless love; Fidelity; Immortality; Never fading flower; Unwithering

Foxtail Amaranth - Desertion; Hopeless; Hopeless not heartless

Flower of Immortality/Floramon - In waiting; Love

Amaryllis ☠ - Artistic endeavours; Beautiful but timid; Innocence; Pastoral poetry; Pride; Radiant beauty; Scholastic achievement; Shy; Sparkling; Splendid beauty; Success won after a struggle; Timidity; True beauty; Writing

Bitterweed - Courage; Immortal; Love is reciprocated; Love returned; Mutual love; Your love is given back; Your love is reciprocated

Blue False Indigo ☠ - Formless; Shapeless; To immerse; Without form; Without shape

Corpse Flower - Decomposition

Butterfly Orchid - Domestic quiet; Gaiety

Cashew Apple Tree - Reward

Poor Man’s Weather Glass - Appointment; Assignation; Change; Faithlessness; Rendezvous

Pineapple - Chastity; Joy; Perfection; You are perfect

White Mustard Flower - Resurrection

Common Bugloss - Falsehood

Garden Anemone ☠ - Abandonment; Abiding love; Anticipation; Being Forsaken; Estrangement; Every gardener’s pride; Expectation; Fading youth; Healing; Health; Illness; Love; Refusal; sIckness; Sincere; Stauch love; Suffering and death; Withered hopes

Crown Anemone ☠ - Forsaken; Immortal love; Sickness; Withered hopes

Thimbleweed ☠ - Abandonment; Desertion; Forsaken; Love; Sickness; Serenity

Soya - Good luck; Cheer

Norwegian Angelica - Inspiration; Inspire me; Symbol of good magic; Symbol of poetic inspiration

Summer Snapdragon - Presumption

Christmas Orchid ☠ - Atonement; Guidance; Hope; Idleness; Purity; Reconciliation; Royalty

Kangaroo Paw - Unusual

Chamomile - All who know you will love you; Attracts wealth; Energy in action; Energy in adversity; Energy in times of adversity; Ingenuity; Initiative; Love in adversity; Patience; Sleep; Sleepy; Wisdom

Buffalo Grass - Peace; Poor but happy; Spirituality

French Parsley - Serenity; Sincerity

Snapdragon - Creativity; Deception; Force of will; Gracious lady; Indiscretion; Never; Presumption

Flamingo Flower ☠ - Abundance; Adoration; Happiness; Hospitality; Love; Lusty love; Romance; sensuality; Sex; Sexuality

Celery - Banquet; Entertainment; Feast; Festivity; Lasting Pleasures; Merriment; Rejoicing; Useful Knowledge

Indian Hemp ☠ - Deceit; Falsehood; Inspiration

Baby Sunrose - A serenade

Agar ☠ - Spirit of life

Lion’s Herb ☠ - Courage; Deserted love; Desertion; Folly; Foolishness; Love; Strength; Wisdom

Star Pine ☠ - Various Leaved

Madrona - Only love; The only do I love; True love; You are the only one I love

Cane Apple - Esteem and love; Esteemed love

Cape Dandelion - Omen; Presage; Sign

Burdock - Falsehood; Importunity; Touch me not

Crowberry ☠ - Grape of the bear

Palm Tree - Fertility; Peace; Spiritual; The Tropics; Victory and success; Vacations; Victorious

Sandwort - Sand-loving

Silverweed - Naivete; Simplicity

Dragon Root - Ardor

Friar’s Cowl - Ardor; Deceit; Ferocity

Sea Pinks - Sympathy; Sympathy for the Fallen

Horseradish - Bitterness of enslavement

Southern Wormwood ☠ - Absence; Aphrodisiac; Bantering; Constancy; Fidelity; Jest; Jesting; Lustful bed partner; Pain; Seduction

Grand Wormwood ☠ - Absence; Adultery; Bitterness; Destruction; Do not be discouraged; Exile; Idolatry; Love; Poverty; Separation; Torment of love; Unpleasant

Dragon Wort - Horror; Lasting Commitment; Lasting interest; Lasting involvement; Permanence; Shocking Occurrence; Terror

Mugwort ☠ - Awareness of our spiritual path; Dignity; Good luck; Happiness; Tranquillity

Wild Arum ☠ - Ardor; Zeal

Spanish Cane - Chanter; Clarification; Communication; Complaisance; Imprudence; Music; Musical; Pipes; Purpose; Rendezvous; Song; Traveling; Woodwind

Milkweed ☠ - Hope in Misery

Blood Flower ☠ - An attack against love for love; Call to duty; Difficult lessons learned; Leave me

Butterfly Weed ☠ - Heartache cure; Let me go; Love

Asparagus Fern ☠ - Fascination

Garden Asparagus ☠ - Fascination

Yellow Asphodel - Languor; Regret

Asphodel - For the dead; I will be faithful unto death; My regrets follow you to the grave; Regret; Regrets beyond the grave; Remembered beyond the tomb; The Underworld; Unending regret

Aster - Afterthought; Daintiness; Elegance; Faith; Farewell; Fidelity; Hope; I partake your sentiments; Light; Like a star; Love; Power; Symbol of love; Talisman of love; Variety; Valor; Wisdom

Astilbe/False Spirea - I’ll still be waiting

Chinese Astilbe - Dull; Without brightness

Astragalus ☠ - Your presence softens my pain

Wild Liquorice ☠ - I declare against you

Belladonna ☠ - Falsehood; Hush; Loneliness; Silence; Warning

Golden Alyssum - Tranquility

Autumn Leaves - Melancholy

Oat - Music; Musical; The witching soul of music

Nimtree - Complete; Freedom; Imperishable; Life; Noble; Perfect; The cure; To life; To Live

Azalea ☠ - Fragile; Fragile passion; Fragility; Modest; Passion; Patient; Romance; Take care; Take care of yourself for me; Temperance; Temporary passion; Womanhood

#prompts #prompt list #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing prompt list #drawing prompt #drawing prompt list #language of flowers #language of plants

66 notes · View notes

thisbrokenmask · 4 years ago

Text

Matching Pair

pairing: female reader x Kim Namjoon

genre: fluff, very light angst

word count: 2,266

warnings: brief mentions of struggling to conceive, hella fluff

summary: you return from a day of shopping with a surprise for your husband.

a/n: so, this fic is unbeta’d and was written on my phone, but I was too excited to write it after getting some very wonderful news today - I found out I’m going to become an auntie for the very first time next summer! I’m beyond excited, and it ended up giving me inspiration for how to finally use the ‘Fuzzy Boots’ prompt on my @btsholidaybingo card!

“Joonie?” you call out for your husband as you close the front door of your home, already feeling the heat of the house warming you from the growing winter chill outside. Gently putting the shopping bags containing your few new purchases down to the side, you take off your shoes and your coat and put them in the closet by the front door. You don’t hear an answering call from Namjoon, but you do find his house keys still in the little cubby in the closet when you hang yours back up, so you know he’s home.

Heart fluttering and excitement rolling in your tummy, you grab the handles of your shopping bags and head upstairs, your bare feet sinking into the carpet of the stairs with quiet relief. Even though you decided against heels today, the several hours you spent searching for the perfect items has still left them aching and you once again pat yourself on the back for choosing a thick pile when you decorated the house.

You bite your bottom lip to try and hold back your grin as you head to your bedroom to deposit all but one of your shopping bags, although you can’t help the slight skip in your walk as you once again go over what’s about to happen. Leaving your discarded purchases at the foot of the bed to sort out later, you clutch the most important one tightly as you seek out your spouse.

Surprisingly, he’s not in his home studio, the small soundproof room normally your first port of call on the rare days Namjoon doesn’t head into the BigHit buildings to work. No, instead you find him in the little snug-come-library at the end of the hall, a slight dip in his brow from how concentrated he is on the words in front of him.

The library was a room you both insisted on having when you found this house, as you both needed somewhere to store your vast collections of books you had amassed over your lives. The custom floor-to-ceiling shelving had been fitted perfectly for the room, with a few open spaces left for artwork to break up the visual of hundreds of book spines.

While your respective hoards of literature had combined, there were still traces of your individual hobbies nestled among them. Several small houseplants contributed pockets of green and, as Namjoon pointed out, a sort of poetic contradiction to the many books you owned; the living among the dead, as it were. He tended to them daily, whereas your offerings required much less attention.

In your many years of travelling before and after meeting Namjoon, you’d developed the habit of collecting one small trinket from each country or city you visited. Whether they represented particular landmarks, native animals or cultural figures, you always brought home something to remember each place by, and now many of those trinkets filled the spaces left behind by oddly-shaped books or accompanied a bonsai as it grew between the shelves.

In the centre of the room, on top of the plush mauve rug you’d fallen in love with at first sight, sat two armchairs. They didn’t match each other, but matched you and your husband instead. You’d gotten the idea from UP!, knowing when you’d first seen Carl and Ellie’s individual chairs that you wanted to do that with your future partner. And the library became the perfect place for these perfectly mismatched chairs, another way to show how the two of you had come together in this room that housed so many of your joint passions.

Your chair, currently empty, was the plushest wingback chair you’d ever seen; a beautiful, royal blue velvet chair that made you feel like you were in a house that could be found in a Jane Austen novel. Your husband’s chair, in which he was now sat, was burnt orange in colour, square and simple in shape, with arms curled over to remove any harsh lines. You’d hated it, initially, but the more you’d seen it on the shop floor and then saw your husband lean back into its cushions, the more you decided that it suited him, and that was what mattered. Despite its simplicity, it was a bit too big for you to sit in comfortably, although you would often climb into it and burrow under several blankets when he was away.

You’d now grown accustomed to the barrage of colours and styles in your little library, a fondness for the apparent chaos that still shocked newcomers, making you giggle every time.

As you so often find yourself doing, you take a second to admire Namjoon in his studious reading pose: one leg resting across the knee of the other, his right elbow propped up on the armchair and his hand cradling his chin, index finger extended across his lips in contemplation. His left hand cradles his book seemingly effortlessly, his simple gold wedding band glinting in the warm orange of the afternoon winter sun that pours in through the window across the room. It’s still the only golden piece of jewellery he wears, and it still makes your heart bloom every time you catch sight of it.

In the split second you’ve taken in his appearance, he’s become aware of your presence. Only his eyes move at first, flicking up from the page to the door to see who’s walked in. When he sees you standing in the doorway, however, he immediately slips his bookmark into place and puts the volume down on the little table between the chairs. The ease and immediacy with which he gives you his whole attention never fails to make you feel a little giddy.

“Hey,” Namjoon’s expression melts into his warmest smile, all traces of his previous concentration vanished at the sight of his wife. His eyes briefly drop to the bag in your hand before returning to you. “Have fun shopping?”

You nod as he extends his hand towards you, slipping your palm into his and letting him gently pull you close. He sits you in his lap, one arm curled around the back of your waist and the other gently resting across your thighs, his hand melding to match the curve of your flesh. The warmth of his palm is noticeable even through your jeans, rippling throughout your body like a breeze kissing the surface of a lake.

“Is that for me?” he nods towards the bag by his feet, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss to your temple.

“Nope,” you smile, then pause. “Well, I guess it kinda is. Wanna see?”

If Namjoon is confused, he doesn’t show it. He loves the way you think, loves how you can see something completely different from him when you both look at the same art pieces on your gallery trips, loves how you can find even the loosest connections between two ideas in a way he’d never thought of. He doesn’t always understand you at first, but he loves that about you, so he waits patiently for you to explain.

You lift the bag into your lap, the hand across your thighs moving to secure it in place while you open it. You turn it away from him as you pull out the contents, but he’s not even trying to peep inside; his eyes are focused on you, on the little ways your expression changes when you get thoughtful, or excited, or anxious, and right now you’re a bit of all three.

“Ta-dah!” you singsong proudly, presenting him with a pair of fuzzy, light brown slipper boots. You try not to giggle as his expression falters slightly, although he quickly covers up his obvious confusion with bemused intrigue, gaze jumping between you and the boots as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on.

“These… are for me?” he can tell just by looking at them that the boots are way too small for him, they’re definitely your size, and he’s struggling to figure out how they could be ‘kinda’ for him.

“No, these ones are mine, silly!” you laugh, gently bopping the tip of his nose with your finger. The relieved sigh that falls past his lips only keeps your laughter rolling and he loves the sound, cheeks dumpling as he grins up at you.

“Of course,” he agrees easily, smirking down at the boots as you gently run your fingers through the fluffy material, then cocks his eyebrow. “So how am I involved in this?” he pauses, then tilts his head to one side. “You’re not going to wear them to bed, are you? I know I said your feet are cold but I actually don’t mind it so much anymore-”

“These ones are mine,” you say, cutting him off, holding up your boots for emphasis before twisting in his lap to put them on the floor. His hand on your waist reflexively holds you tighter to keep you from toppling.

When you then look at him with a smile he can only describe as mischievous, he knows he’s fucked: he’s a sucker for your playfulness, willingly walking into even your silliest pranks just to see your face light up and hear the melody of your laughter when you celebrate your victory.

His mind whirs through every option he can think of that could somehow relate those fluffy little boots to himself. Maybe you’ve bought him new slippers too, but like your mismatched chairs they’ll be different styles, perfectly suiting each of you in a way that makes them work together. Maybe you’ve actually bought him matching ones and he can’t decide what will be worse: having to wear them to please you or refuse to wear them to please himself. He feels the smallest flicker of heat in his cheeks when he considers fluffy handcuffs, but he dismisses that though when he remembers how your gaze darkens whenever you get out the pairs you already own rather than brightens, like it has done right now.

He’s at a loss, but you don’t make him wait much longer before you grant him an explanation.

“They didn’t have matching daddy boots, unfortunately, but-” he doesn’t have time to register the term when you pull out the remaining items in the bag with a flourish. “They did have these matching baby boots, and I just couldn’t resist!”

He stares down at the little pair of fuzzy boots, the same light brown colour as yours. They’re barely bigger than your palm as they sit side by side and he doesn’t know how something so small can knock all of the air from his body.

He can’t speak, can’t swallow, almost can’t breathe. He can only stare.

You watch as Namjoon’s features drop and give him a few moments to process the sight in front of him. You’re sure your lip is about to bleed with how hard you’re biting into it, desperate to cry and cheer and celebrate with him but wanting to give him his processing time.

When he doesn’t say anything after a longer time than you were expecting, you begin to worry he’s upset rather than shocked. When he finally speaks, though, his tone is so level you genuinely think he’s angry.

“Y/n,” he says, gaze lifting to meet your eyes and locking onto them. You feel his body grow tense beneath you, the grip on your waist tightening and releasing as he battles with the emotions building in his chest. “Who are these for?” His throat bobs with a dry swallow and you feel your stomach drop a little bit, suddenly realising how this may have come across to him.

You and Namjoon got married nearly two years ago now, and you’ve been trying for a baby for just over a year. During that time, Namjoon has found more than one or two bags of baby clothes tucked away in your side of the closet, onesies and booties in varying designs and colours despite the fact that none of your attempts had been successful. His heart had broken for you every time, knowing how desperate you were to become a mother, but, despite his own deep-seated desire to be a father, he’d insisted you return the items each time and forbade you from bringing home anymore baby items that weren’t gifts for expecting friends or relatives. It was painful for him, too, to keep seeing the negative pregnancy tests in the bathroom trash, but he knew that it would only hurt more if you kept the clothes with no baby to fill them.

It had been months since you’d last even looked at the baby aisles in any stores, but today was the day things changed.

“They’re for us,” you told him gently, the words barely above a whisper yet filling the space between you. You see the tears begin to well in his eyes at the same time his grip on you tightens one last time. He stares up at you, eyes wide and watery and full of hope, and you let the widest grin loose on your lips.

Leaning forward to touch your forehead to his, both yours and Namjoon’s eyes fall closed. Shuddering breaths push at the air between you, your hand pressing to his chest to feel the way his heartbeat gallops under your palm. Your own tears start to glide over the apples of your cheeks as you finally let the weight of your news overwhelm you, knowing that you’re both finally going to see your dreams come to life.

“They’re for our baby.”

If you would like to read any of my other works, please follow me and head on over to my masterlist ♡

174 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 4 years ago

Note

For the meet-ugly prompts: #13, Indruck, SFW ? 👁️👁️

Here you go!

13: we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine

The Phoenix Starport is a labyrinth, while technically made of chrome and touch-screens, is really made of lines.

Duck stands in line to show his ticket, to deposit his bags, to go through three separate security check-points and, when he gets to the section for the shuttle to take him to the Starliner, a fourth one because when your clients are high paying, you don’t want them getting blown to pieces.

