Tumgik
#ahh man !! small world indeed
calwasfound · 10 months
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I followed you for your tsp stuff, but I was looking through your art tag and it was such a pleasant surprise to realize that I actually recognize your art from participating in mcyt tumblr !!! like wow!!!! It’s a small world!!!!!
oh my gosh !! first of all, thank you for sticking around :DD and i'm so glad you like my art!
(and indeed, it is a small world! the mcyt -> tsp pipeline may be small, but it is VERY real)
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middleearthsdreams · 5 months
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New World
Chapter 2
A/n: here I am, again, hoping that you're enjoying this work. I won't be long, so here it is. xoxo
Warnings: none.
enjoy <3
chapter 1 / chapter 3
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You wake up feeling cold, again. You hope this isn’t going to be of routine. You flutter your eyes open, frowning by the headache spreading at the centre of your forehead. You sit up, yawning lightly, wondering where the fuck your glasses are. You try to get up but fall miserably on the ground, the bed far too tall to be yours. You hear a light snore from across the bed and that’s when your eyes widen. ‘Ahh, right’ you think to yourself. You put on your glasses to find that you are – indeed – still in Westeros. Your half-closed eyes fall to the great silhouette of Sandor still resting on his pillow.
You huff silently, not wanting to wake him up. You look around the dark room, eyes setting on the window, hearing too many sounds this far in the night. You go up to the small window, looking down. You wonder what the time is, since there are men readying horses and departing all around. Children scurry along, wearing poor clothes, assisting the men for some coins. It’s still dark but you sense that dawn isn’t far away. Your eyes fall to one small boy in particular, you don’t know why. He looks up at you and you smile towards him, then he runs into the forest.
You turn around a loud snore breaking the silence. He’s fallen in a deep sleep, from all the drinking you had last night you wonder why you’re awake. You sigh, deciding to do the same, so you lay back down. This time you turn towards him. You know you won’t get a second chance, so you enjoy the brief moment of his unconsciousness. Your shaky fingers brush away his hair, revealing his burnt side of the face. You caress his scar with feather touches, sighing and making yourself more comfortable on the hard pillow – closer this time. Giving one last look at his rough profile, you close your eyes.
Some minutes later you have to open them again, because your door is opening and some men are getting in. You recognize some faces and decide to act asleep: the Brotherhood. You grasp silently Sandor’s hand, although you know he’s sleeping far too deeply to feel you. You just want to be with him, knowing what will soon happen. The men put a sack over his head, then turn him around to tie his hands back. You feel the hold on your hand tighten slightly. “Havin’ fun are we? Didn’t know he had a likin’ for little girls” One of them say, turning you around and tying your wrists too. You hold your breath, feeling one of the man’s hand touch your rear. You kick the man back with your bare foot, hearing him groan in pain. “Strike, you fucker” You mumble, laughing to yourself, high fiving in your head for your extraordinary aim at his balls.
Sandor stirs, the commotion wakening him up. He turns and struggles, the ties too tight for him to break them. “What’s going on?” He asks tiredly, sitting on the bed but falling miserably. You snicker in your head by the loud thump. You turn back, sitting on the cushions and waiting for the men to do what they have to do. It takes three men to pick Sandor up, his mind too dazed by the wine you had last night to protest the assault. Since he can’t see he just gives up, stumbling to walk out the door. You don’t put up much of a fight, you only glare at the man who dared to touch you. He receives a whack on the back of the head by his companions, apologizing to you for his brother’s behaviour. Still, they keep you tied up.
You don’t say a word as the men bring you along, following Sandor’s ass downstairs and outside. The Sun has crept up by now, you notice. The men chat and laugh, as they shove him inside the diner’s door. He has to bend his neck to enter it, given his absurd height. As you enter the door, people start cheering and clapping, then you hear a famiiar voice. Thoros exclaims drunkenly: “That’s an uncommonly large person!”. Then he stumbles to get a closer look “How does one manage to subdue such an uncommonly large person?” he questions, you can smell the same shitty alcohol you drank last night in his breath. The archer responds – quite proud of his work – “one waits for him to drink and have fun ‘till he passes out”. You try to cover your mouth, a humoured smile creeping on your face. Despite the rough ways, the Brotherhood without Banners always managed to make you laugh. Especially in this scene. Only, this time, you could witness it. Then you remember that you’re tied up too, your smile retreating from your lips. Thoros speaks again, knowingly “Poor man, you have my sympathy” as he proceeds to unveil Sandor’s gruff head. His hair all messy and shoulders up, probably from the sudden light. Thoros chuckles excitedly, as much as he can of course, then turns around like he’s on stage “Aha! Not a man at all… a Hound!”. The ‘crowd’ cheers and howls, making fun of the man. Your scowl deepens, unhappy by the treatments reserved for Sandor. He just stands there, used to this joke about him being a dog. “So good to see you Clegane” Thoros turns back to chat with the tied man, his eyes glance to you briefly so he scoffs “did I interrupt a night of fun?”. Sandor doesn’t take the bait and looks at the drunk man annoyed “Thoros, the fuck you doing here?”. You roll your eyes as the men exchange a few hateful words for each other, little kids. Your interest goes to the little girl, standing and ready to leave. Arya, fearing of getting recognized, hastily reaches for Hot Pie and then Gendry, urging them to leave. You stop to observe her, all eyes on her, as she passes by. As she passes, you notice how short she actually is, a little girl. Your eyes soften, she’d already gone a great long way. You shake your head, this is just the beginning.
“Girl!” Sandor exclaims, looking deeply at Arya, obviously recognizing her. “What on Seven Hells are you doing with a Stark bitch?” He almost bites at Thoros’ face, turning to look at her. Arya looks back, eyes wide with fear, stopping her escape. She was almost there.
By the time Thoros decides what to do with the new turn of events, you have had some boys cut your bonds. But not wanting to leave Sandor – of course – you stick with the Brotherhood, following them around as they prepare to take their leave. You go up to the archer, the one that seems to have made his living purpose to torment Sandor. After some denying he finally accepts to bring you with, tired of your insistence. You sit on the carriage that’s reserved for Sandor, followed shortly after by him – not after the same archer made him bump his head on purpose. They make him sit next to you, thank god. The Hound seems to notice your presence, so he turns his – covered – head towards you “The fuck are you still doing here?”. You expected this reaction from him; who are you to follow his every step like a puppy, after all? You shrug, sitting more comfortably on the hard wood: “I don’t have urgent matters to attend, and I don’t know what I would do without your company” you joke – but you’re not really lying. He grunts, not enjoying this situation one bit. You smirk shortly, crossing your arms and wait. As the other men take place inside the carriage you sit straight. The one across form you looks apologetic, but covers your head too with a bag “Nobody can find out our secret location, sorry lady”. You shrug but roll your eyes, like you didn’t know already. You wanted to, at least, enjoy the trip by looking around. Now you have nothing to do, your hands on your lap to play with your fingers to pass the time. At least they didn’t tie you up again.
The ‘journey’ goes pretty quickly, having made conversation with some of the men. They were pretty chill, so you opted to gossip with them about the scandals going on around all Westeros. You needed a little catching up to do, your memory could do so little against this enormous world, so you thank them silently for reminding you of things you completely forgot about. All the while Sandor remains silent, his legs open wide and stance stoic, he doesn’t change position for one moment. Only a soldier could be like that.
Arriving at the cave, you can hear the water flowing against the rocks. And they thought they were smart by putting bags on your heads. However, they bring you inside, only lifting the bags when you reach the core of the cave. Torches lighten up the place, a great fireplace stands in the middle of the crowd. The men make you sit on the ground, while the great Beric Dondarrion stands. His stance is stoic but offers a little bit of challenge, to whoever dared to question him. His face is scarred and you’re thankful his eye is hidden by the eyepatch; however, you find his gaze very welcoming. He lures you in, so all you can do is stare at him, while he talks. You miss the first part of the conversation but quickly pop in when the Brotherhood starts to accuse Sandor – utmost his family – for killing the Targaryen children. Sandor responds promptly – still bound – “Do you take me for my brother?”.
He turns and looks everyone in the eye then continues “Is being born Clegane a crime?”. His voice quivers, his eyes still set on the flames surrounding him. “Murder is a crime!” Someone exclaims, so Sandor plants his feet and spells clearly his next words “I never touched the Targaryen babes! I never saw them, never smelled them, never heard them bawling! You want to cut my throat: get on with it” his eyes water slightly and so does yours, your breath hitching. If it weren't for his brother, his life would have gone a much different way. He'd still have a family. He'd still have half of his face. He woulnd't so vengeful. “But don’t call me murderer and pretend that you are not” He finishes, and you think he’s right. You nod, already knowing what’s going to happen, but letting the events unfold before your eyes. “You murdered Mycah” Arya yells, standing two feet from you, all eyes turning to her. You look up, almost wanting to kick her little butt. “The butcher’s boy, my friend: he was 12 years old and unarmed. You rode him down and slung him over your horse, like he was a deer” she is cut off by Sandor “Aye, he was a bleeder”. You turn to him now, kicking a rock at him, hitting him in the knee. He didn’t care that he was going to be killed. You roll your eyes at the rest of the bickering. Everybody knows he only did as Joffrey ordered him to. You try to talk against the accuse but Beric states his final judgement “I sentence you to trial by combat”. You stand now, glaring at Beric but a hand holds you in your place. You see the archer, warning in his eyes. You know you can’t interfere, but anger boils in your chest. It’s unjust how so many people point their finger at Sandor, without even knowing what he really did. You sit back down, and so does Arya and a few other men.
Thoros chants his magic words – nonsense to you – and other people reply back. Sandor is set free from the ropes; he massages his shoulders and stretches his back from the pain. You get distracted by him twirling his sword back and forth, when a sudden light comes from Beric. You turn your head, able to witness one of the most incredible sights in all Westeros. Beric’s sword, caught a flame, tall and almighty. Your eyes light up – literally, in awe by this sort of miracle. Sandor takes two steps back, frightened by the fire. His worst nightmare coming true, but still he wields his sword tightly and holds a wooden shield in his other hand.
And so, the battle begins, the crowd getting farther from the fighters as the move. Swords clash ferociously fast; you barely see their movements. They turn and move, as if they’re dancing, grunting and yelling. Well, not a fancy and elegant dance. Their movements are harsh and strong – Sandor cuts a wooden pillar in half with just a swing, you fear they can hit someone nearby, by the force. Arya gets taken away by Thoros just in time, Sandor’s sword hitting the ground. She is thrown in your arms, so you hold her tight. Regardless of her spite for the Hound, right now, you hold her dearly. Her fierce eyes scan the situation, examining every slash and swing, every vacillation of the two opponents. “Kill him!” Arya yells, and you let her, but grip her tighter. Sandor gets taken down for a few beats, but yet he stands, throwing Beric away. His terror of fire showing clearly on his face as his shield sets up aflame. The peak of the fight lingers for a few more seconds; Sandor’s panic enraging him more and bringing him to the edge. Finally, the sound of flesh and bones ripping apart fills the cave. You close your eyes, not before you catch the sight of Beric’s shoulder almost falling off. The picture is already buried in your mind, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t disgust you. Arya stills in your arms, you loosen your grip completely, relieved by the end of the trial. Thoros jumps towards Beric’s lifeless body, whispering prayers in his ear and touching his bloody arm. You slide to Sandor, kneeling before him, his tired body lying on the ground. You take his arm – to which he huffs – and slip the rest of the crumbled and burned shield off of him. He grunts but smiles, like a cat. Arya’s cry crosses the room, you see her stealing someone’s knife – ready to kill the Hound with her bare hands. She runs to you and Sandor, but gets taken by a few companions of the Brotherhood, led away from you. “Noo, let me go!” The archer holds her down, putting much effort because she’s turning and wiggling like a madwoman. Sandor laughs, you look down to him, your eyes warning him but he ignores you “Looks like the God of Light prefers me over your dear butcher boy’s life”. You hit his shoulder, scolding him “down boy, don’t tease her”. Arya yells “Burn in Hell!” almost crying from the effort. Your eyes set on the dead body of Beric, covered by Thoros’ form, waiting for him to resuscitate. Beric’s voice cuts the silence “He’s already had”. You cringe, furrowing your brows, why did he change the sentence? You don’t have time to think about it because the second miracle of the day happens before your eyes. The man sits, limping and breathing harshly of course. His shoulder completely healed, attached to his neck again. The shock escaping Arya’s face distracts her by her madness, luckily. You gasp, your native language spilling quietly from your lips “Santissima, manco Gesù Cristo”.
Beric smiles, already able to walk and move, declaring the trial done and finished. For good.