He isn’t high-paying, he isn’t a seasoned space traveler, and he isn’t going to spend one second more on his feet than he has to. It’s been two solid hours of that just to get to this point. Unfortunately, every other passenger shares this sentiment. When the shuttle door opens a mass of lifeforms pile in, hunting for seats. Duck spots one, turns to sit, and finds it’s much fuzzier than it looked.

“Excuse me.” The creature whose laps he’s in reminds him of the pictures of Mothman scattered around his home state, “but this seat is taken.”

“Yeah, by me, because I saw it first.”

A click from inside the mothmans chest, “You are wrong. I saw it first, and did not foresee anyone being rude enough to use me in its place.”

Every other seat is filled, and it’s a fifteen minute ride to the Starliner. Duck crosses his arms, “you don’t wanna be a seat, you better get up.”

That earns him an annoyed chirr, “Not a chance.”

The shuttle ride is smooth, but his seat keeps prodding him with a clawed finger whenever he puts his weight on it. When they arrive, the two of them stand one after the other. The mothman shakes out his feathers, tosses a glare over his shoulder, and steps through the doors.

Unsurprisingly, the Sylvain Dream makes opulence seem subdued. There are rare flowers studding the fountain by the concierge desk, art from across the universe on the walls, and a sound dampening, shimmering carpet lining the hall to his room. He’s looking forward to some alone time; while all the suites at this level are technically two person, they’re so expensive that most travelers get their own rooms.

He keys open the door and comes face to chest with the same fucking alien from the shuttle.

“Ah. So we are in this timeline. Lovely.” The mothman says dryly, passing him to greet the bellhop who just finished scurrying up the stairs, “I see you have a message from minister Woodbridge. Kindly have someone reply and tell him that if it’s an emergency, they may contact me directly, but if the matter is anything else, they are to leave me in peace during my journey.”

“Yes, Seer Cold.”

“Thank you.” the seer drops a coin into his hand and brushes past Duck without another word.

Duck finally makes it past the entryway and gasps; when the people paying for his journey asked if he’d prefer forest, city, beach, or desert, he assumed it was some sort of vague theme. Instead, the carpet is lush, soft grass, there are flowers everywhere, and the furniture is all made to be woodsy and rustic. The bath and shower are like a mini water-fall and pool, his bed housed in a mock cabin.

“This is amazing.”

“If you are here purely for a leisure trip.” His suite-mate crosses both sets of arms, “some of us are being transported back to work.”

“Now look, this is a work trip for me too. You gotta admit this is pretty swank.”

“And an attempt to soften the blow.” Mothman mutters.

Duck rolls his eyes, decides this is not his problem to deal with, and goes to unpack for the month-long journey ahead.

-----------------------------------------------------

For the first two days he and Indrid--which is what the aloof, perpetually touchy Sylph likes to be called--do their best to ignore each other. They’re stuck on the same dining schedule, which means Duck accidentally insults the alien by giggling when he sees him lick his dessert up with an absurdly long tongue. He makes it up to the next night by saving the pineapple soda delivered in their lunch basket for the Sylph.

On day three, he’s reading by the holo-fire pit when a white badge with blue writing dangles before him.

“Would you like to accompany me to the spa?”

“Uh….”

“Since I foresee you asking no, we do not have to spend the entire time together.”

“I, uh, I was gonna say sure, but was wonderin’ why you offered it to me.”

“Oh.” His antenna flick in a new way, “I, ah, they gave me two. I have no one else to go with and it seemed silly to let it go to waste.”

“I gotta wear anything special?”

“Since humans require clothes in all but a few scenarios, I suggest wearing your robe.”

The spa is just as elaborate as the rest of the ship, with cushy chairs and complimentary booze. The secretary hands them each a menu of treatments bigger than any Duck’s held at a restaurant.

“Sugar scrub….talon wax….rock massage. Do they mean hot rocks?”

“No, that treatment helps those with scales shed.”

“Huh.” Duck pokes his tongue in his cheek, “wish they said which of these were safe for, uh, squishy human bodies.”

Indrid reaches out a claw, tapping several on the list, “This ful massage would be good; you’re muscular, it will be nice to have those muscles tended to.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. Have been workin out more, nice to have someone else notice.”

The Sylph smiles, “you may also like the hair luxury add-on; I’ve always thought humans with salt and pepper hair should show it off.”

Before Duck can ask how Indrid developed that opinion or learned that slang, they’re ushered off into separate rooms. He’s scrubbed and rubbed until his body surrenders the last of it’s stress, the oils they rub on his skin and into his hair smelling pleasantly of pine and cedar. His session ends with one of the staff leading him to a small room covered in deep green marble, where he can rinse and dry off in his own time.

Indrid is in the same room, reclining in a chair with a sun lamp on his wings. They’ve been groomed, the feather straighter and smoother than this morning. Duck takes his first real look at them, notices how the black is iridescent and that there are two bands of deep grey on the inside close to Indrid’s torso.

He’s really quite stunning.

“I feel” Indrid murmurs, “as if we got off to a bad start.”

“You think?” Duck aims for a genial tone.

Indrid cocks his head, “Yes. That is why I said it. I, ah, I ought to apologize for my temperament over the last few days. I am so very fond of earth, of humans, and I’d hoped to be able to work there indefinitely. But Sylvain is in crisis, and so they need me near. Never mind that we have the capability to transmit messages quickly between planets.”

“What’s the crisis?”

“Our plants are dying or failing to produce the resources we need. The belief is that-”

“-it’s a leftover contamination or mutation from the earth plants that crossed through the gate before it was destroyed.”

Indrid blinks, then grins, “it is novel to be the one having their sentences finished. Yes, Duck Newton; the gate has been gone for over two hundred years, but both our worlds will feel it’s effects for many more years.” His antenna perk up, “you’re the one they’re bringing on to consult.”

“Yep. That’s why they gave me such a sweet deal on the trip; they know it’s gonna be fuckin exhaustin work. Even with all the other perks they’re offerin, I know a lot of folks didn’t wanna apply.”

“Why did you feel differently?”

He pushes to the other side of the little pool so they can be closer, “I spent my whole life in the town I grew up in. I love what I do, I love helpin forests stay healthy and regrow and I...I dunno, how often do you get the chance to go to space and see forests on another planet?”

“Once, if you are me.” Indrid closes his wings, clicks off the light, and offers Duck a hand, “and I am glad you will have the chance to do the same.”

-----------------------------------------------

“You know” Indrid passes Duck the plate of toast, “I am named for Sylph who was the second most recent seer after myself. He and I are the same kind of Sylph, and when my parents learned their mothling-to-be was the next seer, they decided I would be Indrid Cold.”

“Not gonna lie, people actin like your fate is set in stone from birth gives me the creeps.”

“Understandable. I would not admit this to the other ministers, but I am no longer content with reporting on the futures. I try to change fate when I can. In this way, I am also like the first Indrid Cold. He kept trying to intervene in disasters; that’s how he got seen when he should not have been.”

“Holy fuck, there really was a mothman!”

“Indeed. I also learned from his personal notes that he was so fond of humans, he ended up marrying one.”

“Damn” Duck passes him the sweetener for his tea, teases, “you share that habit too?”

Red eyes linger a moment too long on his body before Indrid grins, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

----------------------------------------------

“You sure you don’t wanna swim?” Duck treads water in the green lagoon of some distant moon. The cruise is docked for an activity day, Duck having selected to spend it snorkeling and Indrid deciding to spend it with Duck.

“The wings are not built for it. Though the water does look pleasant.” Indrid lazily sifts black sand through his claws.

“You could wade in. It stays pretty shallow there” he points to a sand bar.

“If I get in over my head, will you come to my aid?”

“You know it.”

Indrid wades in, chirping as the waves hit his knees. When Duck next glances at him, Indrid is glancing right back. He’s smiling, soft and secretive.

“I am glad you picked this spot. The view is spectacular.”

-----------------------------------------------

They’ve hit turbulence a handful of times, all of which pale in comparison to the jolt that sends him tumbling out of bed. There are stabilizer controls to lighten the gravity in the room so they won’t feel the bumps as badly. But when he wobbles over, he finds it’s already up to the lowest it can be without him floating.

He stumbles to the window, the curtains shut against the vast universe. Is turbulence this severe normal? If the gravity doohickey isn’t able to help, maybe that means they’ve never hit a storm this bad.

Opening the window is a terrible idea; there’s no cause of the turbulence to be seen, and now he’s in a dark room staring into the depths of space, it’s so big, he’s so small, they all are, the forces of nature still have it in them to crack this ship like an egg, killing them all.

“Would it help if I said there are no futures where this storm poses a threat to us?” Indrid whispers from behind him.

“Kinda.”

“Would it help to see something breathtaking?”

“Wh-”

Indrid taps the glass, drawing Ducks attention to two massive, starry shapes, “Celestial whales. At least that’s the human name for them.”

“Holy fuck.” They remind Duck of Whale Sharks, but impossibly bigger, skin coated in thousands of star-spots, “how can they do that? I mean, obviously they ain’t mammals, but fuckin nothin thrives in deep space.”

“No one is certain.” Indrid sighs, happily, “isn’t it wonderful to know there are such things in the universe?”

“Yeah. AHfuck” He hits the wall as the whole ship shudders, “fuck, sorry-”

“It’s alright. It can be alarming when you’re on your first trip through the cosmos. I, ah, I have something that may help, if you’re alright with me touching you some.”

“Fine by me.” Duck follows Indrid to the Sylph’s bed. The seer sits cross-legged with his back against the wall and instructs Duck to rest his head in his lap. The points of his claws begin rubbing his neck and the base of his skull, Indrid humming at a low, steady pitch until Duck’s eyes start to close.

The pressure points are helping, he can tell by his loosening spine. But what soothes him to sleep is the repetitive reminder of Indrid there with him in the dark.

When he wakes up the storm is gone. His body is still moving, rising and falling in time with Indrid’s breath as he sleeps. He pulled Duck atop him in the night, and at some point must have wrapped him in his wings, since once, is still half-flopped on Duck’s back.

Seized with affection, Duck kisses his shoulder. When this earns him a happy chirp, he does it again, then kisses a cheerful path up to Indrid’s cheek. Red eyes open, sleepy and full of tenderness, just in time for the Sylph to turn his head and kiss Duck properly.

“What a lovely thing to awaken to.”

“No kiddin” Duck kisses him again, “fuck, Indrid, this is the weirdest goddamn thing to ever happen to me and I’m thinkin it might also be the best.”

Indrid hugs him close, “We shall have ample time to find out, if you wish to do so.”

“Hell yeah. But we only got a few days before we hit Sylvain.”

“Yes” Indrid kisses his nose, “but I happen to foresee Woodbridge ignoring my request for peace and sending me a message saying I will be working closely with a certain, visiting forestry expert.”

#indrid cold/ duck newton #indruck #taz amnesty #meet ugly #reader request

26 notes · View notes

pockymllk · 4 years ago

Text

Pt 2 of Pocky’s Manhwa recs for hopeless/historical romantics!

If you liked my first recommendation list, this one will be an instant hit for you as well<3 Read on if you’d like to meet more strong female leads (maybe a dash of villains here & there) and romance and of course amazing stories.

1) A capable Maid (also called ‘a talented maid’)

The useless maid, Marie, has never been able to do anything correctly. But, after caring for a dying prisoner, she becomes a person she had always wanted to be. This is the start of the capable maid, Marie.

- I’ve never seen anyone talk ab this manhwa and it’s so criminally underrated! I’m playing favourites here but 100% I can’t recommend this one enough.

- The story itself is an extremely refreshing face in the sea of isekais and whilst the main plot right now is on a lighter side I can see the story diverting to a more mature/serious tone soon so it’s a perfect balance without being overly complicated. The plot is simple but engaging and it actually has a serious sense of direction which makes you feel rewarded when it progresses at each chapters. But I will admit that the first few chapters were a tad bit slower so it’s something you should keep in mind!

- I think part of the appeal of this manhwa for me is the FL. while I love seeing stunning FLs with blonde hair and blue eyes, seeing this allows me to create a sort of silly little attachment to her. Despite her humane flaws and all, I can say that FL is one of my favourites.

- like many other romances there is surprisingly few cliche scenes and by far my favourite thing about this manhwa is how well paced the the romance is with the FL and ML . It is very realistic (no sudden love at first sights) and is a result of a buildup over the chapters. It also has one of the healthiest relationships ive seen so far including their interactions make it so cherished because you’ve been rooting for them since the very start. This manhwa knows how to deliver the romances at the right times and develops it well too

- both FL and ML are so tooth rottingly cute I swear my heart actually fluttered at some scenes

- highly highly recommend if you want a lighter read, steady plot and a strong capable young woman with her blushy yet heartbreakingly stubborn prince

Over rating : 4.9/5.0

Bonus thoughts : I also really like the art as it’s not completely over the top but so gorgeous at certain parts (look below for what I’m talking about hehe)

2) The Villainess is a Marionette

Cayena, the Imperial Princess, was known as the most beautiful woman in the Empire. She was a woman who knew nothing but evil and luxury.However, she was destined for ruin: she would be used as a chess piece by her younger brother to secure his throne and killed by her crazy husband. She had to change things before she became that Cayena.

- I cannot recommend this enough!! It does have your typical trope of a once foolish female lead reliving her life after a 2nd chance and tbh I’m not really fond of the cliches but damn, I absolutely adore this one.

- The story itself is a perfect balance between character and plot focused (politics, romance, power struggles etc), I see further development in the plot later on but since it’s still in the first 30 chapters it has done a great job setting up the base already. Oftentimes the politics can get a little confusing but overall it still follows a very clean frame.

- I’m absolutely smitten with the female lead instead of the male lead (she is just so admirable + respectable), definitely a must read if you wish to see a mature and well written character paired with the storyline. I’ve read many stories regarding this trope but I promise there’s something special about this one that you won’t regret reading

- Also! (TW: mental health) I think this story does a really great job capturing past traumas and definitely doesn’t shy away from showing the effect it can have on the characters so please keep in mind when reading this!

Overall Rating: 4.8/5.0

Bonus thoughts: I can fangirl ages about the art again but gosh its absolutely stunning and so pleasing to the eyes which just makes this manhwa such an excellent read overall

3) A Symbiotic relationship between A rabbit and a Black Panther

I was a rabbit shapeshifter who couldn’t even transform into a human by my coming of age ceremony. My family said that I was just a halfling and placed me in a basket… Then I was then picked up by a black panther with an awful personality. This fierce beast. Staring at my trembling face, the black panther’s eyes glistened. “How thrilling.” Mom, I think he’s crazy! To survive a fairly crazy black panther. “The wild beasts are possessive, no matter what it is.” ….Is it possible?

- oddly eccentric FL and ML. the first thing that drew me in was the story and I stayed for the characters.

- the only thing I’d like to point out is that this manhwa doesn’t have the best plot(?) imo and is most driven on by the unique characters that draw you in instead. This might not be suitable for everyone especially if you’re looking for a well written story.

- still, FL is so adorably cute in her own way and I love that she’s so stubborn at times. it really shows that she’s strong in her own right without any help from others and ML is so weirdly funny at times I love it

- I can’t wait to see where the story will go further on as it’s pretty new so maybe the plot will pick up it’s pace in the future!

Overall Rating : 4.0/5.0

#manhwa recommendation #pocky's manhwa recs #manhwa recs #manhwa #a symbiotic relationship between a rabbit and a black panther #the villainess is a marionette #book recommendations #10/10 would recommend #a capable maid #romance

26 notes · View notes

xjoonchildx · 5 years ago

Text

airplane, pt. 2 | jjk x reader chapter four: los angeles

pairing: jungkook/reader

word count: 2.2K rating: 18+

genre: smut | silly smut | nonsensical smut

warnings: criminal!jungkook, koreanamerican!jungkook, reality has left the chat, plausibility has left the chat

A/N: i’m not a huge blog and don’t have a lot of readers -- but i’m so, so, so grateful to every single one of you who’s reached out to me on AP2. hearing what you think about this story makes my day every time. from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much. hope you enjoy this chapter. the story wraps up in the next one!

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

artwork by the shmexy @ppersonna who’s smut is even better than her art

***********************

“You see, as messes go -- there are levels.”

Seokjin takes a big sip of his draft beer then sets it down to free his hands.

“On the bottom are your run-of-the-mill problems,” he says, putting one hand out flat.

His other hand comes out to hover over the first.

“Then your regular-level shitshows, then your high-level shitshows and then there’s disasters,” he says, stacking his hands in the air to demonstrate the escalation.