Arya’s temper is on fire, maybe that’s why Sandor was intimidated by her – just a little bit. Not that he will admit it. After the trial, they let you help Sandor, clean him up and give him water. He grunts but doesn’t reject your help, too tired to fight with you too. The Brotherhood decides to let you go, thankfully, but keeps Arya with them. You protest, arguing with Thoros about Arya’s wellbeing, telling him that she would be safer with someone who could actually defend her. He philosophises about what the conception of trust was and stuff like that, so you groan and leave him be. He smiles triumphantly, while you look back at him.
 You sit down next to Sandor, who’s tying his boots back on and adjusting his belt. You hold your gaze with Thoros, still a bit mad at him but pondering: what wonders he could do, as a priest. That’s one thing that always intrigued you, the Lord of Light and red priest/priestess stuff. The mystery and dark shadows that it cast upon everyone’s fate. Much like the mystery of your presence in this world.
Thoros knows you’re observing him, that’s why he stands up and reaches you. Sandor goes to ready the horse, leaving the spot close to you empty. Thoros slumps down, offering you a sip of the shit ale he was drinking. You shake your head, crossing your arms to your chest. He shrugs, eyes half lidded as always, knowing. He begins “Yer not from around here”, and again someone makes this statement. You wonder if you could tell him the truth: he probably wouldn’t give half a shit if you came from another world. And he is a priest, you wonder if… “No, I’m farther from home than you could think, actually” you decide to answer saying half the truth. He nods “Aye, I figured as much” taking another sip. His hands go intertwine under his chin, resting his elbows on his knees, observing your face. You decide to question him “It’s incredible what you’ve done in that cave, what you can do” he tilts his head flattered, smirking, you continue holding his eyes “I wonder what other fascinating things can happen in this world”. He rolls his eyes but keeps smiling “I’m sure that’s not what you want to tell me, so quit playing around and ask me” he clears. You freeze for just a moment but decide to confess: “Is it possible to travel through worlds?”. You observe his reaction on edge, not really sure of how he would react. His eyes widen, only in a beat, then he holds your hand and stands up. You let him drag you but keep your other hand on the hidden dagger on your side, still not sure if you can trust him. You discover he’s leading you towards the nearest fire, stopping in front of it with your hand still tightly held in his. You hiss, his strong fingers now becoming very hot: “can you let go, please?”. He shakes his head with his eyes closed, mumbling something under his breath. You can’t make out the words but you’re sure he’s praying, or something of the like. He suddenly gasps and lets your hand go – you’re eager to massage your red fingers. He just motions you to the flames so you get the message. You stand closer to the fire, squinting your eyes trying to understand what you’re supposed to see. Then it hits you.
You and Thoros have a long talk.
You’re standing in front of Stranger, petting his soft coat absentmindedly. Sandor’s refilling his last water and food supplies, kindly offered by the Brotherhood. You’re still going back to the conversation you just had with Thoros, your thoughts racing. Stranger cuddles you with his snout, letting out appreciation sounds which distract you from your mind just enough. You smile kindly to the horse, thanking him with the eyes. “Are you done making love with my beast?” The sudden harsh voice of Sandor makes you jump by the surprise. You roll your eyes but leave Stranger be, he neighs disappointed, and retort “You’re so jealous it’s almost embarrassing, Clegane”. He looks you up and down, unfazed, then closes the last bag. He turns his back to you, holding Stranger’s reigns, stating: “Farewell” and with that he starts to walk away. You glare at his broad shoulders, catching up with him walking side by side with him. “And what am I supposed to do all alone?” You try to manipulate him “you can’t leave me”. He stops and looks at you, unsure and diffident “Why do you want to follow me, uh?” he exclaims – his eyes wary. “Do you think I’m some kind of freak you can play with? You trynna have a good laugh? Perhaps you seek me out for protection but bad news: I won’t” His breathing goes short, his shoulders raising and falling deeply. You are taken aback, unable to talk by the sudden tone. You feel ashamed, looking to the ground. You can’t tell him why you’re following him, but you surely don’t want him to think of you that way. You’re hurt by his distrustful nature, of course he thinks you want to taunt him: why would you be interested in him otherwise? He doesn’t know you. Maybe you took things faster than they should have been. He waits for you to say something, uncertain but hopeful – that maybe he’s wrong. You sigh, deciding to tell him the truth – well, half of it.
“The thing is: I don’t know either why I’m here; I’m lost in an unknown land and I don’t know why or what I’m supposed to do” you take a deep breath, trying to find the words to describe how you feel, your eyes faltering between his cold ones “When I woke up in that forest I thought I was dreaming, then I found you and I feel like you’re the only one I can trust. I’m not looking for someone to defend me or else, I’m just lost. So, please…”. You struggle to continue because of his intense stare, you gulp “Please, don’t leave me alone”. His face sets on a scowl making your heart pump fast under your ribcage, your palms sweating. You really don’t want to be left alone, and he really is the only one in the entire world whose acts are genuine. He pats Stranger and begins walking again. Your whole head slumps: he’s leaving. You look down, hoping the ground would open and bring you back home. Your eyes glistening, you start to walk opposite him.
“Where are ye going?”
The silence is broken by his rough tone. Your boots stop you from taking another step, you look back. He’s glancing at you with one brow raised. You stand like a deer hit from car lights. “I won’t ask a second time” He grunts out. You stupidly run back to his side. You hold his waist tightly, hugging him so suddenly he has to take a few seconds to understand what you just did. You mutter quietly against his cold armour “Thank you”. He lets you have your intimate moment for a few seconds more, then scolds you “Alright, that’s enough”. You let him go, blushing by your own unexpected action. To repair the uncomfortable silence, you walk up to Stranger’s big head and litter it with kisses, talking to him with the ‘cute pet’ voice: “Looks like we’re gonna be travelling companions for some more time”. The horse grunts happily and leans his head to pet you as well, the intelligent animal he is. You laugh at this and accept the cuddles. Sandor sighs, but his mouth is slightly turned upwards – not that you can see it. “Feels like you’re in love with that animal” He mumbles. You take place to his side once more – not leaving it this time – and say “Maybe I am”. Your eyes aren’t on the horse but – in fact – on Sandor, your sentence having a second meaning behind it. He looks down at you and notices your eyes set on him, making him – gasp – blush. He clears his throat and turns his head “Whatever”.
You smile, happy that he didn’t ask you more about yourself, but most importantly happy that he’s accepted to bring you along. You’re determined to come through with your ‘mission’, now that things are starting to get better. Finally able to proceed with your plan, your journey with the Hound begins.
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hykar · 12 days
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💫🌷I'm into you Pt 3•°
🌷This is a repost because I didn't like how I wrote the previous one, it bothered me so much that I stopped writing for a few weeks Im sorry TT, (I also hit the back of my head on the wooden edge of a sofa by accident and blacked out for q few days). Also I forgot to mention that this fic is an AU where in there isn't awakened abilities and such.
Synopsis: Sucheon Kang is your admirer, the way he shows you affection however is in such an odd way... A grumpy(?) Kind of way. At first you thought he was just trying to be more nicer to people not until you noticed that he's only acting this way to you.
You as: Anon [Anonymous]
°•☆•°☆°•☆•°☆°•☆•°☆°•☆•°☆°•☆•°☆°•☆•°☆°•☆•°
"Sucheon, can I ask you something?" Your heart raced—regretting that you decided to ask.
He looked up at you—covering his mouth as he chewed. "Yeah?" He swallowed.
"Why are you getting me stuff?"
"Because I can and I want to, simple as that." A non-verbal way to tell you that I like you.
"Why do you want to?"
He was silent, his eyes staring into yours. He looked away eventually, stirring the chopsticks around the noodles to gather them before he spoke, "Maybe because... You're not shit like the rest..." He took a bite. Should I just... tell them?
You laughed a little, God that laugh or yours... "Not shit?" "Mhm." "Not satisfied with that answer but okay." You continued eating, a light smile formed on his face.
1 year before.
All eyes are on him wherever he went, eyes that showered him with either fear or hatred. Of course, who wouldn't fear the prodigal son of a wealthy businessman in a world where the rich reign? Who wouldn't fear the student who have some students under a chokehold with his wealth? Who wouldn't hate being under a chokehold that's used against them? Talk about having your studies sponsored by the Kangs themselves. Who wouldn't hate such an arrogant asshole?
"Ahh- fuck-!" Sucheon cursed, moving his face away. "Oh sorry- did I press too hard or is the alcohol too strong?" [Name]—who found Sucheon in an empty classroom beaten up and bruised—apologized. "You're good. Just the alcohol." Sucheon sighed, turning his head back to your direction. Gently, you rubbed the cotton swab on the small cut on his face.
What the fuck am I feeling? Sucheon's heart started to race. His breathing a little quicker than normal and his ears burned slightly. You're so close to him... Your scent... Your eyes... Your so..."You're the new kid at class 2-A right?" Sucheon asked, trying to distract himself. "Mhm." "Name?" "[First Name] [Last Name], and you are...?" "Sucheon Kang." "Oh so thats you.." "Hmm?" "A classmate told me about you, well.. more like warned." Typical. "What did they say?" "Just told me to be wary of you and that you're pretty arrogant." Again, typical. "Ahh.."
"What happened might I ask?"
"Got beaten up, obviously."
"I meant the details about it specifically."
"Got beaten up by 3 classmates over some petty shit."
"Is that so? Tell me about it."
"Fuckers can't get over getting their shit criticized in front of people, I mean it was fucking ugly they just can't accept it. If you want to be dogshit for the rest of your life just say that, That was in the previous school year too for sucks sake. Took three of them to beat me up and they had the nerve to act all tough and shit." That wasn't everything... Fucking assholes had to bring in that dead man into shit that he got nothing to do with just to get something out of me...
"Ahh... There, all good."
"Thanks." He tapped your shoulder twice before standing up and leaving the classroom.
It's understandable why people dislike him, his overconfidence and pride. Terrible indeed. But using someone's moment of silence when they're grieving the loss of a father and the loss itself as a way to give him a taste of his own medicine? Just as terrible. Though Sucheon's actions and attitude aren't all that justifiable, we can't blame him either for it stemmed from the kind of people he is with at home—if it could be even called one—rooting deep into him.
The suns rays was blazed down at everyone in the field, students sheltered under any shade they could find to take a break. Sucheon sat down at the end of bleachers under the shade of a tree. "Hey you good?" [Name] asked, looking at Sucheon who' looked liked is on the verge of passing out from the heat. Their voice echoed in Sucheon's head, his vision a blur and a haze as he looked up at them. Is that angel or its just light above this persons head? [Name] picked up their water bottle, "Drink up, you're getting dizzy from the heat." They said, assisting Sucheon to drink. The fog in Sucheon's head started to clear, seconds later he managed to hold the bottle and drink on his own. "Feel better?" Sucheon looked at them, their heart pounding and their ears starting to burn. "Yeah. Thanks." THIS FEELING AGAIN? WHAT IS THIS?!
Whatever Sucheon was feeling it didn't just happen when you were near or the two of you are talking, it doesn't stop on the eye contacts you to exchange, even the smile you greet him with when the two of you see each other in the hallways or in the cafeteria. It happened every single time possible as long as it involved you. Though he wouldn't deny that it was nice having at least one new person that wouldn't shoot a dirty or fearful look at him wherever he went. It was like a breath of fresh air to him. One day he even unknowingly smiled back, to which he questioned himself for.
His are arms crossed as he was sitting down on the soft mattress of his bed, deep in thought. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! WHAT AM I DOING??? WHY AM I FEELING THINGS?! WHAT IS THAT FLUTTERING AND BURNING FEELING THAT I FEEL WHEN I SEE THEM?! WHAT THE FUCK?! AM I... BEING HEXED OR SOMETHING?! Nah that can't be real... IT MAKES SENSE THOUGH???
"Sucheon?" Suman waved his hand in front of his nephew's face, no response. "Sucheon???" He tried again. "Yoohoo.." Suman snapped his fingers, still no response.
There's that fucking feeling again... "Sorry for using you as shield." Sucheon apologized as he bandaged your forehead. "It's fine." "Still, you got hurt cause of it." "Like I said, its fine. You're already taking responsibility for the outcome of what you did, that itself is already a sincere apology." "You're not going to.. say.. something?" Sucheon chuckled, "Well, what were you expecting to hear?" He shrugged, "Anger, mean words and such." "What is there to be angered about when you're already making amends?" "Right.." "Mhm." ...Do I... like them? No fuck no. Hell no.
"I can take care of it myself." Sucheon insisted, though hi state and the bleeding wound on his knee burning red says otherwise. You rolled your eyes "You literally couldn't walk without a support." You poured betadine on a cotton swab before gently rubbing it on his wound. Sucheon just stared at you, his heart racing. "There." You said, pulling down the end of his rolled up pants after you finished bandaging the wound. "I'll stay with you till your uncle gets here." "No need, thanks." "I insist." "...Fine." Maybe...? SUCHEON. NO.
The sun was out earlier and the sky was bright, Sucheon didn't expect it would rain really hard moments later. Now he's stuck at a convenience store where he ran into you. "You're gonna get sick, stupid." He grumbled, handing your jacket back to you. "I won't, my place is just down the street so its fine. Yours isn't." You handed him your jacket back, "Just use it to get to the bus stop anf get home safe." You smiled at him softly before sprinting through the rain. Sucheon looked at your jacket, his heart pounding. ...I think I do like them... Oh my fucking God... FUCK.
"...He's at it again." Suman thought to himself, peeking at his nephew who was once again sitting on his bed and staring at nothing from the door after his knocks were ignored 5 times. He then shut the door and sighed. "What's happening to him?"
WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING TO ME?! WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?! WHY AM I ACTING SO WEIRD THESE DAYS?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! For some reason, Sucheon's attitude had noticeably toned down a little bit which came across as concerning to everyone on campus and to some people in the company. "Maybe the loss of his father caused this much change to him... Sad but thankfully he's a little more bearable now." Most of the people thought, who knew it was just some person named [Name] who coaxed out those small changes out of him.
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"Hmm? ...Waffles huh?" Sucheon glanced at the clock 12AM. "......Fuck it, its now or never."
"What's the container for?" Suman asked, looking at his nephew behind him who was transferring the waffles into a take out box he somehow has. "Can't you eat it in a plate instead?" "...It's not for me." "Oh? Who for?" "Just someone." Suman gave him that look, "Unc it's not that-" "It totally is don't lie to me."
Present.
"Let's go to the lake a block down from school tomorrow, yeah?"
"Do I have options?"
"No, you're going. That's why I didn't ask if you want to."
"Oh."
He smiled a little at your reaction, finding how flabbergasted you were quite amusing.
"I like your smile, don't hide it so I can see it more often."
"Eww, just shut up and eat you flirt." OH MY FUCKING GOD JWDKKDKFKCJFJF
"Hehe."
—To be continued....
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agnerd-bot · 1 year
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Rematch of Ragnarok Round XIII Intro:
The battlefield of the gods had been restructured yet again in the aftermath of the battle between the wicked god and damned human. Where there was once hanging skulls and pillars of bones, now there stood an arena of regality. Banners were posted at both the god and human entrances, flying majestically in the wind. On the side of the gods, red banners bearing the image of a golden sun radiating light. On the humans' side, a green and white banner bearing the image of a dragon hung in opposition to the divine sun. The arena itself was different from the simple stone and sand of the previous battles, instead being an intricate and beautiful garden, with a gentle river running between the trees, and a path throughout being paved in cobblestone. Many in the audience looked on in awe at the sheer regality that emanated from the arena, a battleground truly worthy of the divine.
In the center of the garden sat Heimdall, the steel-faced dwarf kneeling down in the midst of the garden, sipping at a cup of tea serenely. "Ahh... That hits the spot." Immediately, he hopped to his feet, holding his Gjallerhorn to his mouth as the spotlights of the arena all turned to face him. "Indeed! What a beautifully serene battleground for Ragnarok! To think that the quiet of this arena will soon be disrupted as the battle between Creator and Creation rages on! In the second half of Ragnarok, the gods were quickly able to capitalize with two vicious victories back-to-back, but a surprise shut-out lead to Humanity shattering any attempt at a winning streak! Will Mankind be able to continue pressing on this advance?! Or will the Gods take vengeance for the loss of one of their own?! Well there's only one way to find out! FIRST UP! REPRESENTING THE GODS!"
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At Heimdall's words, the sun began to shine bright over the heads of all present, man and god alike. The heavenly body's intensity was enough to nearly blind those who looked up at the sky.
"AAAAACK! MY EYES!" Goll cried out as she began to rub at her face, having been one of the many unlucky ones who found themselves staring too hard at the heavens.
"HERMES! HELP! I'M BLIIIIIIIIIIND!" Ares cried out, the bumbling god of war yelped in panic, stumbling around the gods' half of the arena while his brother merely sighed and held his face in his hands.
"When the Shinto Pantheon was young, the gods Izanami and Izanagi divided the world into three parts, one for each of their children!" As Heimdall spoke, a staircase of pure light began to form beneath the shining sun, and a pair of geta sandals began to touch down on them, the footsteps of the goddess ringing out throughout the arena. "The raging seas were gifted to the tempestuous and wild youngest brother Susanoo-no-Mikoto! The dim and mysterious nights were given to the cold and heartless middle child Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto! But the bright and joyful days, and the heavens themselves?! They fall under the reign of the eldest sister of the Three Great Kami!"
The source of the light was revealed: a shining bronze mirror that floated behind the goddess's back, gleaming with the intensity of a thousand suns. Hair as dark as pitch ran down to the small of her back, tied off into a ponytail, and upon her head was an ornate tiara that gleamed in the light her heavenly mirror produced. Draped over her body was an ornate kimono of white, gold, and red, and hanging around her neck were several jade magatama. A body and demeanor befitting the empress of the heavens.
"Haaaah… What a pain, what a pain…" a man muttered as he looked on the sight, lazily scratching the back of his head. A massive sword with several notches carved within it hung off his back and a straw hat was perched atop his messy black hair. "Just looking at her like that hurts my eyes, don't you agree, brother?" The god of the storms Susanoo-no-Mikoto turned his head towards his elder brother with a grin.
"Tch…" A second man, both hair and kimono hair of pure white, merely scoffed at the words. "Don't try acting all cool, Susanoo. You know most of all what's likely to happen in a Ragnarok like this." The god of the moon Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto stared forward at the battlefield, hand gripping his shoulder taut. "So tell me… How do you like our sister's chances here?"
"Ehhh, hard to say, Tsuki," the god of the storms muttered as he stroked his beard in thought. "Mankind's definitely got fighters that shouldn't be underestimated, you saw that for yourself. But then again… Ammy's always been full of surprises, hasn't she?"
"I thought I told you to stop giving us those inane nicknames, Susanoo."
"Must've slipped my mind, Tsuki."
"Where there is darkness in this world, she will arise to bring it to light! Where there is evil in this world, she will descend to exterminate it!" The Watchman of the Gods roared out before the arena. "Such is the way of the supreme goddess of the sun!"
The goddess of the heavens finally reached the bottom of her stairway, hand reaching downward towards her side. With a single movement, she unsheathed her weapon, an ornate blade nearly as long as she was tall. The Kusanagi no Tsurugi, the famed blade of the Supreme Ruler of Japan, gleamed like a precious jewel within the light. Despite her seemingly slight frame, the goddess swung the massive straight sword around as if it was nothing more than a simple blade of grass. As the winds and the light swirled around her, she stood, unerringly calm.
"All beings, man and god alike, bow before her majesty as she descends upon mankind to punish their heresy! Bow before her, for she is the eldest of the Three Great Kami! Bow before her, for she is the Mother of the Emperors of Japan! Bow before her, for is the Supreme Goddess of the Shinto Pantheon! BOW BEFORE HER, FOR SHE IS NONE OTHER THAN THE GREATEST GODDESS WITHIN THE HEAVENS!"
The goddess planted her blade in the garden, her hair flowing in the winds as the audience all cheered for her. She opened her eyes, revealing two golden orbs that shone with the intensity of the sun itself, as if to gaze within the sinful souls of all humanity.
Supreme Heavenly Radiance
"AMATERASU-ŌMIKAMI!"
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God's Representative
Ragnarok Round XIII
Amaterasu(Japan)
"YEAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" The side of the heavens erupted in cheers and applause upon the descent of the goddess of the sun. "Go, Amaterasu!"
"The Indomitable Sun Goddess is here!"
"Show those humans what it means to rule as a god!"
On the humans' side, several people began to pale in fear at the sight of the goddess of the sun. "S-so that's Amaterasu… They say she's a Chief God like Shiva and Zeus…"
"Can we really defeat a god as strong as that?"
"No way… There's just no way! We'd have to have an absolute monster to even think of challenging someone that strong!"
Heimdall raised his arm, immediately silencing the audience, god and man alike. All eyes were now on him as he raised his Gjallerhorn high. "And now, to introduce the human who will be challenging the Goddess of the Sun in Ragnarok!"
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RUMBLE...
"Hm?" One of the gods looked up at the sky in confusion. "What's going on…?"
DRIP… DRIP…
"…!"
"THE SUN!" the god cried out in shock. "W… WHERE DID THE SUN GO?!"
Indeed, just as quickly as the sun had arrived to shine down on the arena, so too did it disappear. Without anyone, god or man, noticing, the arena had been covered by a massive storm cloud, and rain now started to drip down on everyone present. Nearly everyone looked up to the sky in terror and fear, barely able to believe the sight before their eyes.
"No way…!"
"Did the human do this?!"
"That's impossible! This has to be a prank by Susanoo!"
Said storm god immediately got a smug smile on his face at the immediate change in weather. "Well now… This looks like it's gonna be fun!"
"Tch…" The Great Divinity Illuminating Heaven merely rolled her eyes of the dark clouds rumbling overhead, before using her mirror to dry up any raindrops that got near her. "Of course it had to be another storm-wielder…"
"The representative for mankind, aiming to blot out the Heavenly Light of Amaterasu, and rain down her vengeful thunderstorm on the sun itself!" Heimdall cried out, holding his hand up to the now-cloudy skies above. "In the eras of sword and sorcery, it is said that the most good and righteous king to have ever lived was none other than Arthur, the Once and Future King of Camelot!"
Within the stands, a man wearing chainmail armor grit his teeth at the words Heimdall spoke. "I knew it… She's the warrior the Valkyries chose to represent mankind?" The Champion of Camelot, Lancelot du Lac, snarled. "A monster who sought to destroy a perfect age of chivalry… And we are to expect her to be our hero?! And over our king, no less?!"
"Calm down, Lancelot," an older gentleman chuckled as he stroked his beard. "After all, she's fighting to save us all, is she not?" The great sage of Camelot, Merlin, looked onto the battlefield with a grin. "I must say, it is an honor to see my student on the battlefield of the gods..."
"Pah, as if I'd believe that," the knight scoffed "This has to be another of her wicked plots!"
"Perhaps, perhaps not," the brilliant wizard laughed. "But should you not follow the example of your king? What say you, Arthur?"
A blonde man, bearing a golden crown and a well-kept beard, merely sighed at the squabbling before him. King Arthur leaned back in his seat as he looked over the rumbling heavens. "I know Morgause has done us wrong… She's done all of us wrong before. But if she is fighting for mankind's salvation, then I shall not begrudge her actions. No matter how much I fear this may be another of her games…"
"But every hero must have his villain! Every righteous good shall be followed close behind by a wicked evil! Every knight will meet a dragon that he must slay! So too did Arthur's Camelot have a vicious and cruel tyrant that sought to bring it to its knees! And the monster that sought to destroy everything the King of the Britons stood for was none other than his own sister!"
Up within the black skies, a single speck of white could be seen darting about. A woman clad in white robes sat atop an ivory staff, looking down at everyone, man and god alike. Despite the raging storm, not a single drop of water so much as touched her pristine dress. She raised a single finger and pointed it down, unleashing a bolt of lightning at her opponent.
KSHHNNNG!
In one single stroke, the sun goddess split the thunderbolt in twain with Kusanagi, the two halves of the lightning arcing harmlessly behind her.
"HEY! WHAT THE HELL?!" a god roared out in outrage. "HOW DARE YOU TRY AND HIT OUR SUPREME GODDESS BEFORE THE FIGHT EVEN BEGINS?!"
"Damn humans, cheating again!"
"You're despicable! You should be disgusted you even thought of harming the Chief Goddess of Japan!"
The witch merely smiled at the boos and jeers of the crowd, eyes shining at the anger her actions incurred. "So, another perfect angel has made herself known?" she whispered to herself. "Good… I'll enjoy tearing her down and seeing her beg for my mercy…"
"Oh, brother…" a woman in black robes sighed out in exaggerated frustration as she held her hand to her face. "I shoulda known it was her when the clouds started to roll in, the big ham…"
"Well, at least we know she's still as confident as ever, right Morgan?" a younger woman replied. "I know that you, Arthur, and her all had your differences, but she's fighting to save mankind. That's got to count for something, right?"
"Fighting to save mankind… Hah!" the woman known as Morgan le Fay scoffed at the notion. "Please, Elaine… We both know that she's only in this for herself."