You smother the urge to roll your eyes. Like most lawyers, Seokjin loves to hear himself talk.

He’s also an old friend, someone you trust and someone who’s help you desperately need -- so you’re going to have to suck it up and let him have some fun at your expense.

It’s only fair.

“Then somewhere way up here -- ” he stretches his upper body for effect, “ -- way past disasters is the shit you just told me. Somewhere way off the charts. Are you with me?”

You nod, taking a sip of your own beer.

“Yup.”

“So what the fuck?”

You laugh. You know it’s bad form to call up a buddy you haven’t seen in months, tell him you want to buy him a beer and then dump the world’s most complicated case at his feet.

It’s just that you haven’t been able to come up with another solution.

You’ve turned this problem over in your mind hundreds of times by this point -- envisioned dozens of ways this could end. No other scenario makes sense in the long run. This is the only way to put a stop to this madness without Jungkook behind bars for the rest of his natural life.

Or worse.

That’s why you’re prepared to pull out all the stops with Seokjin. You’re not going to let him get away with letting you down easy.

He hasn’t laughed you out of this bar yet so you’re taking that as a good sign.

“Jin, there isn’t anyone else who could pull this off,” you say, meaning every word. “I know you can fix this.”

He snorts.

“This guy gave agents the slip in two different countries and ghosted from a federal courthouse,” he takes another sip of his beer. There’s limits to what even I can do. Not that I don’t appreciate the ego stroke though, you know I do.”

You gnaw at the corner of one fingernail, thinking.

“So who is he?”

“I already told you, he --”

“Cut the bullshit,” Jin interrupts. “You know what I’m asking. Who is he to you?”

Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question?

“It’s complicated,” you sigh, and even that is somehow oversimplifying this entire fucked-up situation. “Not sure I know how to explain that.”

“Oh, I’m willing to bet there is quite a story there,” he smirks. “Some day you’re going to have to fill me in on all the dirty details.”

You glance away for a moment to avoid his knowing look.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it,” you say. “I’ve seen guys way worse than this get deals that kept them out of prison entirely.”

“Well you of all people know how this works, so don’t act brand new,” Jin retorts. “You want the government to play ball with this guy then he’s got to give them something they want. If they don’t have any use for him, they have no reason to show mercy.”

“I know that,” you admit. “Still trying to figure that part out.”

“So figure it out,” Jin pushes back. “‘Cause I’m an attorney, not a genie. I’m not in the wish-granting business. Bring me something I can use and we’ll go from there.”

We’ll go from there. A careful hope stirs in your chest when Seokjin says that.

You promise yourself you’re going to bring him an angle that works.

Now you’ve just got to find it.

*****************************

“Who is this guy to you?”

Jin’s question echoes in your head the entire way home.

It’s so much easier to focus on the what -- Jungkook on the run and all the problems that come with it -- than it is to focus on the why.

The why scares you too much to confront head-on. It’s not like you love this man, right?

He could be a terrible person. He could be as rotten in real life as he is on paper.

He could be playing you. It’s certainly not the first time the thought has crossed your mind.

But every time you start to entertain the doubts, something pulls you back. You can’t shake the feeling that Jungkook is none of those things. You can’t forget the way he looked at you in Puerto Rico. His face that night is forever burned into your mind.

So he’s either completely real or the world’s most convincing fake.

You pour a glass of water and unlock the burner phone. The message you’d tried to send back to the number he contacted you from bounced back. There hasn’t been a single new message since then.

You take a drink and consider what step to take next.

There is no way you’re going to push Jin to fight on Jungkook’s behalf until you know without a doubt this is something Jungkook wants for himself. For all you know, he’s happy with riding this out until the end. He could be totally at peace with the idea of never being at peace.

You stare at the screen for a moment before making up your mind to dial the number you’d found online.

The voice on the other end answers in Korean.

“Yoongi?” you ask.

The line is completely silent for a few seconds.

“I distinctly remember you promising me I’d never hear from you again,” comes the curt reply. You smile to yourself imagining the scowl he’s probably wearing right now.

“I did,” you admit. “Thing is --” you pause and choose your next words carefully, “ -- circumstances have changed. So I’m asking for your help one more time.”

Yoongi makes an aggravated noise, something between a growl and a grunt.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“I might have a way to help him. Nothing is ironed out and there are no guarantees, but it’s something. It’s just that -- I haven’t been able to reach him.”

“Yeah well, neither have I.”

Shit. You hope the situation hasn’t gone completely upside-down in Nicaragua already. Getting him there was supposed to buy you some time.

“Okay, “ you exhale, pacing your kitchen floor. You tell yourself there could be a million reasons why he hasn't reached out to anyone. You tell yourself not to panic. You certainly don’t want to panic Yoongi, either.

“I need you to take down this number. If you reach Jungkook, you need to give it to him. Tell him if he wants to end this it’s the only way.”

Yoongi blows out a heavy breath.

“Yeah, alright. Go ahead.”

*****************************

God, you are really starting to hate this place.

The voice in your head that’s been telling you how deeply unsatisfied you are in this job has slowly gotten louder over these past few months. Now it’s all you can think about every morning as you swipe your badge and walk into the polished lobby.

This isn’t some labor of love for you.

It’s something you trained to do, started doing, kept on doing and you’re still doing now.

On and on and on in an endless string of days.

You’d started this job with the kind of starry-eyed enthusiasm that always annoyed the veterans around here. Now you can understand why. It doesn’t take long in this line of work to realize that justice is a concept that’s bought and sold. He who has the most cash makes the rules.

You grab a cup of coffee and log onto your computer to start in on the mountain of paperwork that awaits. It’s laborious and annoying and total bullshit but at least it’s a distraction. At least it keeps you from obsessing over the Jungkook situation non-stop.

So you throw yourself into the work just to make the hours tick by.

Your boss stops by before lunch, asks if you want to join him and some of the others at a local deli. You cry off, complaining about paperwork and deadlines and he smiles sympathetically as they head out. It’s a relief when their laughing voices fade away and this part of the office falls silent.

You are half-way through customizing your burrito order online when a shiver of realization walks up your spine.

***********************

��Seokjin Kim.”

He sounds so formal, answering his phone for a number he doesn’t recognize.

“Hey, it’s me,” you say, tossing your keys onto your kitchen counter.

“Oh, I didn’t realize -- wait, wait, wait. Are you calling me from a burner?” Jin asks incredulously. “Wow, it’s like we’re on The Wire or some shit.”

“Shut up,” you huff, rolling your eyes. “I’m calling because I think I might have come up with the angle.”

Jin whistles.

“Hope it’s a good one.”

“Yeah me too,” you mutter under your breath. “I just -- I can’t be involved in any way. I’m not even going to be able to talk to you until this plays out. No texts, no calls to my cell. I’m already way out on a limb here.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he says. “But hey, just for the record? A favor is something like, ‘Hey Jin, can you drop me at the airport on Tuesday? Hey Jin, would you mind picking up my dry cleaning?’ You know, for future reference.”

You laugh. Points were made.

*************************

You tell yourself -- this is long overdue.

That with or without Jungkook -- with or without the madness on that flight or the night in San Juan -- this was going to happen anyway.

And for the first time in weeks, you actually smile at the security guards who check bags at the entrance. You smile at the barista who talks too much at the Starbucks in the lobby. You smile at the creep from Cybercrimes on the elevator, even though he’s standing too close. He always stands too close.

You feel lighter than you have in ages and that’s fucking bizarre, because this could all still blow up in your face at any moment. Despite all you’ve done, Jungkook could be arrested at any time -- hauled away, locked away in prison for life. Hell, you could be joining him at some point, disgraced and discredited and detained.

But you woke up this morning and had a moment of clarity that knocked the wind out of you. Today, you’re going to walk out of this building on your own terms.

Every decision you’ve made along the way -- good or bad -- has been yours.

If they show up at your door with a warrant, then you’ll handle it. If they haul you off, then you’ll handle it. If Jungkook decides he wants Jin’s help and the agency never sniffs out a thing, then you’ll handle it.

You’ve done everything you can -- so either this works, or it doesn’t. But there’s a big fucking difference between being cautious and being scared.

You’ve decided you’re not going to be scared.

You read over the letter you’d typed, printed and signed before walking into your boss’s office.

His mouth gapes in surprise when you hand him your resignation.

Effective immediately.

************************

It’s been three weeks without a word from anyone.

Yes, you did specifically tell Jin not to reach out, you remind yourself.

The last time you two had spoken, you’d explained that you didn’t give a shit about losing the job, but that you were certain were entirely too prissy to make it in prison, and he’d agreed and you’d both shared a laugh about that.

But now it’s been over three weeks and he still hasn’t reached out.

You’ve had no word from him, no word from Jungkook and now you have no job.

The silence is deafening.

If there’s an upside at this point, at least your house is immaculate. You’ve gotten your daily run up to three miles.

Tonight the air is unnaturally cool for this time of year, more than welcome when you lace up your running shoes. You set a good pace, make good time, and drown out the outside world with your earbuds.

But at the end of your run -- just as you’re getting closer to home -- you notice something odd.

Your porch light is out.

Which is weird because you definitely remember replacing that bulb not too long ago. You cut the music and walk quietly up to your door.

Your entire body is on high alert as you approach slowly, keys in hand on the off chance you’re going to have to wield them like a weapon.

But when you step up to the porch you find -- nothing.

No creep waiting to jump out of the shadows to ambush you. You shake your head at your own overactive imagination, take a deep breath and tell yourself to relax.

You slide your key in the lock.

The sunlight that had waned at the start of your run is entirely gone at this point, and you open the door into darkness. You flip on the light, toss your keys on the small table you keep in the entryway.

“Don’t freak out, okay?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice that comes from your living room. From your couch.

From inside your goddamned home.

Oh my god.

**************************

#jungkook smut #jungkooksmut #jungkook x reader #jungkookxread #bangtanarmynet #xjoonchildx #xjoonchildx fic:AP2 #btssmut #bts fanfic

763 notes · View notes

werezmastarbucks · 5 years ago

Text

more like honeymoon [1]

stuck in the prison world together with kai, and it turns out to be awesome

kai parker x reader (ER)

word count: ~4160

warnings: mentions of suicide, suicide, graphic violence, glorification of violence

music: right in the text + darkside by iann dior and travis barker

DON’T WORRY BE HAPPY by Bobby McFerrin segment

You danced, while making sandwiches. This kitchen rocked. They had... they used to have about four hundred types of cheese.

The only thing they lacked seemed to be black bread, so you were forced to make one yourself. Kai was a bit grumpy about it since he wanted to move on to the library, and you got stuck in this hotel. He ended up going without you, while you had a go at making bread, and returned with a hip of books that he threw around in the lobby. He moved all the cozy puffed armchairs together and created a neat nest that didn’t seem to have an end, right in the middle. You were still getting used to how incredibly stylish everything was back in ‘94. The year was absolutely special to you, and you couldn’t have wished for a better year to get stuck in. The best music was already out, the fashion was on its peak, and they already thought of creating relatively skinny jeans - not the kind you enjoyed in the new world, but not the baggy horror of the eighties, either.

It’s been one month and a half that you stayed in the prison world, and it was going very well. So far, it felt to you like a long prepaid holiday with absolutely no restrictions. You were breaking into houses and raided supermarkets, you could visit any cafe and any shop, Kai changed cars every day unless it was a Chevy; maybe there was something dramatically wrong with your head, you had no way of knowing.

You were spreading California cheese on fresh, still warm slice of black bread, dancing goofily to music, and chopping tomatoes.

Kai was resting like a little birdie among the expensive cushions which you knew he’d spot with the tomatoes or the cheese, and you still brought the food out. He gasped, excited, and threw the books away, and you stuffed your faces.

Every day, which was the same day again and again, you discovered the new shades of good in him which was frankly unthinkable before. Kai Parker good; but it seemed like being back in prison either broke him completely, or, more likely, put him back into the environment he knew well. Sooner or later you work out your comfort zone; some people, spending years in imprisonment, learn to live and enjoy the place. Not because they’re weak, but because it’s a survival instinct. Kai’s survival instinct was unbelievably strong.

You listened to music and traveled, and every day you asked yourself when the horror will settle in, and it still didn’t. Looked like, with the right company, and the whole world to explore, the magical prison world could seem like a resort.

COME WITH ME by Phil Collins segment

You were standing on the edge of the Canyon. Kai was holding your hand, clearly thinking about something.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been here before”, he muttered.

You were considering other things.

“Where’s the path again?”

“Right there, where the river turns. There’s a narrow way between the rocks that leads up”.

He looked at you. The sun was slowly going up, climbing over the red mountains, coloring them in insane shades.

“We don’t have to do it, if you’re afraid”.

His face gave a mocking expression as he squeezed your hand lightly.

“I’m not afraid”.

“Then just do it. I gotta say, the first thing I’ll do when we get out, I will marry you”.

You got distracted from your thoughts by this. You looked at him. The rising sun was coloring him, too. Kai had that kind of face which you always wanted to hold. It was just so... holdable.

“You fucking with me?”

He shook his head with a smile.

“No. This place doesn’t even feel like a prison anymore. I love it. Because of you”.

Of course he loved it. He had the whole planet at his disposal, but he wasn’t alone anymore. He still had magic from the merge, and he was high and lovestruck. He was about to jump from the Grand Canyon and fall to death, and then come back and continue his journey.

You’d asked him before which way to die was the most painful. This was about to be your first time dying. Before that, you only witnessed people die.

He said being crashed by a car slowly was probably objectively the most painful. He has never set himself on fire because he wasn’t crazy.

The irony completely escaped him.

Feeling your joints tear, and bones shatter, and all, that’s the worst. But psychologically, suicide was scarier. Knowing that it’s your own hands doing that. Falling from a height like that, there was danger of breaking something and staying alive for a fragment of a second, being horrified by the violent collision with the sharp pieces of rocks, but you wouldn’t probably even notice. Jumping from the Canyon was your idea, and that was why he got so inspired.

You looked at each other. Dying together is fucking symbolic, and this world rocked. For a second there you thought, even if you didn’t know you would resurrect, you would still jump, as long as his hand was holding yours.

You interlocked your fingers not to lose each other too soon, and hopped down. The air whistled and howled in your ears as you fell down. It’s nothing like flying, you thought with disappointment. And too fast, as well. You see nothing but the racing red stone. The feeling of being free is still good, until you crash into the first step of the hard mountain, crushing your skull in several pieces.

The Grand Canyon didn’t hear you two die, it was too big.

It took you the whole day to get out, but it was okay because the next day was the same again.

HEARTS IN FLAMES by Red 7 segment

And the next one. And the next. You discovered something you kinda know, but can’t fathom completely until you actually go there: on the other side of the world, it began with night, because it was the eleventh of May after midnight. Somewhere, the time was going further, and somewhere it was slower.

You rode down the long sandy and stone roads in the deserts, and sped as much as you could, not afraid to crash. You ate at any place you wanted to, Kai showed you the ‘secret’ recipe of making the McDonald’s fries, and he cooked it so well you didn’t see any difference. The process looked disgusting, and you knew, once you got out, you’d never go to McDonald’s again.

Once we get out became a kind of a proverb, a catchphrase you used, hopeful and indefinite, and light-hearted. Neither of you really suffered or felt confined in here; you didn’t know when you’d get out, really, because this time the Mystic Falls gang seemingly made sure Kai never has a chance to walk the earth again. You were just there when they tried to send him away, and you wouldn’t have it.

There are several most important moments in a person’s life, and you knew, in a weird way, that was when you and him got absoultely, ultimately connected. It was your chance to stand up for him for once, and, more importantly, to show him that there is somebody after all who refuses to give up on Malachai. So they sent you away, too. Clutching hands together, as you held his open wound, because Kai kicked and bit better than anybody else you knew, and they had to stab him first, you flew away in a tunnel of white light, didn’t feel anything, and it was ‘94 again.

Once we get out had all kinds of plans you weren’t sure you’d fulfill. Like marrying, and getting a car, and moving away from Mystic Falls. Settling down in New Orleans was yours, and burning New Orleans down to the ground was his, because he didn’t want to live there.

Once we get out was a point in the future very vague and distant, because, three months since you landed in the front lawn of the Salvatore mansion in the past, you had only a spell that was useless without Bennett blood. Somebody, whoever hid the spell, overestimated its importance hugely, and went a very hard way to secure it. Kai found it in Florence, of all places. He couldn’t speak any Italian, and your saying you’re fluent in French only made him chuckle with adoration. Do not let it fool you, his adoring chuckle only meant he thought you were a silly creature. French is no use because it’s Italy, bella, he said. Your ass started arguing that a lot is similar in the languages, and he shut you out with jokes. Then went into the library. You preferred to spend time in the streets, cruising around and remembering everything Anne Rice used to write into them.