"Mankind forgot her in ages past, but today, she has chosen to enter the Battlefield of the Gods, and carve her name into the very souls of God and Man alike!" Heimdall roared over the crowd. "She is the Witch-Queen of Orkney! The Wicked Witch of the Medieval Age! The eldest of the three half-sisters of King Arthur! But as she aims to conquer the heavens themselves, she will etch but one name within history!"
The woman in white touched down on the ground, light as a feather, revealing a tall and elegant woman with hair as white as the clothes she wore. The witch slammed her ivory staff into the ground, stilling the rumbling heavens in a single motion. The Downfall of Camelot smiled as she looked down at her opponent with murder in her eyes and a wicked smile on her face.
Queen of Witchcraft
"MORGAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSEEEEEEEEE!!!"
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Humanity's Representative
Ragnarok Round XIII
Morgause(Wales)
The arena was silent as the two combatants stared each other down, both queens sizing the other up as everyone in the audience nervously looked at the other side.
"So… This is the Supreme Heavenly Light of Japan, hm?" the Downfall of Camelot grinned as she spun her staff around in contemplation. "Well, 'God'…"
CHAK!
Morgause pointed her staff towards Amaterasu, eyes narrowed. "Prostrate yourself and bow before me… Or die broken and beaten at my feet."
"Hmph…" While many within the godly audience flinched at the words coming from the Queen of Orkney, the sun goddess was not so easily cowed.
K-CHK!
Amaterasu raised her blade, taking a stance as she pointed the Kusanagi blade at its next victim. "You're not the first arrogant blowhard that I've put in their place. And you certainly won't be the last."
"It's Elder Sister VS Elder Sister! Queen VS Queen!" the Watchman of the Gods roared as the tension in the air reached an all-time high. "Will the Queen of Air and Shadow take home another victory for mankind and drown the light of the sun in her darkness? Or shall the Top God of Japan burn away the wickedness of humanity's most terrible witch and avenge the loss of the previous round?!" Heimdall leapt back as far as he could from the two terrifying queens, raising his hands in the air. "East VS West! Light VS Darkness! Sun VS Storms! The thirteenth round of Ragnarok will decide here and now!"
"FIGHT!"
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cheerclaw · 1 year
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Oh if u have writing prompts open u should do goosepine maybe… ty 4 the chance
Love when the old men are trans AND enby and in love
oops, sorry for having to wait, here they r, gay old man
[ Notes: Kittypet Goosepine AU bc they deserve a little calm and quiet home. ]
In a calm day in the early morning, when the sun was just threatening to rise completely, a small, luminescent and warm streak would sneak through an open curtain in the window of a house, located in a quiet neighborhood, not far from the current territory of the Clans. That small source of light was enough to reveal a fraction of dark gray tufts of messy, tangled fur, something immediately starts to stir in the messy pile. A blue eye is opened in the pile of fur, mutterings of irritation can be heard, the tiny strand of light was enough to irritate the cat, Goosefeather, who was now known around the neighborhood by his kittypet name, Grumpy, shameful indeed, but some brat named him so it wasn't a real big deal.
His eyes could barely stay open, but the chances of him going back to sleep were minimal, so the best choice was already start his daily routine, moving his old muscles to get an ideal stretch, he ends up getting distracted and takes up all the space of his bed, moving back a little and stepping on the tail of the other cat that accompanied him in his sleep, Pine, formerly known as Pinestar, the cat who was damn lucky to have his name almost intact while I have mine fully changed name, ridiculous. They promptly woke up alert and startled from the sudden weight and pain in their tail. His stutter was loud enough to wake up an entire block, an unnecessary fiasco in the opinion of his partner who just scowled at him.
"WHaH- What happened?? I was having a wonderful dream and suddenly a dead weight fell on my tail." Pine said in a plaintive, exaggerated meow, drawing out his speech as they tried to straighten up to look directly at the other cat and started licking itself when it did.
"Just an accident, crybaby, no need to get so worked up over something so small, besides I didn't step that hard you're just very sensitive Pine." Goosefeather replied in a grunt as he rolled his eyes and turned his back, already going to toward the kibble bowl that was overflowing with food. Quickly, in one jump, Pine stopped his shower and went to accompany his partner to breakfast.
"Ahh, don't be so stupid with me Goose, I can assure you it wouldn't hurt to be a little more sensitive to your favorite cat, maybe even a nickname? You know, things friends do." Pine nudged the other's shoulder as he spoke With the greatest calm in the world, Goosefeather stopped abruptly and looked again into his partner's face.
"Pine, we've been married 20 feline years, are you an idiot?"
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Candles and Broomsticks
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"Tell me Elizabeth, how come it's taking so long for any of the children to be baptized?"
Lizzie causally sipped her tea as she speaks with a visit of one of the "mother friends" she "made" over the one year Bella attend a special school. "Well me and my husband never really thought to baptized Bella. And Albert, Anthony, and Rachel just aren't cause Ciel and his wife chose not to. It's not the end of the world." The red head huffs and fans her fan near her face, her long lashes fluttering as her blue gems roll. She is a opposite of Lizzie you see, from her hair to her sharp facial features compared to Lizzie's soft, to her outfit that isn't so cute and mature as Lizzie's but more tight formal that shows she's a prize of the doctor she wedded. Her name is Lady Lenora Bell, wife of a Lord Doctor Arthur Bell, and has a daughter Bella's age named Marge who's just like her mother and not in the pleasant way Lizzie would've hoped.
It still boggles her mind how she wound up accepting her into her home.
"On a off topic, is your husband arriving for the party? I heard some gossip on it while I was in London." Asked Lenora with a smile of her dark red lipstick. Lizzie's heart fluttered in her chest as she smiles and speaks, "Yes, of course my darling husband will attend. This is a very special day for him after all."
Indeed, just down the road is a carriage being driven by the Phantomhive's chef and most special butler in the spring air. "Ahh, can't wait to pick up my lil Amelia." Said Bard after taking a large breath in the spring air. Sebastian chuckles beside him, "You saw her last week. Though I do agree with your words Bardroy."
Inside the carriage are a total of five adults and five children who sit excited, a little girl's legs kick in her seat as she giggles. "I take it you're excited Rachel?" Asked a boy with dark wisps of black hair that cover his ears, skin a pale smooth beige, and big lovely brown eyes behind brown ribbed thin glasses dressed nicely in a white button up and brown slacks with suspenders to match and a black coat over it. Rachel giggles and nods happily, causing her parents to smile.
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The scent of yummy food and sweet cakes fills the senses of everyone, the sounds of music and happy voices fells the ears of everyone. The party was in full bliss and there wasn't a singe frown upon a face. Beside the desert table stands Bella, her long black hair in waves down her back with a lovely blue gem necklace draped around her neck tightly dressed in a lovely gown that brings a gentle glow of her pale skin and a pop of her emerald eyes. With her are many teens her age dressed all lovely as well with happy smiles and sparkling eyes. "Wow Bella, the dress is so pretty!" "Thank you. My father and our tailor helped make it."
Across the way in the ballroom stands Ciel and a man whom he hasn't seen in a long while, a Chinese man dressed in emerald greens and sparkling golds. Lau brought his glass to his lips and took a sip of his shiny golden drink before speaking, "My my, doesn't that dress look familiar. At least the fabrics. Perhaps a certain party connected to a case?" The Earl chuckles softly yet meekly, "Thank goodness that dress is being used for better use." The two were interrupted by a beauty, a man with fair blond hair long and tied in a small pony tail and skin a pale peach color with beautiful crimson eyes, dressed in a formal dark green suit with a beautiful sapphire blue cummerbund. "Oh Joanne!"
Joanne smiles in return and spoke, "How are you, we haven't seen each other since Christmas." "I've been doing well, and you?" "Very well." Suddenly, Ciel paused, "If you're here than certainly so is-" He turns his body and quickly grabs hold of two children, one girl who's 7 and a boy who's 9, one girl with shoulder long black hair and big green eyes of emerald blue and a button nose booped with flushed blush and freckles and a boy with the same shade of black short hair and big brown eyes. "Hi uncle Ciel!" Ciel chuckles and hugs them tightly, his voice dipped in a childish way, "You were sneaking up on your dear uncle weren't you??"
Odin and Violet Sullivan-Harcourt, sweetest little angels you'll ever meet everyone will claim. Over the years it came a shock to the Phantomhive household to hear Joanne Harcourt was interested in courting the very lovely mad genius she is of Sieglinde Sullivan, the German girl Ciel and Sebastian took in and funded for everything she needed.
"My what adorable children you have Sir Harcourt."
The three adults and two children stop and look at Mrs Lenora walking over with a wine glass in one hand now wearing a lovely robin blue dress that tightly hugs the cleavage. With a hum she leans down to look at the children more after Ciel stood up straight, "Such adorable children indeed. Though, I must say Miss Violet's eyes are a surprise twist." The man looks at his school friend as he looks to his children and smile softly, "Yes, well, it's a family trait." He pauses. "Well, that is to say from my family. My grandmother was rumored to have such lovely blue eyes." Though he smiles, Ciel can sense Joanne's shift of things. A shift he's familiar well. A shift to never be truly honest.
A big thing of change over time was Ciel, and not just him marrying and having children, he is no longer a boy seeking revenge but instead a man though wounded accepts life's odd path of surprises. With him in that change was a familiar face, a mirror face if you will, of his brother from the dead away from the decaying fire and memories. It was a begging plea of Undertaker after his madness parade of cheating death and justice finally ended for Ciel and Sebastian to please keep him living until his final breath when Sebastian devours his soul with his wife's. It wasn't easy at first, framing your brother for murder can do that to you, but over time the two found peace. Hell, with help from Sieglinde they found a way to help him age normally with his healthy way of blood transfusion. And along that time the girl and boy simply grew close. Maybe it was the sense of unable to move about freely or books, who knows, what they do know is the two are very close, two souls as one. Around this time was when Joanne began to express courting her. You can ask anyone and you'll get a different story how the three came to be with a public wedding of Joanne and Sieglinde and then a secret wedding of Sieglinde and the forgotten twin, but the answer is the same.
No one knows the truth of Violet's true father.
Ciel glanced to his left and smiled at Xiu talking with two girls, one 8 year old with long straight brown hair and brown eyes and one smaller sized 7 year old with long thick curly dark brown hair and big brown eyes with small speckles of green if you look closely, and smiles. Amelia, the daughter of Midford's maid Paula and the Phantomhive's chef Bardroy. Mariposa, the daughter of Phantomhive's lovely gardener Finnian and his lovely wife Valentina.
"Why invite servants children to such a party? They'll bring the mood down."
That sentence snaps Ciel out his thoughts as he turned to Lenora, but before he could snap at her she has walked away giggling. "You know, I don't quite like her my Lord." Said Lau with venom dripping from his words.
The room fell silent with the sound of a gentle tap of a glass, making everyone turn their heads to the direction of the noise to the handsome man with dark hair combed back wearing a white suit with a dark purple pink cummerbund and matching tie with a pearl broach clipped to the center, holding a glass of wine in one hand and holding Lizzie dressed in a lovely red dress of black lace beside him. "Thank you all for coming to the birthday celebration of Lizzie's and I's lovely daughter Bella. Thirteen years ago today my life was simple darkness until she came into the world and lit it up as the stars in the sky. A light I never realized I needed until the day came." Said he as he looks to Bella who smiles bashfully. Hannah leans to Angela, both dressed in dark purples and whites, and whispers, "How much do you want to bet someone will start crying?" This earned a giggle in which she smiles. After a moment, a large cake of four lairs coated in candles gets carted in by the Phantomhive servants and the kitchen staff of the Midford manor, stopping right by the girl in pink. With her smiling softly everyone began to sing, some singing in different languages, but not one person can copy the look of warmth that Sebastian holds as he watches her. Within a blink he sees the image of him holding a small infant girl crying before coming back to view to see Bella blow her candles out firmly.
It's strange, demons shouldn't cry, but he can feel his eyes grow misty since her birth.