The spell was scribbled on the piece of yellow paper and put into The Name of Rose. The backup spell which allegedly could go round the whole blood routine. Kai tried it and nothing happened. You weren’t even that sorry, and you both looked at each other long, promising you would keep looking. But honestly...

The whole world. It was yours.

YOU GOT IT by Roy Orbison segment

You had to carry a big bag with you now with the clothes you ‘stole’ from shops because, even though you could change every day, there were still a couple of things you refused to let go of. Kai was trying to teach you to travel light, but the whole life spent in a usual world still had a hold on you.

You realized you liked sweet life, you liked staying at the big houses where the rich people of ‘94 used to live, with all the rich things they had. The pools were the same, and the mini bars, too. May was warm and sunny, especially so in warm and tropical places, and only in Madrid it constantly rained, again and again.

You realized you still had an overall petrifying respect for the pieces of art, but the prison world was an amazing chance to push your limits. Whatever you destroyed, returned back on its place the next day, because it was the same day. You watched Kai swing a bat at Venus herself. The poor gal didn’t have arms for all you knew. He had no mercy for her. Everything here was like a video game. Kai only did it to show you what it feels like. It seemed like he was determined to use this opportunity to make you completely liberate yourself, but something had a hold on him, too.

You danced a lot, you found it especially romantic to dance in the dim lights of the evening in the hotel lobbies. You could choose anything, anywhere, and yet, so it happened that when you finally got tired of traveling non-stop, you found yourselves in Las Vegas. Kai said, awesome, this city has the best hotels. You really doubted that.

But nothing was better than dancing with him, foreheads touching, in the empty, well-furnished space of the Cesar Palace, and sing to each other. Without other people constantly interrupting, the time and schedules, other faces triggering hatred or anxiety in him, it became so easy to just be with each other. You were high on the free wealth, the opportunities this empty planet provided. You had no idea how much Kai was really enjoying it.

The feeling of closeness was overwhelming, even you felt that. Sometimes you wouldn’t be able to let go of each other for days; Kai kept his journal he understandably abandoned once he got out of here the first time. Now, it was its second go. By the time you have finally had sex to every single song in your 576 songs playlist, it’s been seven months in the prison world.

Las Vegas was cool but it was a desert. However, the desert was simply magical at the end of the day, when the heat settled down, and the dense air cooled a little. You’d drive down the avenues of the empty city to look at the dark and lit buildings. Some of them looked occupied, but there was nobody. You never understood what determined which windows were lit.

CLOSE TO YOU by Maxi Priest segment

“Sometimes I was thinking about killing you”.

You’d be more surprised if Kai had never thought of it. When you love someone, you think about killing them constantly. The one option you never tried before left, which is an absolute no go. The forbidden apple of relationship, the ultimate joy of possession, feeling as the life drains from the one you love. You wondered if it would be scarier than jumping off the Canyon if he killed you. You didn’t know if that was Kai poisoning your mind already, or it was what made you two click in the first place.

“Now you have the chance”, you said. He looked a you, cocking his head, and examined you as if trying to understand if you’re joking.

“You want me to kill you?”

Uttering it was still a little bit too much. You were nervous about falling down that rabbit hole where the whole pushing the borders experiment turns into bloody twisted chaos, and you end up like the children from Gummo. Senseless, pointless violence, filthy, dictated only by lust or ignorance. Kai was far from that still. He was essentially hurt and curious, not filthy. He was bold in the ways he professed his violence. But there’s always this danger of going too far and not being able to pick yourself up anymore.

“I mean, it would be good for you. You know what your cravings do to you if you don’t let the steam off from time to time. Now you can kill me safely and close that door”.

He was thinking about it quietly.

“I’m not interested in hurting you anymore”.

It sounded like a song.

But he listened to you, and listened well.

“By the way, if I can kill you, then you can kill me, too”.

Your head snapped towards him.

“I know you”, he chuckled, “you always wanted blood. But you’ve never killed anybody, have you?”

You shook your head no. Kai was like a serpent playing disinterest, but you could see the tip of his tongue split two ways, showing through his sharp teeth as he spoke.

“It’s a changing experience. Nothing quite like it, a good exercise”.

“Did you actually enjoy hurting others?”

“It felt necessary”, he said simply. “I woud die if I didn’t. Better them than me”.

You looked at him blinking slowly. He was a textbook killer you’ve read about millions of times. The philosophical question of whether that darkness that pushes them towards violence has the bottom and end was still unanswered in the future. You yourself had some gems of unanswered mysteries inside of you. Why were you so attracted to this boy, what made you want to stick with him so much? Why this obsession with being the only one who cares for him? Momma complex much? The saint redeemer? He was just so so cute and murderous and that was it. Maybe you did come from a completely cursed generation after all.

“How would you do it?” Kai asked. You were sitting on the porch of a suburbs house you chose to squat in by the way. It was your ‘pretending like you’re middle class’ week.

“Stab you”, you replied, without thinking. “You?”

“I’ll choke you”, he responded, looking at you. You noted how he didn’t use the conditional, but the future. He has made his mind up.

He took his time, though, trying to intrigue, or unnerve you, perhaps. It’s been about two weeks, or even a month, and you almost thought he forgot about it, which wouldn’t be atypical of him. His thoughts were all over the place.

You really loved this house, resembling any house from a 90s sitcom, with that big family couch in the living room which had the way right into the kitchen.

You finished doing the dishes and put the last plates away. Kai usually cooked, and you did the cleaning, all was fair. He appeared silently, wrapping his hands around your waist, and distracted you with heated kisses. They were heated literally, like he had a fever; you turned to feel his skin, and drowned in the kiss. You felt the itchy hot wave coming up, as his hands slid down your hips, and suddenly, his fingers were on your throat. He broke the kiss, leaving your mouth open, and the next second his face was cold, eyes black like two pieces of coal and you recognized that old Kai whom you met at the Grill. While he was still pretending to be fun, pretending to be nice, before you two got together.

His palms closed on your neck and your brain went in overrun. A part of you knew that was something you had discussed beforehand, and he even chose the right time, just after the sunset, when the kitchen was only lit by the pink-scarlet cloud light. A part of you, the more physical chunk, started fighting him, and the air got blocked out from your throat. The feeling of your own cartilage pressing on your artery was one of the most disgusting types of pain you’ve ever experienced. Your hands flew up, slapping his face, but he could as well be made of stone. The murderousness of Kai Parker was unmatched. Like a bulldog, once he closed his clutch, there was only one way it’d end.

Slowly, as you suffocated, blood throbbing in your eyes, he laid you down, while the darkness was consuming you. Damn, it’s taking so long, you thought with a grudge. You’ll definitely kill this dick back. You knew choking someone takes minutes, but these minutes feel like agonizing hours when it’s you being choked. Just relax and try to enjoy it, your mind said, and you suffocated even further on the inner dying laughter. Your hands were shaking violently as they grabbed his, and you wiggled on the floor. He shook you once, banging the back of your head on the tiles, and you almost blacked out. Your body bent out towards his in a fake desire motion. He put his knee on your stomach to keep you in place and pressed further and you died slowly, confused the hell out, in pain, and a little but irritated.

IKO IKO by The Belle Stars segment

You stood there, looking at the row of knives. A song from the future got stuck in your head, where there were lyrics that went,

that you’ll love me more when I’m dead

Your overall mood has not changed. It was just so good to be together, all the time, like a long, magical [sic!] honeymoon. You did not argue. You weren’t upset. Sometimes you’d get slightly disappointed, entering supermarkets, like this one, and expecting people to be there. After all, you have spent a huge chunk of your life... well, all your life, surrounded by other people.

It was another side of good though, knowing, that Kai is the only other one here. He joked a lot about ‘the last girl on Earth’. He was extremely romantic about it.

One of the knives laid in your palm obediently. It was beautiful: short stirdy grey handle, and the sharp broad blade. You could almost see your own reflection in its perfectly clean steel. There’s something about knives. Something about their inevitability, their thinness. You weighed it in your hand, completely mesmerized. You liked knives and was always the one to chop all the food before Kai could cook it. You were the Chopper in this... family?

You turned to look at him, the tall, lean frame, his black as hell head cocked on the side as he was reading something on a pack of nuts. He never read anything from the packs, so you found it curious. What were you calling yourselves? He was like that demon who slides from below your bed and you hold its cold paw in the dark, questioning, what are we?

The way he looked at you, it really felt like he has reached the end of his path in searching. You’ve never seen him so calm before. And vice versa, he was the only one who ever made you feel like that. It was a unit. He never once called you his girlfriend, and it was different. You never spoke about it, except that one time on the Canyon when he said he’d marry you. He looked very sure about it, but, knowing him, you didn’t think much of it. It was one of the things you’d do once you get out...

You walked up to Kai, and as he turned to you, about to show you something that got him so interested in a plain pack of nuts, you stabbed him in the side of his body.

Kai gasped gently, like it was more of a kick, and, unsure if you’re applying enough force, you pressed further.

His hand didn’t even get down to stop you. Unlike you, he didn’t even begin fighting you. He shot you a short glance, and there was nothing but curiousity in his eyes. He’s died thousands of times. It was horrible to think about it, but he was used to this kind of pain. You asked yourself why you’re hurting him, of all people, but it was cold math. You had to get even, because that’s what you had both decided. Plus, once the blade was inside of him, you couldn’t stop yourself.

You stabbed him again, as he grabbed on a shelf no try and stay on his feet. The second hit went right into his abdomen, and you wondered at the thickness of his stomach; being an innocent child before, you believed that a human body would be like butter, since a knife is sharp and extremely thin. It turned out to be a bit harder than you expected.

Kai fell down and laid on his back, putting his hands aside. You suddenly realized, with bursting heart, that you were the only one person in any world that he allowed to kill him and didn’t even struggle. It was the ultimate demonstration of trust, better than any kind of I love you. The best thing he could ever do.

You sat on top of him, stabbing him again and again, trying different spots. The side proved to be the most vulnerable, and the chest was the hardest to break through because of the ribcage. When the blade got stuck against the bone, Kai was already dead, and your elbow hurt. No matter how much you climbed and how much heavy stuff you carried here, you weren’t becoming stronger, because one day’s excercise does nothing.

The blood was splattering onto his face and yours, and then you got tired, and horror finally seized you. At some point you stopped being curious, and became enraged for no reason, stabbing him blindly, just because he was good being stabbed.

You stopped, panting, and looked into his white face with his eyes open, turned away, drops of his own blood on his chin. Your hands were red as you touched his open wounds, and your own stomach seemed to have sucked on itself with fear.

Why did I do this? What does he like so much about it?

You knew for sure he’d come back. There was no reason for him not to resurrect. But the irrational nervousness grabbed you. You took his chin and turned his face up, looking at him.

I love you so much, and I don’t know why I did it.

His blood was warm and salty. It went well with bubblegum ice cream.

You had no idea that it was invented SUCH a long time ago. You had no hope to find it in ‘94 and felt like an idiot, but a happy one.

You sat on the floor two steps away from him and stress-devoured ice cream for an hour until he finally woke up.

Kai groaned and attempted to get up, lifting his head and looking at the high ceiling for a moment. He then rolled to his side and lifted himself up on an elbow.

“How did it feel?” he went straight to the point.

“Good at first, but then horrible. I think I went a little overboard. I stabbed you about twenty times”.

“I always knew there was something deeply, fundamentally wrong with you”, he said with tenderness. He got up and crawled up to you, attracted by the sight of the half-empty bucket of ice cream.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore”, you said, and felt lonely for a second. “I didn’t really enjoy neither the first nor the second time”.

“Each to his own, I guess”, Kai shrugged, and opened his mouth. You shoved a spoonful into it.

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #tvd

125 notes · View notes

mollymauk-teafleak · 4 years ago

Text

that thunder in your lungs

A valentines day present for @spiky-lesbian, love you so much, glad you like this! From our Jupeter dads au but a little bit in the future

Also on Ao3 where you can find the other fics featuring their daughter

-----------

Nureyev rarely felt so free as he did on a job.

It was almost giddying, wearing someone else’s face and someone else’s name, knowing that in a few hours he wouldn’t exist and could do anything he liked until then completely free of consequences. The waiting between jobs, the planning, that was the hard part, where he could only be himself- something that had never been an entirely safe haven. When he worked, he was unstoppable.

Or he had been. This time was proving to be very, very different.

Nureyev was dressed to the nines, armoured in makeup and jewels that weren’t his own, wearing a pretty, airy, glittery name and a life to match. His brightly painted nails were filed to points and his fingers had that greedy, confident itch to them, the security in knowing they would soon be holding something that didn’t belong to them. He should be having fun.

But he wasn’t. He carried a knot of anxiety inside him, one that refused to shift even as the plans came together and clicked comfortably into place.

Because across the almost sickeningly fancy party, a stunningly beautiful young woman moved through the crowd, looking devastating in her sharp tuxedo, hair pulled back into twin clouds of curls behind both of her heavily pierced ears. She was turning heads left, right and centre, pulling people’s gazes into her orbit as she sipped champagne and breezed through circles of young socialites like some glittering comet.

Which was not exactly great. Given that she had just as little right to be here as Nureyev did.

He stifled a sigh and made some excuse to the gaggle of people he’d been keeping at the edges of, leaving them to their idle and irritatingly wrong chatter about modern art. He made for the drinks table, meeting the young woman’s eyes and giving her a brief, stern look, giving her little choice but to head that way too.

Once there, he poured himself a tall flute of blue champagne and took a long pull until she appeared, leaning casually near him, enough that they could have an inconspicuous conversation under the lilting music.

“Having fun, daddy?” she hummed softly, eyes shining with innocence, “Your dress is very pretty.”

“I’d be having more fun if you were sticking a little closer to our directive, sweetling,” he muttered with what he thought was rather impressive patience, “...and thank you.”

Bianca tilted her head so the fine threads of gossamer thin gold that she’d weaved into her curls shone, “I don’t know what you mean, daddy. Seems like everything’s going well to me.”

He took a long, slow breath, “Darling, no one whose met you tonight is going to forget your face in a hurry. And seeing as we’re here to steal a necklace off the neck of the host, that isn’t a good thing. We need to be inconspicuous.”

“In that dress? Aw, daddy,” Bianca rolled her eyes in that infuriating way she’d inherited from her mother, like Nureyev had no idea what he was talking about, “I’m only having fun. This is my first proper run out, I’m just looking to enjoy myself. There’s so many pretty girls...”

“As long as it’s not at the expense of your safety, that’s fine,” Nureyev frowned, rolling his eyes and making a show of refilling his glass so the irritated note in his voice would be covered by the trickle of the drink.

“You’re so silly, daddy,” Bianca grinned playfully, “You told me all the time how much fun you had at places like this!”

Nureyev knew she was right and it only made his mouth set tighter, “Just...just be careful. We have to grab the jewels and be gone in another hour.”

“Of course I’ll be careful, daddy,” Bianca stood up straight, her gaze already roving over the crowds, her deep brown eyes lighting up with a mischief he knew all too well, “That’s what you taught me, right?”

And then she was off, she’d caught the eye of a young woman her age who was already smiling in welcoming anticipation. Nureyev was left to fume silently while letting none of it touch his face. He couldn’t decide which of the two of them she was being irritatingly similar to, himself or Juno, but it was raising his blood pressure to unsafe levels. Likely they were both partly to blame.

There was nothing for it then but to make his usual sweeping circles of the party- fortunately these private orbital stations had large, open rooms with few places to conceal nasty surprises- and be as twice as alert as he normally would be.

If you’re this bad now, how on earth are you ever going to let her go out on her own? A voice that sounded like his wife questioned in a voice that wasn’t unkind. Nureyev frowned and let his eyes pass lightly over her again, catching the moment as the latest girl who’d fallen into her orbit touched her hair and complimented it in a way that made his daughter grin dazzlingly.

He wasn’t a fool. He knew his daughter wouldn’t be content to stay with them on the Carte Blanche forever, only pulling jobs with one of her parents or her aunts watching like hawks from the opposite corner. She was too good for it and he was very aware of that, recognising the hunger in her eyes and the sparks of her brilliant mind. One thing Nureyev was certain of, he would nurture her talent and he would be ready to let her go.

It was just so hard.

Looking at her now, he couldn’t help but think of the very first job he’d ever taken her out on. She’d only been a few weeks old, small enough that he could hold her in one hand. Driven to desperation by only having one craft he was truly good at and now needing to feed two people rather than one, he’d strapped her to sling across his chest, made sure her face would always be covered by his own body and planned a very simple heist. It had only been breaking and entering to pilfer the jewellery box of some fabulously rich socialite without the sense to even post a proper guard, it was as easy to him as going to the supermarket would have been for someone else.

But still, Nureyev had been more terrified for that job than he had been to steal his very first apple from a street cart on a Brahman street at just five years old. He’d checked, double checked, triple checked every possible facet of the task and still it hadn’t felt like enough, his heart had been in his mouth every moment of the simple, smooth as silk job.

It had all fallen into sharp relief then, as Nureyev had agonised and fretted over things he’d been certain of how to do since before his twelfth birthday. He wasn’t just one man anymore, with only himself to look out for and worry about. There had been that second heartbeat, just a flicker against his own, stronger one, leaning towards his for support and comfort. There was his daughter.

Nureyev hadn’t run away from the change then and he wouldn't now. He’d gotten very good at accepting it but he didn’t have to like it.

So rather than giving his daughter another stern reminder to stay inconspicuous, he let her have her night. He got himself another glass of champagne and leaned against one wall to watch her sparkle, tasting pride with each sip of her drink. Melancholy too, but he could put that to one side for now, save it for a good, long cry in his wife’s arms when they got back to the ship. All part of being a father, he supposed.

Though time was soon ticking on, it always seemed to go so fast when wrapped in sparkling lights and fine drinks and dancing. Nureyev knew the telling off they’d get if they went back to the Carte Blanche without this necklace, seeing as it had the map to the family’s personal safe engraved in it’s stones. They couldn’t exactly drain the thing if they didn’t know where it was.

Bianca had been dancing with a succession of beautiful young ladies and as soon as she whirled out of the arms of the latest, Nureyev gave her another steady look and inclined his head. She pulled a bit of a face but was back in their same position at the drinks table before too long.

“Do we have to go already?” she murmured in a regretful tone, swirling her glass to watch the glitter dance inside the liquid.

“Go?” Nureyev gave her an uncomprehending look, “We haven’t even done what we came here to do! Would you like to go back to your Auntie Buddy empty handed and tell her you spent the whole party socialising, sweetling?”

His daughter gave him another smug smile and this time he knew it was all his traitorous genes at work, “Oh sorry, I tried to be obvious. Check your pockets, daddy.”

Nureyev did, as subtle as he could be, sinking his hand into the pockets of his sleek figure hugging dress and finding cold, square cut stones. He didn’t need to bring them out to know it was exactly the necklace they were here to acquire.

“I...how…” he could only stand and blink, not really caring how idiotic he looked.

Bianca grinned, clearly delighted with herself, “Careful, daddy, you’re being rather conspicuous.”

He quickly rearranged his face into indifference, though his daughter clearly knew him well enough to read the mix of shock, awe and incredulousness in his posture and keep grinning into her drink.

“Well. In that case, yes, we really do need to make a sharp exit. Any goodbyes you’d like to make before we do that?”

“Oh, I got all their numbers, don’t worry. Shuttle in five minutes?”

She didn’t wait for his reply, sauntering off into the crowd.

The trip back to the ship was a quick one, the Carte Blanche hovered behind one of Jupiter’s moons just a little ways away from the private station, happily cloaked in one of Rita’s shields. Bianca sat in the passenger seat, looking a little shamefaced now she was out of the music and the glitter, like she expected a telling off.

Instead, Nureyev waited until they’d passed out of any possible signal range the station might have and turned to her, reaching over and tucking a curl of hair behind her ear.

“You did very well tonight, darling,” he smiled, “I’m proud of you.”

“Yeah?” Bianca’s whole face illuminated, her smile returning.

“Of course. You did magnificently. And…” he cleared his throat and swallowed, “If I seemed a little...hard on you, I apologise. I suppose it’s hard for me not to worry about you. Please don’t take it as me thinking less of your skills, I just…”

“I get it, daddy,” Bianca’s voice softened and she leaned into his hand, “It’s okay.”

“Yes,” Nureyev smiled tiredly and nodded gratefully, “And whenever you choose to go out on your own, you will be amazing. I know you will.”

Bianca’s cheeks darkened and she smiled coyly, “I mean...I’m not in any rush, right? There’s still a lot I need to learn. Mama still says my aim needs work sometimes and Auntie Rita’s only just started showing me how to take down firewalls and Auntie Vespa said she’d teach me how to set a bone…”

“Of course,” Nureyev couldn’t help but feel a wash of relief as he leaned over and kissed her forehead, “Of course, my darling.”

But the day would come. And Nureyev would be ready, as ready as he had been to turn his life upside down and inside out for the tiny baby she used to be.

He could never stop worrying about his Bianca. But he would never stop being proud of her either.

#jupeter #dads au #peter nureyev #bianca nureyev #fluff #love you baby <3

15 notes · View notes

ranmanjuu · 5 years ago

Note

Me again sorry if I’m spamming can request how the boys react to going to the future with mc be everywhere’s in lockdown thank you and stay safe love you~ (๑ゝω╹๑)

there’s probably a shit ton of them hcs around these parts and i feel like i’m just re-wording a lot of things so like,, ahaha i’m sorry. also the character cast is u-t forces cause ngl we have a lot of oda forces request previously and the coming requests dw just showing love to my kasugayama boys

—shingen:

the moment you stepped into the good ol’ modern times, the first thing you realized was that there’s a pandemic going on and with shingen being immunocompromised, it’s surely a danger more than ever. without a word, you quickly drag him into your apartment first thing’s first.

you quickly told him to take a shower (to which he’d probably jokingly invite you in, but to be fair, he doesn’t really know how bathtubs and shower heads are used). you didn’t have men’s clothing, not for his size so to say, so you just settled with your big, stretchy jackets you had.

after explaining the situation, you did consider going to the hospital for his treatment,, on one hand, if shingen doesn’t do it, he’ll. . .you know. and if he does, there’s a chance that he could get infected (with hospitals being a breeding ground for the virus).

in the end, you decided to do it.

even after that, you were always careful with things like going out, mostly you taking care of the shopping and everything. you kept reminding him to wash his hands, social distance, etc.

and frankly, while he understands social distancing, he doesn’t like it. he just wants to hug and kiss his deity lover! prepare for the man to just recite poems so damn dramatically for this.

(^ this includes the amount of pickup lines increasing by a lot. the fact that he can now search some up from google doesn’t help.)

there’s a lot of things you do in quarantine, and you’ve found that the amount of carpentry has increased significantly prior to this.

said carpentry ranges from tables and chairs, to small decoration carvings of birds and the likes. the smell of wood now wafts in the air more than ever.

you’ve now replaced yukimura for his dieting of sweets. his illness may be gone, but teeth problems could still arise! but shingen can have some modern candy once in a while, as a treat.

as for the reaction of the future in general—shingen finds it so, so warming how relatively peaceful it is compared to the sengoku. yes, protests are happening and there’s practically a new type of war going on (he most certainly advocates for human rights, etc), but it’s a step to a new light. a world he wants.

—kenshin:

you’ve had conversations of the future before—most of them on a,,, bizzare note, with the topic being on swords and war (or lack thereof), etc. a silent agreement was made between you two to not have kenshin be in the future since he’s missing one of the things he ‘needs to live with’ (them being war, sake, and you).

but a lot of improv had to be done when the wormhole was much more stubborn and managed to pull you through.

right after you figured out what happened, a security guard immediately came and told you to wear a mask (considering it’s a must). you had to haul kenshin back to your house before he attacks the guard with his sword.

after cleaning the two of you from any virus, you began running things over to him about the future. aaaand he’s already thinking about keeping you in your house by any means so you don’t get caught by it.

but you managed to convince him otherwise, you did have to go shopping and the thought of kenshin doing it with all the foreign technology around him made you sweat nervously.

no, kenshin, sake isn’t a need but you will buy it for him cause he won’t be able to survive, you feel.

you thought a peaceful modern world was bad enough for kenshin to reside in, ohoho, wait until you realize he can’t even go outside and fight sasuke and all that jazz.

a thought crossed your mind to learn how to duel and fight using mop sticks but he shot down that thought.

in the meantime, most of your days were spent in the garden with his sea of bunnies (how they got there, you don’t know) and mostly tending to them so they don’t contract the virus (kenshin almost flipped when you told him that rabbits could do that).

and by night, you spent it by looking out to the city skies (but the light from the buildings doesn’t hit like the stars do) and drinking sake.

he’d also be against social distancing, but—unsurprisingly—only to you. after a while that rule goes out the window as he cuddles you to death from being touch-starved.

i feel like he’d be interested in the past (or future, to him) wars just because. he’d read up about the wars from all sorts of places. and sometimes, you’d catch him with a deadly smile and say, “that sounds like a great idea, i should wage one like that.”

you had to remind him no, you can’t start a war cause you want to.

—yukimura:

he’d flip straight up by the idea of there being a pandemic in your time. you never talked about this when you told him you came from the future!

he’d probably groan at first with the thought of having to hole up for a long time, but he’d quickly understand. it’s for the benefit of the immunocompromised and the old, he’d like to help by following the rules.

besides, he has you. he’ll cope.

at first, his plan was for you to just let him do all the work during lockdown, like going out and stuff. he was non-chalant, if a bit stubborn.

until you mention groceries.

you start firing him questions, do you know what we need? do you know how much of it we need? or which one is which at all?

he shuts up after that.

yukimura will definitely do those workout things on youtube, and you’ll probably be roped into it. rip to you but you’re gettin’ buff during these lazy times.

small, silly arguments would most likely be the norm for you. it’s a bit of spicy bickering back and forth, you both find it amusing and it’s a way to stimulate the brain, no matter how stupid the topic is.

it can range from if mugwort mochi is better than chestnut dumplings, and you’ve even gone out to search for light topics to have small debates over.

occasionally, he’d invite you outside to watch the skies. the colorful lights from the tall buildings kind of reminds you of the loud fireworks during the festival back in the sengoku—only if they became stars instead.

much like shingen, yukimura is thankful of the positive changes in the future. horrible things may have stayed, but as long as there are people advocating for a fair and peaceful world, he can spend his days beside you.

—sasuke:

as any situation, sasuke was prepared as ever. the second you went to the modern days, he pulled out a spare mask (dw it’s clean) from his pocket and handed it to you. remembering the rule of mandatory masks, you quickly put it on.

you couldn’t really have a discussion about time-travel in the open, so you both went to your apartment.

sasuke is definitely well-versed in the virus, dumping most everything he knows unto you to better arm you with it yourself.

somehow, he could calculate how much groceries and overall shopping in any timeframe. a month, two, etc. so you find yourself bringing him out shopping with you.

since he’s now in the modern world, the amount of him being holed up kinda increases. if he’s learnt so much from a youtube tutorial, imagine the absolute machine he’d be by the end of it.

yeah he’s that guy who learns 45 million skills.

sasuke might seem unbothered by having to keep distance from you, but he really isn’t. you can tell; by the way his lips tighten, or the way his eyebrows furrow sometimes.

would regularly remind you to wash your hands, and would always say to take a bath each time you go home from the outside. if you’re ever sick, he’ll somehow have the perfect medicine ready.

you binge watch shows all the time, it’s another form of bonding cause you two already know about them. you’d spend nights on the couch with a blanket and snacks, discussing about things ranging from theories to crack cotent.

you really wouldn’t trade it for the world.

—yoshimoto:

honestly, yoshimoto isn’t even much interested in the future. mostly just how far art’s gotten (and trust me, it’s gotten so far). such is the situation when the wormhole caught you two.

he probably got sidetracked from the first art he could see (probably street art in this scenario) after you barely identified you went to the future.

again you must haul this pretty man after being told off by a security guard for not wearing a mask.

your biggest problem is probably his massive fascination with modern art. endless hours were used to have a talk that, no, he can’t go to an exhibit right now.

so you improvise.

you gave him a hand-me-down phone, or just share a laptop, and teach him the concept of digital art, along with how to operate certain social medias so he can browse around.

downside is he is currently—and unknowingly— planning to get you broke by commissioning artists. also he may or may not’ve been doing posting questionable things on his accounts (you really shouldn’t’ve given him one,,)

and so to fix the problem created to solve a problem, you decided to take it into your own hands.

popping out all the drawing supplies you’ve ever had, you began to doodle anything and everything, every day. and each one, you’d show it off to yoshimoto like a child to their parent.

and each time, he still looks at them so lovingly, no matter if it could hypothetically be classified as chicken scratches. as long as you make it, in his mind, it’ll be something worth cherished for.

but your strong suit has always been stitching, so you start a lot of projects of art on clothing. it counts as the one above.

oh—you know those pretty cloth masks? you now have about 100 of these at least, courtesy to yoshimoto.

74 notes · View notes

bangtan-madi · 5 years ago

Text

All Of Our Lifetimes — Three: Samothrace

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.5k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories?

Part — 3 / 15

Warnings — language, mentions of murder (no description)

Previous — Next

On your way to breakfast the next morning, you get the call from Director Hyeon. What she tells you in the next few seconds nearly causes you to drop your phone and shout for joy, right in the middle of the sidewalk.

"We're offering you the job, [Y/n]. You're the most qualified and capable, by far. Everyone in the leadership has agreed that we can trust our boys to you. If you're interested...the position is yours."

Without giving your lungs a second to catch up with your erratic, excited breathing, you're exclaiming a vibrant, "Yes! Yes, I am very interested."

The details are finalized over the following week, which gives you just enough time to fly back home and pack up your belongings to ship overseas. Milo is a huge help, despite the fact that she's so jealous. While she has several interviews scheduled via telephone or Skype over the next few weeks, it will be a month or possibly more before she will join you in Seoul.

"I'm so jealous!" she tells you over and over. "So happy for you...but damn! I'm the one in the BTS army over here!"

"I'll see if I can snag you an autograph or something," you reply, half-joking.

Milo looks at you like you hold the world in your hands. "I would fucking marry you if you did."

"You'd marry me anyway."

At that, Milo merely flashes a wink and giggles to herself.

After your clothes and transportable belongings are packed and shipped overseas to your new apartment, the two of you drive to the airport in unusual silence, only a few items in your overhead luggage. It's not uncomfortable, but along the way, you both realize that this will be the last time you'll see each other for at least a month.

Milo has been your best friend since middle school, and you've lived together since college. To be without her for that long, after all you've been through together, it's hitting you hard as the airport draws near. You reach for her hand over the armrest, lacing your fingers through hers.

"You're not gonna go run off and find some boy that keeps you in America, right?" you ask in a semi-joking tone.

Milo tilts her head as she stares at you from the passenger's side. "Only if you don't find a cute K-pop boy to fall in love with and forget all about me."

You make a faux gagging sound, drawing a smirk from your best friend. "Not a chance."

"Then don't test me, [Y/n]. I'll get a job and be with you in Seoul before we know it. A month isn't too long, and then we can be roomies again!"

Your hand tightens as you flash a genuine smile. "Wouldn't change it for the world."

You remain attached to each other until you get to the security check-in. Turning to Milo, you pull her into a tight embrace, one that she whole-heartedly returns.

"Don't make me wait too long, okay?"

"'Course not," she chimes back, trying to keep her voice it's usual happy-go-lucky. "We're Siamese twins, you and me. Not gonna separate us!"

You say your temporary goodbyes—the only reason you don't break down being that you constantly remind yourself that it is only temporary—and depart for the security line. Passport in one hand, the other waving back to Milo, you hold tight to the shred of the past while running headfirst into your future.

One thing is for certain: things are going to change.

The first few days as a permanent resident of Seoul are spent settling into your new job and new apartment. And, as per usual in a major life change, there are things that go wrong that you couldn't have anticipated. You get lost on your way to work on your first day and end up being a few minutes late, one of your packages of clothing has not shown up yet despite everything else has arrived, and the office space at Big Hit evidently used to be occupied by someone who never cleared out their shitstorm of a file cabinet.

Needless to say, by the time the weekend arrives, you want to do nothing more than relax and recuperate and do something other than stare between two monitors. If you have to translate another word from Hangul into the English alphabet, you're going to chuck something out the window.

But, understandably, your apartment isn't in the best shape. Boxes are half-way unpacked, and plenty of furniture still needs to be bought. What has been unpacked is haphazardly tosses on any clean surface you can find. It's not exactly a den of peace and serenity, and probably not the ideal place to relax.

So, after doing some online shopping for said furniture and organizing as best you can, you decide to take the rest of the Saturday afternoon and do something you genuinely want to do. An idea pops into your head, and you grab your coat from the counter as you head for the door.