Offical part three of my current fics of my Black Butler Next Gen AU for @nullb1rdbones, @annoyinglyshinycherryblossom, @sebalizzie, @docmartensanddietcoke, and @onehellofashadynerd
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
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sarahkateishii · 1 year
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The Children who will Never Grow Up- Chapter 1
The turn of the dawn hailed the lamplighters to snuff out the dimming lantern flames, revealing a slow crack of pale light peeping over the dense rooftops. The quiet whistling of an exhausted policeman echoed down the street, minutes away from the end of his night-long plod. Silent tension as the citizens of London strained for every last minute of sleep before daylight awoke them for the full day of toil that faced them when morning came. Yawning widely, the noble bobby turns a corner and scuffs his boot carelessly. Groaning and bending to observe his boots for damage, it took him longer than it should have to register the grim scene just ahead of him. For, in this wealthy street of high end town houses it was rare for gory happenings. Yet, in front of him, in the small garden of a wealthy townhouse, bloodied and misshapen, twisted and contorted out of natural form and already set in the cruel statue-like grasp of rigor mortis, were the helpless bodies of three children. There they lay, barefoot and dressed in their high-quality nightgowns, a picture of tainted innocence. The fatigued policeman, still not fully comprehending the incident in front of him for the hopes it weren’t true, stared upwards at the open bedroom window 3 floors higher than he. Eyes opening wide, he raises his whistle shakily to his now-dry lips to call an alert.
***
Chapter One
“Murder in Arlington Street! Read all abou’ it!” crowed newsboys, vying for customers and battling to be the boy to sell the most of the latest news event. “Come get your paper ‘ere!”
A sullen, suited man tossed a coin at the scruffy hawker and crammed the rolled paper into his large overcoat pocket. Then, stuffing his hat firmer onto his head he stalked off towards the police station, throwing open the front door and marching up the old, well-trodden, wooden stairs to his tiny office.
“Mornin’ chief!” a gangly officer cried up at him from the bottom of the stairs, a cheerful newcomer to the local station who was always eager to present himself for each part of the job. The detective grunted back, and slammed his newly purchased paper on to his chaotic desk, slumping into his seat and grudgingly running his eyes over the print to find out what nonsense the vultures in the print room had leaked.
“Suspect? Indeed!” He tutted, “We know nothing! Keep yer scroungin’ claws to yourself!”
Frustrated, he slammed the paper back on to his desk, which was closely followed by his own forehead. It had been a mere two days since the death of the three Beechworth children and, as ever, the press were giving neither time nor mercy before offering their own exaggerated and biased opinion on the matter- causing more grief for the detective and his team. He ran his hand over the rough stubble forming on his chin. He’d not been home since their death, barely rested, barely washed save for splashing water from the sink over his weary face. What would his wife think if she knew the unkempt state he was in now? The nagging he would face- no longer like the days of gleeful courting when they first met and when she had only words of loving praise for him …
“Ahh! Detective! Wonderful to see you. Any news on this terrible case?”
The detective shifted his gaze to glare upwards at the unwelcome guest invading his small office and shattering his nostalgic daydreams.
“What’d yer want, Chattoway? The scraps of carrion you consider newsworthy print material to stir up the population of London against me?” The man stood in front of him was the very man renowned for leaking morsels of information to the press for beer and favours. He was a weasel of a man who always butted in where he wasn’t welcome, and he certainly wasn’t welcome in the detective’s office. Not now nor any other time.
“Come now, Devitt, you can’t be bitter at a man for sharing with the world what they have the right to know! No, in fact, the mayor himself, upon reflection of this morning’s news, would like to meet with you immediately. Brush yourself up, man!” With the final announcement, Chattoway smartly nodded his head and spun out of the small doorway. Devitt scowled, wondering which officer was naïve enough to let that man into his office. Brush up, indeed!
“You try keeping smart when the three children of a famous politician have all mysteriously died by falling out of their third story room!” He growled to no one, kicking his chair out of the way as he stomped to the clouded-over mirror over the basin in the corner of his office. Devitt shuddered, remembering his own visit to the scene: seeing the distorted bodies of the children and hearing their mother and nanny still wailing with disbelieving misery. The memory that chilled the detective the most, however, had been the odd look of gleeful wonder on the children’s faces. Surely, if it had been murder, this would not be their final expression- but instead, one of utter horror? Shaking the scarring memory from his immediate thoughts, Devitt splashed water to his dust-smudged face and tried to flatten back his thick, dark hair. He sighed to himself as he saw streaks of grey appearing above his ears. This job aged a man young, he thought to himself before snarling at his attempted vanity and stalking out of the small room. Maybe some time ago he could have thought of his appearance, but not so any more. The mayor would have to cope with this current state.
***
“Chief, how good of you to join us at such short notice. Please, sit.” London city’s mayor briefly acknowledged Devitt as he was ushered into the room by a secretary, then returned his gaze to the guest sat with his back to the door. Devitt approached the indicated chair before noticing that he recognised the smartly dressed man sat conversing with the mayor. The man’s steely eyes slid gracefully to glance over the rugged detective and smirked.
“Morning, Detective. Have you found who crudely murdered my children yet?”
Devitt’s breath caught in his throat and he found himself hovering in the motion between standing and sitting as he stared at the exceedingly well-dressed father of the murder victims. He closed his eyes and finally sat heavily into the second arm chair. That damned Chattoway never mentioned that Beechworth would also be attending the meeting. He was ashamed to have to admit that he had learned nothing extra to tell the man.
“Now, please do excuse me for calling in on your meeting with the mayor unannounced. However, once I had heard he had requested a meeting with you this morning, I couldn’t help but to invite myself. Having read the wild stories the press is printing, rather than hearing it straight from you, I must inquire as to what you are doing to find the madman that murdered my children. I do hope you understand.”
“Indeed…” Devitt growled, twisting to accept a dainty cup of tea handed to him by the mayor’s secretary. He couldn’t help but stare for a moment at the pristine white gloves of the man, and wondered at the different conditions in which people worked. He felt even more conscious of his unkempt state from the last few days- the quick wash had removed very little of the dust and grime from his face, and he was more than certain his smell was no better. He turned back to look at Beechworth, noting how the man held himself incredibly upright, perfect posture with a hint of lean gracefulness. Even the way he rested his chin on his hand and held the tiny china teacup with his long, thin fingers gave an appearance of feline delicacy, yet this delicacy was what made the man look so dangerous. The grace was unnatural for men of his type.
Politicians… Devitt groaned to himself. They play a dangerous game of twisted half-truths and mind games, and they all think they’re better than any regular citizen of this country. This was the last thing I needed today- a game of cat and mouse with the father of the victims.
Yet, he smiled politely to Beechworth and took a sip of his tea, privately wishing it were larger and stronger- perhaps even a stronger type of drink altogether. He knew who was the mouse in this situation.
“My team are working around the clock to investigate your family’s tragedy, Sir. We have already reached the conclusion that the culprit cannot have come in through any of the lower entries to the property. The only answer is that they entered through the children’s window, and left the same way too. However, there are no marks or footprints in the vicinity and no easy way of actually getting to the window from below. There are no ways to reach the third floor from the outside of the building. It is just too high. This is the first thing we need to discover before we can find anything more about the mysterious killer, if we could only think of a motive…”
He trailed off as he noticed Beechworth rise smoothly from the chair and stride languidly over to the window. He seemed to be watching something beyond the glass when he finally spoke, keeping his back to the two men in the room.
“I am surprised to find you have not thought of the most obvious motive. In a mere few weeks the election will take place to determine who will become the next prime minister. I am a key candidate and this must be a rouse to scare me and ruin my campaign. It is true that this disgusting act of murder against my children has unsettled my wife and me. She remains beyond solace and I see their lifeless, glassy faces each time I close my eyes,” He paused for a moment, as if regaining his composure, “Yes, sleep is a fearful affair of late. But, it has made me all the more determined to rebel against their motive and continue in the race. Detective, tomorrow evening an electoral party will be held where all candidates of the upcoming election will be in attendance. I believe the one responsible for murdering my children will be there with the intent to cause harm to myself or my wife in retaliation to my refusal to leave the campaign. I insist you provide us with protection throughout the party. I will not have my wife harmed over this. I cannot lose anyone else I love, and you may even catch your killer there.”
Devitt and the mayor both looked at each other, carefully assessing each other’s thoughts on the matter.
“Well there we have it, man!” The mayor exclaimed, “Keep an eye out for the Beechworths at this party. You and your team should have no problem with that. With any luck the killer will be caught in full sight of both public and press within the next evening or so! Let’s catch this man before any further harm comes to the people of London.”
Beechworth turned and slid his glance over Devitt again, revealing a cold smile. “Don’t fail me, detective. I still expect you to fully discover how the murderer entered the room of my children without being noticed. A chief inspector should have no trouble with that.” He smirked and bid them good day, striding neatly out of the room.
“Well, that’s sorted then. Here’s the information for the party, I will also be in attendance so if you need me, send a runner inside with your message.” The mayor handed Devitt a slip and moved to sit behind his desk, suggesting an immediate end to their meeting. Devitt folded and pocketed the paper and gladly left the room, nodding to the secretary as he rushed to leave the building and reluctantly return to the station to make plans for the next evening.
Seems I won’t be returning home just yet. Dejected, he thought of Martha, his wife, and his own children. His feelings for his own family spurred him on to find the killer before someone else lost theirs.
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monicahar · 2 years
Text
 Soul-bound in Pages
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characters; kazuha, scaramouche, xiao
; disney x genshin! au, fem! reader
soul-bound in pages | the red string extends (in writing!)
in a desperate search for your destined one, you adapt your longing for love into an obsession with an otome game; Genshin Tales: Medieval Romance. How’d you stoop so low to find yourself at fictional men’s knees, you don’t know. But amidst your constant drooling towards them, somehow, you were transported in the game, and now you must tread each route to reach the eventual endgame—pick one of the guys and leave this goddamn game.
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Kazuha — 🍁
Hair Sways with the Wind (Tangled)
Let your power shine,
Flower, gleam and glow,
You hear her start to hum a song, brushing your hair with the grip as light as a feather, as if she's handling the most brittle glass known to man.
Make the clock reverse,
Gaze shifting towards the mirror in front of you, you silently watch as your long locks emit a sun-like glow, reveling in the sight despite having seen it ever since you were young years ago. The wrinkled lady behind you also seems to enjoy the sight, then she closes her eyes, long lashes brushing on her cheeks as she feels power surge through from your strands to her veins.
Bring back what once was mine...
Heal what has been hurt,
Her grayish-sliver hair starts to change into a beautiful shade of purple, strand by strand; pore by pore, her face also transforms into a youthful appearance, as if she wasn't an old lady in the first place.
Change the Fates' design,
Save what has been lost,
Her lashes flutter as she blinks her eyes open, staring at her own reflection in the mirror. Piercing magenta eyes stare back, before it slowly hues back down to her normal dark violet orbs.
Bring back what once was mine,
"You really like that song, don't you, Mom?" You softly ask as you stare at her piercing gaze through the reflection of the piece of glass.
What once was mine...
"Of course." came her quiet reply as she wraps her arms around your shoulders, placing her chin at the crook of your neck. "You and that song are closest things I have to eternity after all."
Your instincts told you not to question what she meant by eternity, so you focus on the task at hand instead. Taking note of her good mood, maybe she'll finally allow you to go outside and explore all those places you've dreamed of witnessing by your two eyes, considering you're aging 18 soon. Ahh...the first thing I'd visit is probably where those stars come from, or whatever they are...
"No."
Your back immediately stiffens at the cold response. It's the same response as always. You sigh as she starts one of her long scoldings about how the world outside is a dangerous place. Giant bugs, plants that can eat you, men with long fangs..."Yes, yes. I understand. But I can protect myse-"
"Shush." She places a nimble finger on your lips, effectively making it close upon the touch.
"No, you don't understand. So I'll make this clear—" Her other hands palms your cheek in endearing circles, completely contrasting her current expression of complete madness lying underneath her bewitching magenta irises. "Don't ask me that, ever again."
»»»
"C'mon man, can you get any quicker!?" A gruff voice reaches his tuned ears, making him release a small chuckle as he climbs the two men's shoulders, bypassing the cliff they've encountered as a dead end.
Once he steps up the rocky formation, one of the guys holds out a hand, "Now help us up, pretty boy."
Carmine hues blink in faux surprise, before creeping a small smirk onto his soft features as he holds up a certain satchel. "Pardon me, gentlemen. As you can see, my hands are quite full."
The young lad watches in amusement as the buff men start searching for their satchel, only to confirm that the sly boy had indeed taken the bag. "KAEDEHARA!"
The said boy then immediately stands up, before running deeper into the forest, quickly picking up the heavy hoof stomps coming his direction. The trees made it quite hard for him to see exactly how many they were, but judging from the waves that travel to his ears, it's probably four to five.
The voices of the soldiers and their horses slowly drown out as he gets deeper into the woods, swiftly making his through the green scenery with ease.
"We must retrieve the crown at any cost!" A woman's voice heeds his volatile ears. Kujou Sara. He slightly clenches his jaw at the familiar voice. She's really persistent, huh.
Did i lose them...? He internally questions, slipping through a bundle of roots, before coming face to face with a horse, effortlessly halting him on his tracks, stopping just right at its snout.
Huh...? He awkwardly stares at horse's rough expression. It looks quite angry...wait, isn't this that general’s stallion?
The man had no time to think as the horses suddenly tries to bite the satchel he holds, but his reflexes takes it away from the clenching jaw in an instant. The stallion immediately tries to snatch it again, making the thief stumble back as he tired to hold out the piece of leather, but instead, his shoe gets in the way of a foreign rock, inevitably making him fall on his bosom as the satchel gets thrown at the edge of a bonsai tree hanging from the edge.
The two subsequently scramble towards the bag, making the tree overwhelmed by the sudden weight as it creaked. The young lad’s hand tightly gripped the satchel’s strap, saving it from falling into oblivion.
crack.
The horse and silver-haired man stare at each other, before all hell breaks loose as the tree snaps in half, inevitably letting the two plummet into the misty void.
Well, it’s not really a void. It’s fundamentally a layer of cloud that surrounded the steep, and rigid cliff. But nonetheless, the man in maple clothing had gotten quite lucky, considering he had landed on a plethora of bushes, effectively reducing the amount of pain and wounds he could’ve otherwise gotten.
He makes haste as he shoots up, no time to waste dwindling on the sudden luck on his side as that horse probably also survived the fall someone like he, a mere human did.
As the man was scampering to find a place to hide out in the mean time, his senses pick up a strange movement of the wind in the air. His ruby eyes dart towards the direction of said movement, which was just an overgrown rock wall...or was it?
His bandaged hand slowly reaches to touch the wall, but much to his surprise, his hand goes through the said wall. It was a thick line of vines and bushes.
Stomping hooves headed his way made him jump as he entered the wall of leaves, his feet taking him further inside this hidden cave, until light shone at the end of the tunnel, enticing him to come forth.
The end of the tunnel reveals an enormous space of land with fully grown trees swaying along the wind and grass as soft-looking as fluffy pillow, but what immediately catches his eyes was the lofty tower made of coble and fine woodwork standing proud amidst the scenery, and the first thought that came to him was shelter.
His steps halt at the foot of the towering building, following with his hands bringing out a pair of arrows from the archers that tried to arrest him, and uses them as climbing picks to ascend the tower.
Worn-out boots kick the window open upon his arrival at the sill, immediately entering in the warmth the place provided. The place seems to be well-kept, and he hears a breath within the walls, but before he tried to find the owner of the disrupted home, his calloused fingers seize the satchel from his side, relief immediately flooding his self, his distressed posture becoming a little slumped from the lack of burden.
This is quite a fortunate turn of events...now back to the other person in here-
Clang-!
The male promptly blacked out and collapsed on the concrete floor, a small squeak escaping a girl’s lips as she conceals herself behind a mannequin with trembling ankles. An iguana peaks out from behind her shoulder, also shaken by the fact that they had gotten broken in.
The feminine frame slowly peeks out behind the model of was, before slowly looming nearer to the man’s wiry physique, her palms quiver as she pokes the handle of the pan she’s holding towards the side of is face, paranoid if the lad somehow wakes up.
He doesn’t. But his chest slowly goes up and down, indicating that he’s only knocked out and not actually dead. 
A sigh escapes her lips as she doesn’t have to clean up a corpse, but...!
Her pan’s handle moves up to stretch his jaw, to which—unveils nothing but pearly white teeth. 
 It’s not a man with long fangs...? Her gaze raises to meet her green friend’s small orbs, to which it shrugs back, equally confused as the girl.
Her gaze returns to the man's body laying on the ground, before taking a deep breath at what she's planning to do.
»»»
A slick sound rouses hazy red hues from its slumber, before catching at the corner of his peripheral—a reptile sticking its slimy tongue out to his ear.
He jumps in surprise, shaking the iguana off—but the involuntary movement causes him to let out a confused huff as he looks down at the limbs he couldn't move an inch with.
Hair.
"H-how did you find me?" a girl's voice reaches his earshot, his gaze shooting up to look at the girl secluded in the shadows of the roof. Her words were a bit off but she still managed to pull off a dominant and interrogating voice.
"...oh. Uhm, pardon my rudeness but," The man tied up with unnecessarily long hair contemplates his next words, "I don't believe I know you."
The girl returns silence, before sighing in an exasperated way, concluding that she's indeed, annoyed. "Oh? Then mind telling me why you specifically came here? Not even the most sensitive beasts have interrupted the land around this tower."
Beasts...? The lad ponders, wondering what kind of books this girl has been reading up here. "Miss, please listen, I'm just a mere passerby-"
The girl sudden drops down from the post she was perching on, slowly nearing his tied up self, "No mere passerby can just walk in here blindly, especially considering why you have a crown in that bag of yours, and the fact that it doesn't suit you at all."
A slight wince was his response as he internally laughs at the sudden jabs to his pride, but all his thoughts were cut as the girl emerges from the shadows of the candlelit room, finding her way more stunning than any noble woman he'd stolen from.
As alluring as a rose, persona as fierce as a the blazing sun—eyes as luminescent as a mirror returning the sunshine of daylight, along the smooth and luscious strands of her locks and—
"Who...are you?" her voice wakes him out of his trance.
A gulp is all he could muster in this rather dire situation, he can't just ask the wind for help, can he? "...Kazuha."
A nudge from her pan told him that she knew there was more to it than meets the eye. She probably saw that wanted poster of him in the satchel.
"—Kaedehara..." His eyes instantly widen at the realization.
An amused glint dances in the eyes of the adolescent lady, watching him fumble around as his eyes dart everywhere for his satchel.
"Where's the satchel?" He proceeds with a calm facade, despite the obvious panic in his eyes.
Crossing her arms, she smugly raises her chin, "I've hidden it. Somewhere you'll never find it."
Kazuha gives another look towards his surroundings, before returning his sight towards her as he nods to a corner. "It's in that vase, am i wrong?"
Clang—!
A groan leaves his lips, finding himself waking up once again to a tongue in his ear, quickly shrugging off the reptile as he looks at the girl again, who was now way closer than before.
"Now, I've hidden it—somewhere you'll never find it."
Kazuha deeply takes a breath, before exhaling all the will inside him, giving up at the stubbornness of the girl. "What is it that you want from me?"
The girl now smiles giddily, juggling her pan as she says, "I'm glad you asked! Now, look here." Her small hands pull the curtains back from atop the fireplace she just climbed on, revealing a graffiti painting of the so-called stars that always appeared on her birthday. "Do you know what this is?"
"The lantern lights?" He lets out a hum, "Sure, they're very nice to marvel at, but what about them?"
I knew they weren't stars! The girl smiles at her small victory, before plopping back down in front of Kazuha. "You want your precious satchel back, right?"
"..." His silence deemed her to continue, a sweat drop sliding down his forehead as he thinks about all the possibilities she could ask him to do for his bountiful loot.
"I want you to take me to see those lights."
The man in red blinks in surprise. He never expected such a simple request. "Am I allowed to ask why that specifically?"
"You see..." Her optimism drops down, confusing the man even more, "I've never actually stepped foot out of this tower, and if there's something I've always to see—it's these lights." She takes a deep breath, releasing all her troubles to a man she just met, "Those, lanterns, as you call them, always appear on my birthday. Something constantly tells me that those lights, are somehow affiliated with me, so I've always desired to venture out and see them up-close, and learn the truth behind the scenery."
The lack of response from Kazuha gets her out of her damped mood, immediately exclaiming, "D-don't worry though! I have full intention to return your bag, so please, just do this for me, then after all that—we can just forget everything that happened."
A hearty chuckle leaves his lips, "Yes. I understand," His gaze cornered her in a dome of butterflies effectively making her shut up and burn away in that said corner, "Consider it a deal."
It’s not good to trust strangers so easily, but hey, what could such a petite girl do to him? An experienced thief of jewels and not getting caught even once. Call it the wind’s guidance, but something else seems to propel Kazuha to the girl. 
His ears pick up on her loneliness that stands in her heart.
Was it his empathy that forced him to stay? 
His unvoiced question is left unanswered when in astonishment of the adventure, she laughs back, a hearty one at that. "Well, I hope we'll work well together, Kaedehara Kazuha."
"And you're...?"
Silence gags her throat for a moment, feeling awkward that she didn't tell him until now. "...[Name]."
"Well, nice to meet you, [Name]."
Nothing can go wrong right? It's just simple date, as the book calls these type of hangouts, and we can both can go our merry ways! She thinks as she untangles her hair from his body.
—right...?
Scaramouche — 🐸
A Slimy Sneer (The Princess and the Frog)
Once upon a time, a young princess yearned to feel love. Her upbringing as a strictly trained royalty has always gotten in the way of her preserving of friends, so she thought of something else instead.
Her parents had always forced her to go on dates with snobby and bratty princes, which always got her in a damped mood, ruining her day entirely, but despite all of those disastrous hang-outs, she still held hope—Hope for one day that she'd finally meet her knight and shining armor.
Being so desperate for a proper romance, she prayed at the stars every night, for them to bless her with a man she can truly love.
But one night, a frog had hopped inside her room as she was doing calligraphy practice—starting her whole being when it suddenly talks.
The princess, being a polite and kind person, listened to the frog's worries despite her underlying fear of the talking creature. When the frogs mentions the he was a prince from a far away land, her eyes light up, is this finally it?
"Here comes my favorite part..." A little girl with lavish purple hair in twin tails whispers to your ear, looking all homely in her little gown made my your mother—who continued to read out the story,
"And in just the moment, the ugly little frog looked up with his sad, round eyes—and then pleaded, “Oh please princess. Only a kiss from you would break this terrible spell that was inflicted on me, by wicked witch.” —and then-"
"—The beautiful princess was so moved by his desperate plea, that she stooped down, took the slippery creature in her palms, hunched over, brought it closer to her lips, and kissed the little frog."
The little girl next to you squeals in excitement as you gurgled out loud, visibly disgusted at the depicted action, even though it was just a silly bedtime story.
"The spell was then dispersed, turning the frog into a handsome prince. They got married, and lived happily ever after. The end." Your mother shut the book, causing your vociferous friend to whine out in agony.
"Read it again!"
"Sorry sweetheart," The lady stands up as she starts packing her sewing materials up, "But me and my [Name] have to head back home for tonight." she winks your direction, "Say goodnight, darling."
"There is no way," your little arms crossed themselves as you start, "I would ever, ever, ever, and I mean never—! Kiss myself a frog."
You could probably make a list with the reasons you heavily dislike frogs. Gooey, weird bloating bodies, creepy back hinds—
You immediately stand upon to run away, "Eek! No!"
Mona smirks to herself, before dragging out, "Is thaaat soo...?"
She brings out a small frog hoodie and tackles her kitten with it, bringing it up to your small and chubby face as she cooed, "C'mon! Kiss the frog! Haha!"
»»»
That memory of yours is still as fresh as a harvested fruit of a newly risen spring season, making you smile for the recall, but the bittersweet reminiscence forever stays as a memory as it spirals down to this nightmare called reality you're currently in—you've just been outbid by some stacked aristocrat for the restaurant building you and your father had waited and saved years for!
A solemn sigh is all you could muster as you the reality of the predicament sunk in. One of your hands gripped the dress you borrowed from Mona, since your old outfit had gotten drenched after dropping the tray earlier in shock when the sellers of the building announced the news to you.
Your mind wanders back to the fairy tale of your childhood, wondering if it actually works. Begrudgingly standing up from the bed, you walk towards the balcony, the moonlight has a contrast to your dress, making this dreaded scene somehow quite magical.
"I can't believe I'm doing this." An exhale escapes your lips as you think how pathetic you probably look right now to the moon. Such a desperate girl seeking help out from the stars, just because of a damned fairy tale. Well, you have nothing to lose in making a wish, right?
You stared at the sky, pleading inside your mind for the opportunity to reverse time just by a little bit, just so you could gain back the dream you have now lost just because of some snobs, despite being so close to achieving it.
"Please..."
A few seconds passed, and no sign of any reply. What did you even expect anyway? Distressed, your hands reach up to rub your temples and leaning towards the balcony's edges, your eyes landing beside you—where which a frog sat on quietly.
The mucus-covered creature reminded you of the fairy tale yet again. Didn't the Prince also show up like this?
Your stare at the frog held on for quite a while, silently wishing the frog would go away and leave you to sulk about your lifelong dream being taken away.
However, it doesn't even budge.
"What? You want a kiss now?"
"No, thanks." It scoffs
Huh?
"What the-" You squeal in shock and fear as you quickly stumbled back to the room, your back hitting a shelf and resulting in the books falling from their respective places, landing on your back in the process.