You never finished your tour of the Seoul Museum of Art, knowing for a fact that you haven't gotten to the architecture wing or portrait gallery. You feel your heart longing to go back and explore the remaining spots of the building, knowing in your soul that you need to be there.

What better time than the present?

You find your way easily, enjoying the brisk air that catches your skin and under your coat. The seasons are changing, shades of winter like white and grey settling into post-New Year's hues of mocha and beige. The city smells like green tea and feels like an ever-changing living organism.

Something tells you that more than just the seasons will be changing this year.

Enter the museum, you find your way back towards the gallery where you left off. After the conversation with the stranger from yesterday, you were a bit too weirded out to really enjoy any of the other exhibits. Wandering for another hour, you hardly remember any of it. The story he told, the bloody fingerprint at the corner of "Vase with Honesty," it was all a bit too eerie for your liking.

But something in the back of your mind keeps prodding at you, and you desperately wish who that man was so that you could ask him more questions. How did he know about the murder? Why was he as drawn to the painting as you were? Why did he leave so abruptly?

All these questions circulate your mind as you round the corner, passing by the Van Gogh exhibit to your right. Just as you pass out of the entrance, you stop mid-step and turn on your heel, peaking back into the open space.

Standing in front of "Vase with Honesty," the stranger from yesterday wears the beige hoodie and a white facemask. You might've missed him if it weren't for the way his eyes followed you from the entrance to the exit of the temporary exhibit, dark eyes dusted by curly hair. You think it unusual to recognize a stranger just from a few minutes of interaction, but your life has been anything but usual the past two weeks.

Instead, you offer a tiny smile and wave, stepping out of the arched entrance and towards the man. "Hi...again."

His eyes avert yours, shifting to the wall behind you, the paintings, the ceiling. Anywhere but at you. "Hi."

"Seems like we keep running into each other, hm?" you offer in a friendly tone. "Come back to see 'Vase with Honesty'?"

The stranger nods. "I'm a...big fan. Van Gogh's art is comforting. I've never known why."

His confession causes a genuine smile to spread across your face. "That's what art's for, silly. Van Gogh was a tortured soul, but I think he'd be happy to know that his life's work gives comfort to people, even..." You glance at the description card in front of the piece, searching for the date. "Even 136 years later."

His brown eyes flicker to yours again for a brief moment, and it's long enough for you to nod your head towards the expansive hallway. "Wanna walk with me? I got a few rooms in the museum yesterday, but not much more than that. Always nice to explore with others, don't you think?"

The shy man nods once and joins your side as you turn towards the interior, keeping a couple of feet between you.

As you make your way to other wings, you and the stranger make small talk to pass the time. Well, you do most of the talking. You're not sure if this person doesn't trust you or if he's just catatonically shy, but he's refused to lower his hood or raise his head enough for you to get a good look at his face. His features are still obscured by his clothing and hair, but his voice is soothing the few times he does reply. His presence is calming. Something about the man puts you instantly at ease, and you find yourself being more friendly than you might be to any other stranger.

"Is Korean your first language?" he inquires, as you step into the empty room full of 20th-century modern art.

You shake your head, a slightly embarrassed heat rising in your cheeks. "That obvious, huh? I mean, I know I don't look Korean, but I was hoping I was passing all right."

He stops in front of a work by Georgia O'Keefe. "Not that obvious. I just heard a bit of an American lilt in a few of your words just now. You're very good."

"Oh...then, thanks."

"Why are you in Seoul, then? Visiting?"

"Working," you respond, moving to the other side of the room to view the other works of modern art. "I got a job in Yongsan. I just started this week."

The stranger's head perks up at your response, turning his face slightly towards yours. "How's that going?"

You shrug, making a non-committal noise. "I mean, it's a great job, don't get me wrong. It's just a lot. I moved away from America, from my long-time best friend and roommate, from everything I'd ever known for this job. And it's been a long first week full of things I didn't realize I was going to have to handle."

You shove your hands into your jacket pockets as the two of you turn to leave the room, enter back into the stark white hallway, and turn towards the next expansive opening.

"I shouldn't be complaining," you laugh. "The job is so much more than I could ask for, and I haven't even met a few of the people I'm supposed to work with. One of which I know I have a ton of questions for..." You shake your head. "I've have had this...let's call it a gut feeling, for a long time now. Go to Seoul. Go to South Korea. I knew my fate would bring me here one day, just didn't realize life would be so..."

"Hard?"

You turn towards your companion with an understanding sigh. "Yeah, hard."

A few moments of silence pass, and just as you're about to ask him about the bloody fingerprint and how he knew about the artist being murdered, you feel a chill run down your spine at the sight of the object in the room to your left. Not a chill from the cold or from nerves, this is a chill of familiarity. You turn your head slowly towards the object of your subconscious horror.

"Winged Victory of Samothrace," or a copy of the one in the Louve, stands high and mighty, the lone object in the fluorescent-lit room.

"What is it?" the stranger asks, voice low and muffled by his mask.

You stare at the statue, unmoving for a full thirty seconds. "I—Does that statue look familiar to you at all?"

There's hesitation in his response, though you can't see his face. "I—I've seen it in Paris. That must be it."

You shake your head, clenching your trembling fists at your sides. "I've never been to Paris. I've never seen it before, not in person."

The stranger reaches out towards you, asking, "Are you okay? You're trembling."

In an attempt to clear your head, you drag your gaze away from Winged Victory and turn back towards the hallway. Visions from your nightmare force their way into your mind, but you shove them out, trying your hardest to keep them at bay as you walk ahead of your confused companion.

"Just a coincidence," you whisper to yourself. "Just a coin—"

Your sentence falls flat as you raise your gaze from the marble floors to the open space ahead. The chill returns, and your knees feel even weaker than before.

Pillars stretch up, cradling a spectacular glass ceiling, surrounding a spherical water fountain.

Your heartbeat races, and your throat closes up. The door you'd tried to lock in your brain crashes open, releasing all the terrible things your brain keeps replaying over and over and over. Doesn't matter if it's day or night, these visions never end.

An artist murdered. Two lovers on the run. A mad-man with a thirst for blood.

And the death of you both in that very water fountain.

You stumble back, bumping into the stranger as you do. His eyes are wide and locked on the fountain, but you're too panicked to stop and investigate further. Every fiber of your being is telling you to run. To run as fast and as far as you can.

Without explanation and without fail, you let your fear take you the mile's distance from that spherical fountain to the nearest metro station.

If you could physically go any faster or longer, you're sure in your heart that you would still be running.

84 notes · View notes

marmolady · 4 years ago

Text

Growing Pains: Part Three

PART ONE PART TWO

Main Pairings: Estela x MC/Taylor (f)

Summary: Post-ending. For Liv and her mothers, Taylor and Estela, a turbulent period of transition is afoot. Set primarily in the distant future of 2033.

Word Count: 5678

More Liv fics here: Livita, Teething Problems, Milestones and Memories, Mutual Comfort, All That Matters

Reviews and reblogs are hugely appreciated!

Tagging: @brightpinkpeppercorn, @mrsmontoya, @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @quinnkellys-wife, @greengroove

La Huerta, 2033

The sun slowly began to set, and a cool breeze came in from the sea. The reunion was in full swing, and Taylor, had found her way poolside, the traditional centre of all activity. The energy all around her was wonderfully refreshing after all the time she’d spent hiding herself away from the world; the sounds of the most familiar of voices as her friends caught up with one another, therapeutic. She was far too much of an extrovert to isolate herself; she knew that now.

Sitting down at the bar, it only took a few skilled flourishes of bottles before Raj was handing her a signature drink.

“It’s been a little while since I’ve had one of these,” she laughed. The joys of pregnancy. Worth it, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t a little relieved it was all over in time for the reunion. “Mm, that’s fruity! And just the right amount of kick to it. I say this every year, but you really do know me.”

“Another happy customer at the BhandarBar? You know there’s nothing I’d rather hear!” Raj beamed. He came around the bar and sat beside Taylor, sensing a need in her. “I feel like we haven’t hung out in ages-- last time I saw you, you had a baby on board. How has life been treating you, Taylor, my friend?”

“Oh, you know. My whole body gearing up for looking after baby, and then trying to tell it ‘no, that’s not what’s happening, here’; that’s been a bit of a challenge. My mood swings have been epic. I know she already did deserve one, but christ, Estela deserves a medal. Liv as well. I swear I’ve been like a walking hormone or something.”

“Well, if you need someone to lay it all on….”

He didn’t even get to finish. Taylor had her arms around him, hugging him tight. Where the tears were coming from now, she didn’t quite know. Maybe it was just a release of everything she’d been carrying these past months. But come they did, thick and fast.

“That’s it, bro. Let it all out. I’ve got plenty of shirts if you get boogers on this one--”

Taylor spluttered, laughing until she made herself choke and cough. “I don’t even know why I’m crying! That’s just me right now. A little bit useless.” Well, if you talk like that, you’re gonna be sobbing all night.

“You? Never. We have witnesses! You are definitely not useless. You just need a bit of Taylor Time right now. You’re allowed to take some Taylor Time.”

“For how long?” Taylor sighed. “Liv’s only nine-- sorry, nine and three-hundred-and-sixty-four days. That distinction is important to her. But she needs me. My body’s all geared up to be a mom, but with Liv I feel like I just can’t do anything. Some days I couldn’t even get out of bed.”

“Trust me. I’ve had those days. You know I’ve had those days. And listening when your mind and body need a rest isn’t a bad thing. If Liv was feeling the way you were, what would you have her do?”

Taylor pouted. “Who told you you could use my double standards to pep talk me? Fine! I’d tell her to be kind to herself. Every time.”

“So. What are you going to do?”

“Be… kind to myself,” Taylor said begrudgingly. Damn you, Raj. I can’t argue with that logic.

“We’re going to home-school Livi. For a year, use that time to reassess where we want to be in life. I’m a little nervous, but… I like that I’m going to be more proactive in her life. I’m glad I had Michael; having him was one of the best things I’ve ever done, but I want to be able to put my energy into Liv, and Estela, our little unit. Mostly, I’m excited. I am so, so ready to feel like a mom again.”

“Aw, Taylor-baby, you always were. But I getcha, sometimes you kind of lose a part of yourself in all that life throws up. And whatever life wants to throw at Liv, you guys got her back. She’s done all right for herself with you two.”

Exhaling, wiping away those stupid tears-- hadn’t she cried enough?-- Taylor nestled into a warm hug. Raj was a talented man, but no more so than in his ability to make everything feel all right. Together, her family had weathered many storms, and their bond would carry them through any still to come.

_____________________________

La Huerta, 2027

A resounding crack of lightning had Liv dive under the blankets, shaking in her Batman pyjamas. To her, it felt as though the storm had been raging for hours. Never had she heard the sky sound so angry. She burrowed under her Mama Estela’s arm.

“Mommy, it’s so loud,” she whimpered.

“I know, mija,” Estela said gently, stroking her four-year-old daughter’s hair. “But it can’t hurt us in here. Our house is strong and safe.”

The creaking of wood in the wind made Liv nervous. If the house was safe, why did it have to complain so much? Was it trying to scare her?

“It’s okay, Livi-sweetie,” Taylor soothed. “We’re all gonna sit this one out together.”

The family trio were sharing the big queen-size bed, Liv tucked up snuggly between her two mothers. There had been no talk of attempting to settle Liv in her own room; she was distressed, and that meant she could take security in the maternal bed.

As the howling wind became a frightening roar, Liv whined softly. At the foot of the bed, the little dog, Fenix, was sleeping soundly. Fenix didn’t have the best of hearing, which on this occasion struck Liv as quite lucky. The cat, Madam Mierdita, seemed more grumpy at the disturbance than frightened, growling and changing colours with every scary rumble.

“Hey, Liv,” Taylor said cheerily, hoping her easy tone would lessen the tension, “Knock, knock!”

Liv peered over the covers. Was now really the time? She’d humour her silly Mama Taylor. “Who’s there?”

“Europe.”

“Europe, who?” Liv asked, then her eyes went wide and she gave a shout of laughter. “Ha! You’re a poo, Mama Taylor!”

“No, you’re a poo!” Taylor chuckled. Saved, once again, by some good old fashioned toilet humour.

Estela rolled her eyes and shook her head exaggeratedly. “Oh, cariňa, you blow me away with your comedic wit.”

“Yeah!” Liv affirmed enthusiastically, apparently still oblivious to the art of sarcasm. “It was super funny!” She flinched at another crash of lightning, but didn’t hide under the covers.

“Well, my fan club, here comes another one!” Taylor smirked at Estela’s dramatic groaning. If it eased Liv’s fear, they could and would do this for hours. “Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?”

“I dunno, Mommy. W-why?” Liv asked, her voice wavering as a rumble of thunder seemed to shake the very earth. But if the world was ending, it would surely wait to hear the rest of Mama Taylor’s joke first.

“To get to the bottom!”

On queue, Liv squealed with laughter. “You said ‘bottom’!”

“You know, Taylor, I’m sensing a theme here.”

“Hey-- toilet jokes aren’t my favourite, but they’re a solid number two!”

“Dios mío! Why do I feel like I’m in for a long night?” Estela reached to tickle Taylor’s belly, which served to push Liv ever deeper into her giggle fit. She could never adequately express just how grateful she was that their daughter had that gorgeous dork to see her through the scary times. Don’t you ever change, mi amor.

The storm raged on. Cocooned together in their humble sanctuary, the small family saw it out-- or at least, Taylor and Estela did. Liv nodded off amid the thunder and the lightning, the wind and the rain… safe in her mothers’ arms.

_______________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Livi-- be careful!”

“I am careful!” Liv hollered down from a towering palm tree. She had everything under contro--

There was a thud, and the squeak of breath being forced from Liv’s lungs as she hit the ground hard.

“Ow.”

Taylor rushed over, but her view was quickly blocked by young Isla, who had gotten there first.

“Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not hurt, Isla. See?”

“Did you hit your head?”

“No.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Can you move all your arms and legs?”

“Yes!”

“On a scale of one to ten--”

Taylor cut in, feeling simultaneously relieved and incredibly fond of her friends’ little nurse in training. “Thanks, Isla, sweetheart. I think we’re good from here. Right?”

Liv scowled and jumped to her feet as if nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Mom.”

“Oh, Livita, foiled again by your old friend, gravity?” Estela laughed from her comfortable spot on the beach. She’d seen Liv through enough bumps and scrapes to know when there was nothing to worry about.

Taylor snorted, and ruffled Liv’s short hair. “Gravity’s a bitch. Try and respect her in the future, okay?”

Gravity wasn’t just a bitch. Gravity was Liv’s nemesis. A literal pain in her ass. Someday, Liv had decided, she was going to get a pilot licence like her Uncle Jake. That would teach bloody gravity.

A yell distracted Liv from her plotting.

“Hey, Livia! Livia!” Reggie hollered as he pelted up the beach. “The big tortoise came back! Diego said we can feed him! Quick!”

That got her attention. The past two years, the mighty Shore Guardian had lumbered into their midst during the reunion, and it had been an incredible thrill. In an instant, she was off and running.

“Liv, when I say to be careful…,” Taylor started.

“I know!” she called over her shoulder, “ Actually be careful. But you know I’m not scared of some old Shore Guardian, right?”

The tortoise was colossal. Built like a tank; the peak of his pyramid-like shell reached the height of a man. It had come as an immense relief to everyone when the creature started appearing on La Huerta’s shores, that he was of a docile and placid disposition.

“Helloooo there, Shelly!” Liv called, clambering up and over the rocks, a bunch of glowing flowers in her hand. “I brought you a snack.”

“See,” Diego said from his perch, overlooking the beast, “I told you he’d come back. He’s pretty smart. He must know that the reunion happens every year, and that the reunion means kids bearing flowers. I think you’ve started something, though-- the Vaanti kids are all over this guy when he hangs near Elyys’tel.”

“He’s less scary than the yeti-bear. I like the yeti-bear, but Mom and Mom say I’m still too young to give her a pat. Do you think I should make friends with the Sea Guardian next?”

The Sea Guardian was rarely observed. It was something like a plesiosaur with scales all the colours of the rainbow, and even after more than a decade since Cetus’ demise, it seemed as though the monster was only gettng larger. Sighting the beast was something of a badge of honour for young Vaanti, with the bolder among them daring to touch its back-- some even managing to take loose scales when the beast was shedding. There had only been a few serious injuries over the years, but the practice was largely frowned upon-- especially by those old enough to remember Cetus’ wrath. If there was one thing everyone agreed upon, it was that they did not want another Cetus.