Your consciousness abandons you for a moment, before recollecting yourself as you groan out loud, finding the collision quite painful—but the pain quickly gets subdued when the current situation dawns upon you.
A t-talking...frog...
"What the hell was up with that reaction?
...and it's a rude one.
Your gaze shoots up when the little green creature hops towards your direction, your body instinctively grabbing the nearest object—which was a book.
"Stay away!" You yell, before hurling the book towards the frog, to which it barely dodged, thanks to its clunky-hopping nature.
Your palm immediately reaches for the next closest object, before it also yells back—
"Can you calm down for a minute?!" It hops on a nearby desk before adding on with a mumble, "I suppose I should introduce myself first..."
The object you're about to launch raises itself. You visibly find his words more threatening than before.
"I'm Scaramouche," He coughs, trying to seem polite but ultimately fails, "Prince of Inazuma."
Your mind goes back to the one who was just dancing with Mona a few minutes ago, before growing more suspicious of the frog, "What a fraud! Then who was dancing in the ball downstairs?"
"Oh, that book." He suddenly points out the objects in your hand, "Can you bring it here for a moment?"
A perplexed look etches itself on your face, before you slowly slip the book onto the desk he stands on, quickly retracting your hand when he kicks the book open, flipping through the pages.
The clock on the wall ticks for a few, before he suddenly lets out a small scoff, which piques your curiosity at what got his attention among the pages.
"Ah."
He raises a brow at your direction, before impatiently asking, "Your reactions are so boring, it's almost funny in a way."
With a twitch at your eye lid, your body turns to fully face him, "Don't talk about it being funny when you're a literal frog, your highness." You know he picked up on the condescending tone as his scowl brings momentary satisfaction to you, turning the corners of your lips upwards, before returning to the page he's currently on.
The art of the Princess kissing the frog in the book throws you into a blank state, a bit disgusted at what he's trying to imply as he pointed at the image, his small eyes looking up and down at your royal get-up gown, "I think you know what to do now, Princess."
"No, no, no, NO!" You step back, taking a good look at the frog, "There's no way I’m doing that, besides, I'm not even a princ-"
"Shush. Just do it." He's quite demanding despite being the smaller one. You were just trying to say you weren't a princess, sigh.
"Hmph. There's nothing in it for me, so no."
He throws his head back as he suddenly erupts in laughter, "Hah. If that's what you wanted from the start, then just say the word." his fit dies down as he adds on with a frown, "After you, ugh—kiss me, I'll seal the marriage with that wealthy and annoyingly loud friend of yours, which will get my mother to acknowledge me again and give me my share of the heritance back."
Your ears perked at his plan, immediately grasping his plan; but you were still quite unhinged about one part, "Huh? Why did she cut you off in the first place?"
"I give you the authority to choose whatever you want in exchange, then you ask about that?" he sighs, "You wouldn't make a good queen if you're this trivial." he ignores your offended look as he starts to explain,
"She wanted me to find a “woman I'd love to be with for an eternity”. Does such a person even exist to match my outstanding greatness?” He waits for a response, but you seemingly didn’t have any intention to say anything so he answers it himself, “I don't think so, but she thought otherwise then told me she'll be cutting my allowance off until I find this “significant other” of mine."
"Wouldn't she find out immediately that you don't like Mona at all?"
"Then I'll act like I do. I wasn't the Kabuki Theatre's prodigy for nothing." A smirk creeps on his face, obviously boasting his talent for opera and acting.
You gawk at his strange situation. Only one thing in your mind as he continues to yap about his eternal episode of narcissism: Seriously?
This guy is so egocentric that even his mom kicked him out? Just what kind of person is Mona marrying?
"That's why," he clears his throat, "I want you to kiss me. After that, I'll grant that wish of yours earlier at the balcony."
"Do you even know what it is?"
"No." He crosses his arms, "That's why I was coercing you to tell me, airhead."
"..." His insult goes over your head as you ponder at his proposal. Did the stars actually just grant you an actual blessing of being granted a wish? Your head shakes at the thought. You asked for this, and you're desperate, badly. "Fund my restaurant's foundation."
"Huh, that's it?"
"Shut up."
"Hah, that's child's play when i get my money back." his hands signal you to lean in, "Now do it."
Your hesitance shows, before asking one more time—"Are you really going to do it?"
"Just trust me a bit, will you? You're honestly getting under my nerves."
You sigh at his impatience. "Fine, fine, just shut up." You kneel in front of the desk, leveling yourself with the frog.
"I can't believe I'm doing this..." You mumble incoherently, finding the current situation quite ironic with how much you hate frogs.
But you convince yourself of the fact that all of this humiliation will be paid off when you finally get you and your father's building back, fulfilling both of your dreams.
Just a peck. You think as you lean closer.
Just a peck.
Just a peck.
Just a peck.
...
A sudden light envelopes your bodies, your skin tingles at the sensation, and you're sure Scaramouche feels it too when he slightly shudders against your lips.
The weird spell is probably broken now. You think as you slowly open your eyes, your jaw retracting from its former position.
Your hues immediately greet indigo orbs, Scaramouche. Your mind racks itself as you find that he's still a frog, nothing happened to him despite the appearance of the light that came after your kiss.
Nothing seemed different until you realized that...
why is he looking down at you?
Your eyes zero in fear as you slowly take in your surroundings.
Scaramouche was still perched onto the desk, a befuddled expression painted on his features as he stares as you, but...you're now underneath the wooden furniture he stands on, and everything seemed a lot bigger than before.
Your eyes scan your surroundings one more time, before anxiously looking at your own body—why...why...why—  
"Why am I a frog!?"
Xiao  —
The Man Tainted with Sin (Beauty and the Beast)
 Once, in the hidden heart of Liyue, a handsome young Prince lived in a beautiful castle...
Although he had everything his heart desired, the Prince was arrogant and unkind. He had taxed the village to fill his castle with the most beautiful objects, while dismissing all the duties as the son of Majesty, ignoring all pleas with a sharp glower. Irritation always filled his senses when anyone about approaches him, always being unforgiving and abrupt.
Then, one night, an unexpected intruder arrived at the castle, seeking shelter from the bitter storm. As for exchange, she offered the Prince a single rose.
Disgusted by her wrinkly appearance, the Prince turned the woman away. Scoffing to himself as his servants snicker at the woman’s bold request. But she had already warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within.
And when he rejects her yet again, the old lady’s outward features melted away to reveal a gorgeous Enchantress.
The prince immediately tried to apologize, but it was too late. The Enchantress had already seen enough of his ignominious heart and chanted a curse upon the lavish prince, embedding the mask of a beast onto his face, filling his once smooth skin with a hurl of tattoos.
He can only beg as he screams in agony at the excruciating pain of the spell cast, a swirl of dark green known as karma spread out to his entire palace and submerges itself as one by each servant that were included in his endeavours.
Days bled into years the once shining castle stands isolated and dark. The property is surrounded by a cold mist. The only sound is the grim winter wind, bringing shivers to anyone who dares near the cursed kingdom.
The prince and his servants were forgotten by the world. For the Enchantress had erased all memory of them from the minds of the people they once cherished and loved. 
But the rose gifted to him was his one and only hope—if he could ever feel love towards someone and have them reciprocate the emotion by the time the last petal wilts...
He’s doomed to burden himself with this unsightly mask and perilous aura for all eternity.
The prince falls to his knees as he stare at the rose, despair and regret soaking his entire being—
Who could ever love such a hideous sight such as him?
»»»
"Father!" Your voice echoes through the dark walls of the mysterious castle, the torch you held blazed as the cold air blew from a nearby window, it's light revealing the said man behind cold metal bars.
"[Name]?! What are you doing here?" Worry washes over his face as he frames your face with his calloused hands through the gaps between the bars, trying to find traces of wounds. "It's unsafe here! Return immediately!"
You grit your teeth at his selflessness, stubbornness overcoming your sense as you retort, "I'm not leaving without you."
"Did you not hear what he said, mortal?" a new voice pipes up from the shadows, immediately heightening your guard from its slandish tone. "He tried to steal a rose. Such an act cannot be tolerated in the premises of my territory."
Even with your leather coat, you could still feel the meditated coldness from his voice—inevitably making you shiver.
But that won't make you back down. "A rose?!" Anger is evident with your raised voice, "A damned rose?! That's enough for you to lock him up in this hellhole?"
The strange man immediately jumps down in front of you, making you stumble back as you reach out your torch to shine its light on him. If you were going to die here, at least show his face!
And—it did indeed show him. But not his face.
"You have no idea how another rose could possibly make my life worse than it already is." A seething hiss accompanies his words as your light shines on his figure.
The words in your throat immediately die down as you eye his rather unique mask, taken in the form of some type of demon with a pair of horns protruding from the top. His skin also adorned many strange markings. What...?
"If you're so mad because of the rose, then punish me instead." A bold deal, it seems. "I was the one who asked for the rose, leave him out of this."
Your father's protests are blurred away in your earshot—ultimately ignoring him as you make eye contact with this...beast's golden hues behind its mask. Although it's not easily seen with the green peripheral of the mask, but it's indeed gorgeous in a way.
"Hmph. Anyone with a brain would've ran by now," He approaches you and the gate, flicking the lock open as his breath fanned your forehead at the close proximity, "But if you're so insistent, then who am I to stop you?"
The door opens, making you push the man back as you rush towards your father, a hushed "You're alright." from you travels to your father's ears, making him hug you tighter.
"You are both fools. Utter fools." The masked man turns to leave, not until he enunciates, "Once this door closes, it'll never open again."
His threat is ignored as you whisper to your father, "Let's escape this together, okay?"
"As much I want to, dear, we can't. I've seen that man fight, and it's terrifying." He grips your shoulders, trying to force sense into you as he shakes in fear, "I'll stay here, so you can run. I already lost your mother, I'm not losing you too."
You pause your panicked flow of thought as you ponder your father’s words. He had never given too much details about your mother, but its certain that he treasured her so much, too much that he’s still looking after you, even in the most dangerous situation you’ve both been in.
A deep breath escapes your lips, looking at your father in the eye as you let out a small smile, "...okay." what a liar.
He nods at your upfront obedience, leading you to the gate as he kisses the crown of your head just one more time, "Don't worry about me. I'll escape on my own."
You stop in your tracks, facing your father completely as you grab his shoulder,
"Please forgive me."
He didn't have time to voice his surprise as you suddenly push him out of the cell, grunting as he drops on his bosom while you immediately close the gate.
Your father cries your name, tears starting to form as he tries to pry the gate open, but the masked man immediately appears behind him in a puff of air, dragging him by the collar to escort him out of the castle, "It's her choice. Just shut it." he mutters, he growing annoyed by his squirming and yelling.
You fall on your knees as you solemnly watch your father get dragged away, blinking your tears away as you grip your coat, feeling terribly guilty for your father.
A string of curses leave your lips as you stare at the window, finding no hope to escape this cell at the height you're resided in. Sturdy walls, metal bars, sharp railings, and the cell being high up in a tower doesn’t help with anything at all.
Falling lax against the wall, you bury your face in your folded arms, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
You feel terrible. Your father will be all alone now, despite your promise to keep him company for the rest of your life, and in your mother’s stead.
Would she be disappointed in your decision? Your mind thinks of the worst.
Your silent cries as left unheard as the room goes colder by the minute, its rocky walls making your back hurt. The moonlight seemingly mocks you as it peeks from the window, opting you to bury your face deeper onto your arms.
The floor suddenly looks interesting now.
Your body shoots up from its seating position when the gate opens once again,
"Excuse me, mademoiselle. I've come to escort you to your room."
Your gaze drops to find a...walking candle and clock on the ground, waiting in front of the now-open cell.
what the-
You grab a nearby wooden plank, raising it as you step back, weirded out by the talking antiques. "What are you?!"
"I'm Pervases." The candle bows in respect, not heeding any mind at your current threat of a plank, "Now please follow me."
"Are you sure this will work?" The clock whispers, making Pervases chuckle,
"Yes, it will, Ganyu."
You watch as they tread up a nearby staircase, before you turn to look around, attempting to find an exit.
There is none, what a surprise. You sigh as you drop the plank, before following the strange pair of...escorts, finding no other choice.
Whatever that weird masked man was planning with this type of approach, you could only wonder what was truly on his mind.
It's scary, really. The servants of that man said he was the one who...planned to give you such an exquisite and extravagant room to reside in as a prisoner. Just what the hell is he thinking?
Threatening you, taking your father away, locking you up in a cell, then suddenly giving you freedom over the entire building? You knew there something wrong within the castle walls, but what is it?
Definitely not the talking furniture haha—you think as a opera-singing dresser appears from the room's closet.
Other than that, you can feel something is wrong.