Diego chuckled nervously. “Better stick to old Shelly. He appreciates your friendship.”

“Yeah, Livia, you should look after the friendships you’ve got,” Reggie said, huffing and puffing as he came over the ledge. “It’s not like you’ve got many.”

“Hey!”

“Was I insensitive again?” he asked sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“A little,” Diego said. “Why don’t you come closer and feed Shelly with Liv?”

Reggie eyed the hulking beast. “No… no, I’m fine just watching. A good scientist never interferes with wildlife. You know Jane Goodall used to feed chimps bananas? But that was like… years and years ago. Now we know that is not the best way to science.”

“Whatever, Reggie,” Liv laughed, “but don’t cry to me when I’m Shelly’s best friend.”

Down on the sand, Liv could feel the enormous presence of the giant tortoise as he towered over her, sniffing.

“Good boy, Shelly. You wanna flower?”

Diego watched her, ready to swoop down and pull her to safety if the beast appeared bothered. “Good job, Livi. Nice and slow so you don’t freak him out. Like… like you’re Hiccup and he’s Toothless.”

Liv chuckled, and peered into Shelly’s mouth as it gaped open to take a flower. “I think he is toothless.”

“Yeah, but I bet his hard mouth could break all the bones in your hand!” Reggie piped up.

“Shelly would never,” Diego assured. “He knows better than to bite the hand that feeds him.”

The tortoise gave a rumbling grumble of pleasure as he swallowed a flower.

“How have you guys been recently?” Diego probed, keeping it light, but knowing that life had recently been a rough ride for the kids. “I heard Maia moved schools; that kind of sucks. She was pretty great.”

She was pretty pretty, Liv thought, though she kept that to herself. “I’ve been really sad and lonely. But it’s all better now-- we’re all back here! No mean dumbasses. I wish Maia didn’t have to leave though.”

“I decided I don’t like getting in fights,” Reggie said. “I am now officially a pacifist. But… I guess I’ve gotta make exceptions if people are gonna say stuff about my sisters. They’re only little. They can’t stand up for themselves.”

“Better stick to fighting with your words, Reggie,” Liv said with a little smirk. “I have never seen such a weak-ass punch in my life….”

“Hey, I did pretty good!”

“If I hadn’t jumped in, they’d still be mopping you off the floor now,” she laughed.

“Well, maybe I’m better at more important things, like actually using my brain! You should try it sometime.”

“Okay, okay,” Diego intervened. “Easy, kids! You don’t want to freak old Toothless out.”

Liv looked up at Shelly. He was calmly chewing on the last flower she’d offered him, not batting an eyelid at the raised voices.

“Tio Diego,” she murmured. “Can I tell you something? And Reggie-- you can know too.”

“Of course, you can, Liv.”

“Well… it’s kinda… embarrassing. But I know you won’t laugh. Not when it’s important. I like liked Maia. I thought everyone would laugh at me if they found out I had a crush on a girl. I know it’s not something to be ashamed of, but I was still… too scared.”

“You’re telling us now-- that takes a lot of guts,” Diego told her. “It is scary. You never know how people are going to react. Most people are pretty cool these days, but it only takes one mean person to make you feel sad and small.”

Liv climbed back up onto the rocks to sit by her uncle’s side. “Yeah. Some of the kids already teased me about my moms. I thought there would probably be at least one mean person.”

“That’s fair,” Reggie concluded. “I mean, you’re probably right. If they were jerks about Erin, probably they wouldn’t be any nicer to you. They already think you’re kinda weird.”

Diego put an arm around his niece, and she leaned close. After all these years, he could always tell when she needed a hug. “Coming out and showing yourself to the world should always be on your terms. If you didn’t feel ready, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. It means a lot that you feel comfortable enough to share with me.”

“Of course! You’re my tio. I can tell you anything. Even the things that are just silly and annoying… you listen anyway.” Liv sighed, and threw down her last flower to the great, lumbering tortoise, who scarfed it down eagerly. “I’m sad that Maia is gone. I thought eventually I’d be brave enough. I can be brave with stuff like protecting people who need help, but feelings are harder.”

“Feelings can be the absolute hardest. But we’re on your side, whenever you’re ready to share them. Me and Varyyn, and Reggie, and your moms. Your moms are so proud of you, you know? Being sensitive and caring can be tough, but those feelings are what make you strong. Your Mama Taylor told me you’ve been helping her get up every day when she’s been feeling really down. You make a difference-- a good one. You don’t have to be brave enough for everything all at once.”

“Thanks, Tio. You’re smart. No wonder you wrote like, two whole books. All teachers should be as nice as you.”

“Well, I do my best. And in the end, that’s all you really can do. Do you remember from Cinderella? ‘Have courage, and be kind.’ I’d say you’re both pretty good at that already.”

______________________________

La Huerta, 2031

Seven-year-old Liv reached out her hands to a stricken bird as it flailed in distress. The sound of it being slammed against the window of the house by a larger, more aggressive foe had made her all but jump out of her skin, but if something might be hurt, she had to get over her fright quickly and help.

“Hello birdie…,”she cooed. Her fingers gently stroked the feathers on its back. It stopped flapping, but its breathing was laboured, as if it was struggling for air. Blood had risen from its eyes and nose. “It’s okay… I’m a friend.”

Gently, Liv scooped the wounded animal into her hands and cradled it, crouching over the grass in front of her home.

“Tio Diego! Varyyn! I need help!”

Of course, her uncles came running. They were never far away when tasked with keeping an eye on her; by now they were too well aware of her propensity for wandering into mischief not to be.

“Livita, are you okay--”

“Tio, she’s hurt. I think she’s gonna die. This great big bird got her and hit her against the window.”

Diego was pretty sure Liv had heard the talk about not touching wild animals, especially if they were injured and likely to lash out, but the reminder could wait. One look at the bird told him it was not long for this world.

“She is dying,” Varyyn confirmed, sadly. He exchanged a look with Diego. “It’s very sad… but we must make sure she doesn’t suffer.”

Liv sniffed. It wasn’t fair. This little bird used to hang around their home, foraging in the garden Mama Taylor had grown. They liked hearing her singing and calling to the other birds.

Varyyn squeezed Liv’s shoulder. “We’ll give her a minute to see if she fades away on her own. Do you trust us to do what’s kind for your friend?”

“Yeah… but I don’t want to leave her. I think she’s less scared with me holding her.”

Diego put an arm around Liv. “That’s good. You’re making her feel safe. Everyone deserves that. Just keep talking to her, okay? Hopefully, she’ll go peacefully.”

“It’s okay, birdie,” Liv whispered. “You’re not alone now. You can go to sleep.”

The bird gave a few more rattling breaths, then was still.

“Tio Diego… I think she’s died.”

“Yes, she’s gone, mija. You did amazing.”

Liv wept, held by her uncles.

“Death is always hard,” Varyyn said gently, “even when it’s kind. You always feel the hole where there was once a life.”

“S-she shouldn’t have died! She wasn’t hurting anyone… o-or doing anything wrong… she was just in that other bird’s way.”

“I know. It sad, and it’s not fair at all. But you made her last moments so much better; that counts for a lot. Everyone dies sometime… all you can hope for is that you go feeling loved, and you made that happen. It’s like… the circle of life. Nature can be really cruel, but that doesn’t take away the good bits. This little bird probably helped lots of plants spread their seeds.”

“Yes. Even if your friend’s life was short; it had great value.”

Liv raised her head, eyes wide. “Her body becomes the grass, right? Like Mufasa said? She’s got to at least get to be part of the circle of life if she can’t live anymore.”

“Yeah… yeah, that’s pretty much how it works. If we leave her body somewhere nice where it won’t be bothered, she can feed the earth.”

“Okay. I wanna do that, then.”

A sombre procession carried the little broken body to the edge of the meadow. Liv laid the bird beneath a bush and draped her body with a fallen leaf. Then, she sat and looked over the resting place of her friend, tears filling her eyes. Varyyn was right; already there was a big empty hole. An echoey feeling right in her heart. Liv would miss hearing the bird’s chirruping as she played around the garden with her Mama Taylor. Hopefully, she’d remember that, not just this sad, sad feeling… of knowing she couldn’t protect an innocent, of seeing a life fade to nothing. Mama Estela told her that was important. That nothing should ever take away what was beautiful about something or someone once they’re gone.

She got to her feet, brushed off the dirt from her hands, then slipped one into Diego’s.

Bye, bye.

__________________________

La Huerta, 2033

“Penny for yours?”

Estela sat down beneath an old familiar banana tree, settling beside Taylor, who appeared to be a million miles away.

“Oh… I was off in my own world, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, it looks that way. But you looked happy.”

“I am. Just being here has been a breath of fresh air. I feel like I’m me again, and it’s been a long time coming.”

Estela gave a contented hum and rested her head on her wife’s shoulder. “I’ve missed happy Taylor.”

“Well, thanks for sticking by and waiting out for her. Happy Taylor appreciates it.” Taylor chuckled at the sound of Estela’s quiet laughter. It was infectious. Hell, just Estela’s smile was like the embodiment of sunshine, it made coming out the other side of her dark cloud all the more glorious. “I think we’ve got our Livi back. Or I think we’re on the right track.”

“I know we are. It’s been a slow decline… I don’t think I even realised how miserable she’d gotten until I saw her snap back to how she should be.” Estela shrank in on herself. What excuse did she have? She had one job; to keep that kid happy. She didn’t have a war to contend with, or the struggle to get by between pay-checks, and she still couldn’t manage it. “I should have done better. I’ve been trying… I’ve been trying so hard… but somehow I couldn’t make everything better for her. Or you.”

“Don’t you even think about it! No.” Taylor pressed a fierce kiss to Estela’s temple. “We hit a few bumps in the road, that’s all. I wasn’t counting on an intense case of the baby blues… or what might actually have been full-on post-partum depression. The timing was unfortunate; really, it sucked. But you carried us through. When Liv got suspended and I couldn’t fucking stop crying because I just couldn’t handle it, you did handle it. You’re pretty great. Ask Raj; he gave me a magic pep talk earlier, I’m sure I could rope him into a repeat performance.”

“Thank you. You’re good at putting things in perspective, I’ll give you that. I know I set my bar too high. Just because Liv has her struggles, doesn’t mean I’ve failed… it means she’s a human being. And that’s probably what we were aiming for….”

Taylor giggled. “Godammit, my otherworldly influence has been foiled!”

“Actually, while we’ve got a chance to talk… I was speaking with Aleister earlier.”

“Yeah, I thought I saw you two hanging out.”

“Well, it seems like we’ve inspired him and Grace. Reggie’s not going back to that school next year either. It sounds like Livi’s gonna have a homeschooling buddy here on La Huerta!”

“Oh, wow! Ohmygod, that’s perfect! It’ll be just like old times; almost half the gang back home again. And… and the girls? Are they waiting a year, or are they going to teach them as well?”

“You’ll have to ask them, but it sounds like they’re going to get started with Erin and Immy. It’s going to be so good for Liv.”

“Yeah. Really that’s… that’s wonderful. God, I’m so happy right now!”

Estela found herself laughing. Her dork was back. She took Taylor’s hand. “And then, moving forward, Aleister says they’re considering a permanent move to San Trobida-- obviously under the assumption that we’ll be heading in that direction ourselves.”

“Oh my… holy crap!” Taylor flung her arms around Estela and hugged her tight. Something in her knew right away… yes, that’s right. That’s where we’re all meant to be. That gut feeling overshadowed any qualms or fears. “Tio Nicolas is really not gonna know what’s hit him, hey?”

“No; and I think it will be a dream come true.” Nestled in Taylor’s embrace, the scent of her mingling with the La Huerta sea air… it was, to Estela, the very essence of happiness. The excited yells of children at play had her look up over her lover’s arms; there was her Livita, piggybacking little Erin through the shallows while the terror, Immy, sent up wild splashes of water at their faces. It was time to try something new. For them.

“Aw, ‘Stel, just look at them!” Taylor snuggled in, a giddy grin on her face. She needed a change, and she had a feeling that for her, for Estela, for Liv… it would be a step towards their best lives. The year to come, and even beyond that, was to be a thrill ride of the most exhilarating kind, and they’d take it on hand in hand. She exhaled her fears and sadness, and let the wind carry them away. “I really love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too, Taylor. Forever.”

_____________________

Midnight over the Celestial. Or rather, two minutes to midnight. The countdown to Liv’s tenth birthday was on, and the kids-- save for the two little ones who’d long been in bed-- were just about hanging onto the non-grumpy side of overtired.

Ten years. How could that even be? Taylor could see the years in her face and Estela’s, but it still could have been yesterday that they were interrupting the festivities with the announcement that… ‘uh, I think baby might be coming’. What had followed was a period of some of the most intense hours either of them had lived through, a culmination of two lives’ dreams and emotions. And at the end of it, Taylor had found herself holding in her hands the second love of her life. Her sunshine. As children do, Liv grew. She’d tested her mothers, putting pressure on their weak points and making them stronger. She’d brought them closer, something Taylor wouldn’t have believed possible… but sharing their daughter’s journey was like watching a miracle unfold; to be touched and changed was inevitable.

Michelle joined Taylor, a knowing look on face as they watched Liv’s impatient jiggling.

“Crazy night ten years ago… my one and only midwife job.”

Taylor chuckled. “Crazy, crazy night. The best night of my life. I don’t think I’m ever going to stop thanking you for getting us through.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome. Ten years on, it’s stuck with me. It’s amazing to see the young woman she’s growing into. I’m not going to lie, I’m proud of my small part in putting her in the world.”

That change was coming so fast. The transition from that rosy-faced bundle of cuddles into a bright, opinionated adolescent was going to be underway in no time at all. Even now, looking at that giggling ten-year-old, it was hard to imagine.

I’m going to embrace every moment. Every one. You, me, your Mama Estela, we’re on this adventure together. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us next.

Estela put her arms around Taylor from behind, smiling into her wife’s shoulder.

“Is it my birthday yet?” Liv asked, bounding over to them.

“One minute, mija.” She tugged Liv into the hug and covered her forehead in kisses. “Come here!”

The cake was unveiled, and the small girls, Isla, Erin and Immy, erupted into ‘ooh’s, while Liv did a dance in her mothers’ arms. Her family around her sang, all together, celebrating her milestone, and she knew belonging. She looked up to her mothers and grinned, face aglow with candlelight.

The future was bright.

#endless summer #estela x taylor #playchoices

11 notes · View notes

smuttymess · 4 years ago

Text

bts astro soulmate reading | for vanessa

sign: taurus sun | leo moon | virgo rising

lover: min yoongi | soulmate: kim taehyung

Those born with their Sun in Taurus are known for their reliability and fortitude: they know the power of making a plan, staying the course and seeing it through to the end. People initially experience you as a thoughtful, diligent, and strong-willed individual who can be trusted to make key decisions not lose their cool under pressure, establishing you as a valuable figure both in the workplace and in positions of power but also in your personal relationships. Your Virgo rising, or how you present to others, only furthers your presence as a matter-of-fact, hard working person who values perfection and purposefulness in everything that you do no matter how seemingly small and unimportant. Beneath this stoic, occasionally cold exterior is fiery Leo Moon, which brims with a boundless energy that comprises your internal state of emotions and reactions. Leo is driven by ego and being seen, meaning you derive great value from being appreciated from all of your hard work, and you're not afraid to ask for it. When the elements come together, you are likely to experience profound clashes between your outgoing, showy and prideful Leo Moon and the patient, balanced nature of your Taurus Sun. Your specific placements make you one of the most opinionated and brazen signs in the zodiac, meaning you are highly respected but not always liked. Let's face it: not everyone is ready for your level of honesty! And while this can sometimes leave you feeling misunderstood (Leo loves to be loved), the strength of your Taurus Sun affords you heightened sense of self and the world around you alongside a keen understanding that not everyone is for you. Once the bruises on your ego have healed, you're more than happy to pour your signature loyalty, compassion and dedication into the many people that do adore you, creating lifelong relationships that are of the most importance to you.

A Moon in Leo means you have a deep confidence gained from your vast life experience, and your Taurus Sun knows how to use this knowledge to move you forward towards your best self. This inner security allows you to speak candidly, something that others deeply admire about you and undoubtedly has contributed to your success in career and relationships. In being able to very frankly admit to your strengths and weaknesses, you are able to advance ahead of others who are still unsure of their place in the universe and focus on achieving the greatness you know you are capable of reaching, going for nothing less than perfection. It is no surprise that you are selective with your relationships, naturally gravitating towards people who match you level of intellectualism and curiosity. It is Min Yoongi, the sensitive, creative Pisces, that strikes your interest at a large dinner party hosted by a shared acquaintance within your high-rolling social circle from various industries. Preferring to lay back on the sidelines, Yoongi takes in the room, his eyes becoming fixate on you as you light up the room with your Leo fire while deeply immersed in raucous conversation about current events. A Virgo Moon, Yoongi immediately connects with your very logical and perceptive mind, but his lively Aries Venus is both amused and turned on by the evident passion underlying your words as you so expertly articulate your point of view. It is towards the end of the night after countless passing stares when Yoongi finally approaches you, the low, seductive hum of his voice sending you into a daze as his dark eyes pierce into you. It's not everyday you hear people speak their mind in this way - your authenticity is refreshing. I'd love to hear more of your thoughts. Sit with me? This combination of praise and immediate appreciation for your inner self is almost foreplay in and of itself, which only intensifies with the natural flow of the conversation that follows. Not one to waste time, you tell Yoongi to call you when he's free to meet again while he's in town, and it's through the long, winding exchanges in the days and weeks that follow which sets this love affair into motion.

Pisces and Taurus are two signs that connect on a highly emotional level, falling for each other's minds before even thinking of moving to the physical. Underneath your strong, Virgo exterior lies a highly empathetic, good-hearted soul that senses a similar kindness in Yoongi - a quality that you sometimes overlook Though softs spoken at first, you enjoy seeing him open up about his passion for music and artistic pursuits which are much different from your own career path. While you don't enjoy too much leisure in your daily life (there's so much to do!) you find yourself spending hours in bed with Yoongi with whom time simply stands still. His innate passion extends into sex, which you two take your time getting to but inevitably erupts in something very intense and romantic. You are both extremely sensual signs representing the art of pleasure, and nowhere does it become clearer than when Yoongi's lips are on yours, devouring every inch of you while one hand rests behind your neck and the other is free to explore the rest of your body. He is soft but commanding in his presence, his eyes laser-focused on yours as his fingers slide your panties to the side to enter your core, expertly curving inside you and driving a loud moan from your lips. Yoongi is the type to make you fall in love with his sensitivity but also his genuine care for your orgasm, his movements sending shivers throughout your spine as he draws you closer and closer to your edge and stopping only when you are trembling and thrusting against his fingers to ride out your high. A Pisces gets lost in your pleasure, wanting to satisfy you to the fullest extent. You're so fucking beautiful, I can't wait to taste you.

Though highly compatible in bed, this is not a forever duo due to the conflicting nature of your placements. The classic Taurus/Pisces dilemma lies their innately different expectations and life values: while you are both money-motivated, you work in entirely different ways to achieve your goals. You deeply crave the stability that comes with financial independence, while Yoongi's Pisces, makes him much more interested in the freedom that wealth offers. He is the free-flowing fish, who often spends a great deal of time alone inside his fantasy world where he is able to bring his artistic visions to life, neglecting you in the process. You prefer to live with two feet firmly on the ground, and while his Virgo Moon makes him driven, he does not match your level of intensity in this way. His laid-back demeanor, while initially endearing to you, over time this becomes frustrating as it does not align with your need to be doted on and truly adored on a daily basis. It soon becomes clear that your visions of the future are not in sync, and it is the decisive Taurus that ultimately cuts ties in pursuits of someone that is a better fit.

However hurt you are when one relationship prospect ends, your pride does not let you stay down for long - after all, you are all about improving and moving forward. Your sign is likely to immerse themselves in work projects or helping friends and family when they need a distraction and something to get lost in. A Virgo rising has an innate love of learning that knows no limit, and you are likely to enjoy travel that involves a historical/educational component. It is while on a solo adventure through Rome that you meet a fellow wanderer - his dark brown, curly hair falling across his face as his eyes come to meet yours, revealing perhaps the most gorgeous face you've ever seen. I'm Taehyung, pleasure to meet you.

You are dual in nature, and you need someone to appreciate that in full - quirks and all. Enter Kim Taehyung, the enigmatic Capricorn whose varied emotional complexity matches your own and effortlessly clicks. Immediately you come to admire each others shared levels of honesty and ambition, traits you explore over walks through the city streets and subsequently over long-distance phone calls once you return home. From the start these two earth signs are like magnets to each other, and the chemistry's pull is undeniable. Your impatient Leo spirit has likely landed you in trouble by rushing into things romantically, and the Capricorn man is more than happy to take things move at your pace - in fact, he enjoys nothing more than a slow build. While hours-long conversations floating from topic to topic may be a waste of time, with Taehyung it is easy to get lost in the sultriness of his voice, but also the way he romantically views the world around him - the charm emanating from his Aries Moon is infectious and speaks to your soul that also wants to achieve but cares deeply about people. He is also exceptionally lighthearted, knowing exactly when to shift from the pragmatic, hard-working idol to laid-back and silly friend that just wants to make you laugh with a random meme or nonsensical text. Traditional at heart, you're more than happy to be wooed, allowing Tae someone to plan a date and show you an excellent time by curating according to your fine tastes. A Leo Moon knows the value of themselves and their company so doesn't settle for anything half-assed, your Virgo rising makes you prone to criticism, while your Taurus means you are particularly averse to anything that is careless or superficial. You prefer grand gestures to be thoughtful in nature, and you are pleasantly surprised makes you feel appreciated from afar, repeatedly surprising you with gifts delivered that perfectly match your style. Thought this would suit you nicely. Show me on video, I can't wait to see you in it... By the time you are back together in person, it's almost as if reuniting with a long lost friend who you also can't wait to ride.

After several weeks of foreplay over the phone, you two waste no time when you find yourself standing at the entryway of his hotel suite. The intuitive Capricorn male can easily recognize a bit of a praise kink within you, one that his very task-oriented side is happy to experiment with and execute in in the bedroom. His Aquarius in Venus is creative and loves to play, excited to explore dominant/submissive behavior you've expressed interest in and very much wanting to be the one that allows you to relinquish the control you have on all areas of your life. It is truly unnerving how dual he is in nature, his eyes darkening to expose his dominant side that senses your anticipation at the appearance of a small toy, the tension steadily building between your thighs as you imagine how it will feel against you. A true tease, Tae lights you on fire with ease as he moves to close the gap between your bodies, his fingers gently tracing your jaw and neck as his lips graze your trembling lips. Patience, my love. It's going to be a long evening. Tae's Capricorn/Aquarius combo alongside your Taurus/Leo means that there is an unpredictability in the dynamic, resulting in many sexual possibilities. You're both more than capable of switching roles, your Taurus takes the lead as Taehyung stares up at you in awe, his lips falling apart as you press your breasts against his strong chest. You enjoy coaxing praises from his lips as you straddle him, grinding down onto his length slowly as a desperate moan escapes his lips and he bucks his hips, aching to fill you up. You've teased me all this time, let's see how you like being toyed with. There is something so deeply satisfying about his deep voice groaning and telling you how perfect you are as you bounce on his cock, stopping strategically to to edge him and hear him beg with those beautiful lips of his. This is a pairing that is as good at long-drawn out passionate sessions as they are with to-the-point quickies, learning with ease how to make the other come undone in a matter of minutes. It is not unusual for a 20 min break in the day to turn into you and Tae on the couch, your leg over his shoulder with his finger rubbing your clit as his strokes feverishly into you and smiling as he sets a new record. While sex between these two can be extremely gentle, especially after days apart, there is a natural bit of a competition here: who can make the other come the hardest? Either way, you both win.

Together, a Capricorn and Taurus build a life of comfort, stability, and trust that could only be created by two earth signs. Above all else, you need the emotional stability that comes from being with a like-minded soul who is as strong, independent and decisive as you are - someone who will let you shine brightly while confidently pursuing their own goals. But at the end of a long day, your partner also needs to be able to consistently shower you with the love and affection you crave - almost as if it were their second job. While you certainly get off on being admired by many, at a deep level you truly desire one lifelong love who only has eyes for you. You find this in Capricorn Tae, a highly disciplined, hardworking spirit who also enjoys surprising you with his quirky, unconventional nature that brings out your inner child and proves to be a life partner in all ways. With a shared love for learning and individual perfectionism, this is a duo that will likely achieve greatness in very different fields but find a way to make them mesh well - Taehyung in music and art and you in whatever path you choose - while providing a level of understanding to each other that few others can. This combination enjoys a very stable and established home base in each others hearts given a high importance placed on wealth and comfort, but not extravagance or over-indulgence. This is a pairing that likely has an apartment in the heart of the city for business matters, but prefers the coziness of their primary residence outside of the city. It is in this home that you are able to fully decompress from a day of leading and producing to simply be your unique selves, the space serving as a sanctuary for you to get lost in pure domestic bliss. Possessing a complimentary balance of temperaments and desires, Capricorn and Taurus is a match for the ages, one that is long-lasting and rooted in family, loyalty and prosperity.

#taurus #leo #virgo #pisces #bts astrology #bts horoscope #kim taehyung #min yoongi #astrology #horoscope #bangtan astrology

9 notes · View notes

brightening-glance · 5 years ago

Photo

So I was inspired by @kiragecko to create a floor plan of Wayne Manor. I started out trying to be accurate to the comics, but eventually gave up because it changed so many times that was impossible. This is more like the manor shown in recent comics, specifically from when Dick and Damian were Batman and Robin, but I also pulled references from a bunch of different comics and from different timelines and the Gotham tv show. At this point this is the floor plan for the mashed up canon that exists in my head. Aside from @kiragecko’s own floor plan, other references included Biltmore, Filoli, Casa Loma, The Breakers, Rosecliff, Marble House, and Darlington/Crocker Mansion. I tried to make it mostly to scale, although I hand drew this and then cleaned it up digitally, so it’s probably a little off in some places. Blue text is what the current Wayne/Batfamily use the rooms for, green is what the historical use was, and black is what they’d likely be listed as on a real estate listing. Green doors are hidden or jib doors, basically doors that aren’t obvious but don’t require a pass code to get through or lead to the Batcave. Purple “doors” are the secret passages like the one hidden behind the grandfather clock that even an observant bystander shouldn’t be able to find and involve much more security. More explanations under the cut.

So the comics are unclear on how the Waynes got Wayne Manor. They say that Nathan van Derm designed it for Darius Wayne, but then also that Darius’s grandsons, Solomon and Joshua, purchased it after Jerome van Derm died. At some point after Joshua died (in 1860), the manor was abandoned and Solomon’s son Alan (Bruce’s great-great-grandfather) rebuilt it.

In my head, the east and west wings of the W would have been later editions. The first version of the manor, up to at least when Alan Wayne rebuilt it, would have probably just been the central portion, out to the 2 towers. Original kitchen would have been in the basement, as well as additional servants quarters. It’s not shown on the plans, but in this version the basement has been renovated to include a gym, movie room, and game area (leaving aside the much cooler basement underneath.) Also not pictured is the third floor/attic, which includes servants quarters and a third floor sitting room above Thomas Wayne’s den that looks out over the front lawn.

With the east and west wings, you can see the very clear divisions in purpose. The west wing was a guest wing, probably added when serious entertaining became a thing, with a dedicated ballroom and guest bedrooms. The east wing downstairs was the servants’ wing - kitchen, staff dining room, butler’s pantry, bedrooms for upper household staff. East wing upstairs was the children’s/nursery wing.

In the center of the house you can see a male/female divide that went with the historical idea of some rooms (billiard room/smoking room/study/library) being “men’s spaces” and some (drawing room/morning room) being “women’s spaces. The bedrooms for the permanent residents of the manor in the 1860s (Solomon and his wife, Joshua, Celestine) follow this divide as well, though unlike other “great houses” Wayne manor didn’t go so far as to have a separate bachelor’s wing.

Regarding the jib doors vs secret passageways - secret passageways are basically entrances to the batcave, although they would’ve also been used by Solomon and Joshua as part of the underground railroad. Off the servery you can see the entrance to the wine cellar where Joshua’s body was eventually found. The jib doors (in green) would have been used by servants or family members to pass between rooms without going into the main hallways. Great for sneaking up on people!

Ok, going into some more specifics - headcanon time! Basically everything beyond this is just in my head, and the Batfam stuff is set at some point in the future. (It’s a really shame they stopped writing Batman Comics right after Bruce came back from they dead. Ric? Ric who? don’t know what you’re talking about).

First, Celestine Wayne. Celestine Wayne is not a comic character. She was loosely inspired by the history of the Waynes from Gotham the tv show, and by loosely I mean her name and the fact that she lived during the Civil War era. There is a C.L. Wayne from that time period who founded the Gotham Botanical Garden in the comics, and in my head they are definitely the same person. In the Wayne family tree in my head her father was Caleb Wayne, and she was Solomon and Joshua’s cousin who became their ward for.......reasons undecided yet. Her father was leading wagon trains and so never home. Something else happened. You pick! She never married (imagine whatever reason you want here, I tend to stay away from the tv show explanation and go with she just wasn’t interested, but any reason works) and so when she became an adult and was still living at the manor but not the “lady of the house” the floor plan was slightly modified to give her her own suite of rooms. Joshua Wayne has something similar in the sense of having his own private study next to his room, although his were only connected by secret passage. Sometime between Dick moving out and Tim moving in permanently, Dick moved from his childhood room into these rooms (leaving Tim free to move into his old bedroom, a thing that actually happened in the comics). Maybe this happened when he was adopted? Maybe when he and Bruce kinda reconciled after Bruce got his back broken? Who knows! There was definitely a period where to Dick the Manor was Not His Home Anymore, and so in his mind he probably didn’t have a permanent room there (and tried to avoid staying there). Think of the moving to the “grown up full suite” as a really old fashioned way of Bruce or Alfred or both saying “I recognize you’re an adult with your own life and autonomy and I cannot treat you like a child, but also this is your home and you will always have a permanent place here.”

Other rooms of note - most mansions I referenced did not have a dedicated armoury, but it’s Batman! Of course there’s an armoury. For historical artifacts, a lot of these weapons sure seem functional......

The tea room was not originally a tea room but somewhere along the way at least one of the Wayne matriarchs was very fond of afternoon tea. With Alfred in the manor it is definitely a Space for Afternoon Tea, although it also gets used for other meals occasionally and Alfred will do a lot of his meal planning/any other paperwork there, even though he technically has an office.

When Thomas and Martha were alive, there were actually full time staff living at the manor beyond Alfred and the staff quarters got used, and the “servant’s hall” actually got used as a staff dining room, but now this is where the family members tend to gather if there’s too many of them to just eat in the kitchen. (In my head, Wayne Manor during Thomas and Martha’s life is basically the Wayne Manor described by @unpretty who has written some of my favorite Batman fics ever.)

When Bruce was growing up, Thomas Wayne’s den was the “casual family living room” that every other sitting room in the manor was not, and after he died Bruce couldn’t bear to touch anything in it and avoided it unless he was doing some hardcore brooding. When he moved back/took in Dick, he converted one of the bedrooms to a tv room because he wanted a space that was casual and none of the other spaces felt like a tv belonged in them, but he still couldn’t go in his father’s den. As things have gotten better, and also as Tim and Damian’s relationship improved and Tim started coming around more, Bruce was finally ready to let this go and this became basically Tim’s workspace for whenever he’s at the manor. Bruce will work on stuff in there if Tim is in there, but he still doesn’t spend a lot of time in there on his own. (Ok, this was a little bit inspired by a Rebirth comic, don’t know which one, not gonna find it, I’m sure the rest of it was silly). Bruce tends to use the study downstairs if he’s working on W.E. work or other stuff like that. Jason and Dick’s go to places for any type of homework (when they were living at the manor) or any other work they might have to sit down and do are one of the libraries or wherever Bruce or Alfred are, depending on their mood and what they’re working on, and how long they’ve been living at the manor.

I’m pretty sure Martha Wayne painting/drawing is canon, but I don’t remember the comic it was referenced in. Anyway, she turned what was being used as a sunroom into her art studio because it had the best light. With Damian in the manor it’s slowly being reclaimed by art supplies.

There are definitely rolling mirrors and freestanding barres in the ballroom that Cass uses for dance practice.

Not pictured: the massive garage, stables, tennis courts, basketball courts, gardens, pond, and basically everything on the grounds.

If anyone is curious about what comic panels I referenced (or ignored), or what real world rooms/houses inspired specific parts, shoot me a message! Also, feel free to use this in art/fics/whatever if you want a reference!

#wayne manor #floor plan #dc #batfam #mine #long post #wayne family #i did not intend for this to be this long but then i started writing and this happened #this might change in the future but this is how i picture it in my head now

32 notes · View notes