If only you knew as another petal fell from a beauteous rose encased with glass, filling the beast’s heart with more despair and hopelessness as he watched it slowly wilt from time’s ticking hands.
He stands oblivious as his servants as furnishing scheme something with the girl, having full intention on getting them to fall for each other.
How could they let this opportunity go? The girl might be just a commoner, but she’s very beautiful. She even managed to get to the castle without getting scratched by wild wolves! 
Yes. She’s definitely the one who’ll save Xiao, his people and his kingdom.
But the hopes of the house amenities die down a little as everything falls back to square one, how the hell are they gonna make them fall in love when her first idea of the man was this monstrous being with temperamental issues? And that the said man was a complete grouch with major red flags?
Oh well, it seems everything seems more complicated than they thought.
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@honeylemonsoooda thank you for the idea! And permission to let me post a fic about it!
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shozaii · 4 years
Note
could I request some dabi, aizawa and hawks taking care of their s/o who is maybe sick or has had a rough day? 💕
(a/n): hello hello anon! ahh thank you so much for sending this in! always wanted to write for dabi too <3 enjoy, love! ❤❤
masterlist.
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rough day.
pairings: dabi x reader, aizawa x reader, hawks x reader.
warnings: none!
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i’d like to think that dabi does care, and would even go as far as he could to show you that he does. maybe when you two first started dating, he would tend to be a little reserved, quiet.
well, of course he has the love. of course he has the affection. then again, of course he has to take time to ease himself with you - to give his all for his s/o.
a scenario; it was a long, long day of constant stress and pressure. it wasn’t like your body wasn’t used to this. you knew what you signed up for - might as well endure it, put your heart and soul into it when you can. after all, rest would always come later on.
or so you thought. it went even longer, the more you started thinking of your bed. more jobs, more deadlines within a day. more ruckus. geez, what was with the world today?
the world took most of your precious time, because by the time you stepped your foot into home, it was nighttime.
more like, the next morning.
you groaned, looking at the time. 
“babe...? your boyfriend called out in what seemed like a groggy voice. “damn, look at you. rough day?”
your figure sloppily fell into dabi’s chest, inhaling his enthralling scent. he let out a little ‘oof’ before saying, “you did, huh. come on, stinky. bath time.”
your arms have never felt this tired after so long, because when it reached out to punch him by the chest, it wobbled. “i have a name, you know.”
“yeah. stinky.”
“shut up.”
mans came prepared. doesn’t show it but he’s super duper aware of your schedule. doesn’t need to write it down, doesn’t need any reminder. on the dot. a fine gentleman indeed.
leads you carefully to the bath he prepared for you. he helps you scrub your back (i headcanon him being a master of massaging) he then pecks your scars/stiff areas. “seen this a lot on the shows. hope it works.”
yup, you both had a good laugh after that.
he then gives you your towels. offers to dry your hair because you nearly tucked yourself into bed while your hair was still soaking wet. 
even bought you your favorite dinner, and then chuckled softly when he watched you yawn as you rested your jaw on your palm. “bed.”
“wow. another way of saying, take me to bed, my dear prince,” his gosh darn attractive smirk appeared again. 
oh my god he is a sucker for you. 
when you both are finally on bed,  he pulls you close, peppering you with the last few kisses before you both fell sound asleep. the best part is that sometimes you two stay like that until the next morning.
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oh wow. let’s be real here, we have three wonderful gentlemen in this area. now aizawa is a little different. he knows what rough days are like, especially when he himself has gone through them. almost everyday. 
resulting in the yellow sleeping bag. 
but that does not stop you from caring for him. most nights when he returns home late, you treat him like a king because hey, he deserves it. he works so hard taking great care of his students, watching them overnight at the dorms (which results in no sleep). ah, the things you do make him so happy and loved.
so he vows to do the same to you. 
this time he was home earlier than usual - which was weird because usually you come home first. he checked every room, but to no avail. he tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.
okay, weird. where were you? maybe he’s been so used to seeing you return first till the point where he completely forgets about your schedules - basically anything you were doing. and damn does he feel terrible. 
which is why he decides to own up to it.
mans dashes through the apartment, getting the stuff that you like, ditching the stuff that you didn’t like seeing when you got back home, made sure he was wide awake for what he was about to see right in front of him - a representation of him (except that it’s not his son shinsou) or you, still in your best form.
.....maybe he didn’t need to think of the second choice. he was right with the first.
“my back hurts. so, so, bad,” you whined softly as he walked towards you.
“come on, kitten.”
“you should’ve gone to bed, shouta.”
“unfortunately my senses told me not to.”
“but they tell you that everyday.”
“....today was different.”
he lets you sit down on the couch for a bit, worried that you might as well collapse and then fall into the deepest sleep. once that was settled, he lightly tapped your shoulder. “you rested enough. bath time.”
conversations stay light with shouta. he knows what it’s like to be tired, and to constantly have noise around him. at the same time, he doesn’t want you sleeping; hence the small talk.
“are you sure, love?” you asked him. “you know i can-,”
“too late.”
you laughed drowsily. oh, what a man.
he frowns when you were hesitant to take a few bites from the light supper snack he prepared for you. they were your favorite.
“eat up. then we could sleep for as long as we want. i’ll even join you and never leave.”
best wild card pulled out of his pocket because you chomped down on your snack.
i headcanon him to be a little scared when it comes to massaging his s/o, worried that he might hurt them, but when he does, it’s god-tier. his hands work like magic. your back pain was almost all gone in that instant.
the both of you were already pooped out, so at the same time, you headed to bed, finally landing on your fluffy pillows, taking it all in.
and right next to you was the man of your dreams.
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okay! two rough day scenarios, now for this majestic bird boy’s s/o who isn’t feeling well!
you weren’t at your best. your nose was runny, you sweat a whole lot. for a while you felt really really hot, so you put on your blanket. suddenly you were freezing COLD. pulled them back up.
gave up and covered one half of your figure. your headache was not getting any better and you used ointment/took a painkiller to get rid of the stinging pain on the top part of your head; but to no avail. it kept getting worse. 
the worst part was that you had to skip your work schedule, and you were really precise with it no matter what. but you just couldn’t when your body hurt as if tons of rocks were placed on your back. this was definitely not going to end soon.
lucky for you, keigo was taking a nap right next to you. he got up abruptly. “um, i had a nightmare. i was...falling down....oh my god, y/n, you are RED! what did you have?”
“i had the same thing as you dummy,” you replied with a different tone in your voice. “ugh, my head.”
“you’re sick, chickadee.” he placed the back of his hand on his forehead. “nothing.” he then did so on your forehead. “you are burning hot.”
“why thank you.”
“y/n, i love you but i’m serious. your temperature is soaring hot.”
“aw, man. i can’t ditch my schedule today.”
“in this house, a ‘schedule’ does not exist. you’re staying at home, and i’m going to spend the day with you. got that?”
you blinked a few times with your sore eyes, before replying with a sniffle. “okay.”
“good little birdie.”
and boY does he finesse his way to giving you the best treatment. 
he may or may not have learnt making chicken soup over the years he has been with you, so cue him making probably the best one for you. (we all know why he learnt this anyway)
feeling cold? gives you warm water for your sore throat. feeling warm? puts a little stand fan for you to take in all the fresh air. might as well even fan you with his wings because keigo loves being extra for his s/o. 
he sits with you and holds your hand. he doesn’t like seeing you like this - who does? all he wanted to do was to head out with you, hold hands, fly with you if he could, eat some yakitori.
no, no. must cure y/n first.
he’s such a cute lil baby 
he’d place the wet cloth on your forehead, and comes checking on you every 10 minutes while he’s out of the room. 
bath time? yes please. the right scents for your already blocked nose and to also prevent you from feeling dizzy from the stronger ones that you owned. even offers to wash your back 🥺
gives you his clothing because you look so darn cute in them. he breathes this huge sigh of relief when your temperature decreases from where it was initially. then proceeds to kiss your cheeks.
“keigo! you’re going...to...get...sick!” 
“i’m practically immune. so don’t worry.” he smirked.
you started feeling a little bit better, so you moved to the living room. but the pains were still there.
“y/n. these medicines would help. you came prepared.”
“that’s because i was worried i’d get the flu once again. i hate this.”
“come on. it’s fine, love. you will get back in action in no time. i’m here for you, aren’t i?”
the day ends with more cuddles, more kisses, chicken soup, laughter, little naps, and finally to bed. it was a long day, and you were feeling a lot more better. the fever died down even more, the pains reduced.
and it was all thanks to this lovely number two hero - more so - your lover.
“get well soon, birdie. i love you.” you heard before your eyelids sealed shut.
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(a/n) : i. am. so. sorry. this took so long. ARGHH FORGIVE ME😭😭😭
but i do hope this is a wonderful read! 🥺❤
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stephmariie · 3 years
Text
The Undead Rising.
Request: Y/N and your people go on a supply run, as Negan and his people show up to the same place. Negan had no other choice but to accept your offer being out run by your bigger community with larger equipment. As Negan and Y/N bump heads showing who has the biggest balls here and a badass attitude, Negan is more impressed by how brave and clever Y/N is.
Requested by: @purple-serenity
Pairing: Negan x Y/N
A/N: this is not a one shot.
Warnings: strong language
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“This is the location, we haven’t been here yet and we need to check it out and see what we can find.” You point on the map showing the crew in your office.
“And if we don’t find anything?” David asked.
“Here is another location.” You point to a new spot on the map as you circled it with a red sharpie. “We haven’t been here yet. But we need to make sure the other place has what we need before we go to the next one.” You said
“Anyone have any questions?” You asked everyone in the room.
“When are we going?” Sarah asked quietly, she’s the shy one, as her face turns red she hated speaking in front of everyone.
“Good question, we could leave tonight. But I rather everyone sleep well tonight and we can go first thing in the morning. I’d like for my people well rested before we go on a big supply run.” You said.
You hated over working your people, you always do your best to make sure they’re well rested before a big event happens.
“Alright everyone let’s get some sleep since we have a big day tomorrow, I’d like everyone ready by 7:00 am tomorrow. Also before you leave here, Candace here has a list of everything we need for tomorrow. Run by her on things you need and be ready with it tomorrow morning. Goodnight everyone.” You said as folding up the map and putting all your paperwork together.
“Hey Y/N before you leave.” David said as he opened up the door and Sarah came back in with a cake and some lit candles.
Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy fucking birthday to you!!!! Everyone shouted
“Now make a wish as Sarah placed the cake down on the table in your office. You start to cry and couldn’t gather your words. “Guys..d-did you seriously do this for me? Wait how did y’all know it was my fucking birthday!” You said with tears and a smile.
“How could we forget your birthday we been marking it on the calendar everyday.” David said
“With everything you do for us, you’re one of the rarest leaders who just.. you know treat us well, you gave us a chance to rebuild a life again.. you bring us hope.” Sarah said
“And a hot as bitch!” Candace said as everyone in the room started to laugh.
You chuckled and made a wish and blew out your candles. “Your guys are the greatest get your asses over here!” As you held out your arms and everyone ran to tackle you.
Sarah cut the cake giving everyone a piece, you guys laughed and joked for a good thirty minutes before it was time for everyone to leave. Sarah was nice enough to clean up the office so you didn’t have to do it. You smiled looking around the room before turning the lights off and closing the door behind you to go too your house to sleep.
******
It was the next morning and you were gathering everything before you had to leave for the run. As you walk outside your crew was ready to go by the gate.
“Well shit look at all you sexy bitches, hot and READY! Me likely!” You said as you gave them all a sassy wink.
Everyone laughed, you always know how to start the morning by getting everyone to laugh. They always look forward to every trip with you. Makes things easier knowing your group loves hanging out with you.
“Well Goodmorning fuckers! Let’s get our asses on the motherfuckin road! Or are we just gonna stand around and be zombies all day?” You said with your arms spread out smiling walking backwards towards the gate.
“Zombies? sounds pretty nice if you ask me?”David said as you look at him with a smile
“Yeah yeah it would be nice, maybe after this trip we can relax and be zombies for a bit.” You chuckled knowing they will need a full day of rest after this trip. Specially you.
“Hey everyone you know I always do this but it’s a reminder. You all know the drill. We run our routes. Mark your log books. Clear any walkers you see. You run into anything, anything you can't handle, you come back here. Be smart about it. We work as a team okay? You said as everyone nodded.
*********
It’s been about 2 hours on the road as you guys finally rolled up to the place. It was an army base. You take out your radio. “Hey Sarah we have some walkers up ahead it seems like this place has some scattered around. Let’s stop here.” You said as you told David to stop the jeep. “You got it boss lady.” Sarah said over the radio.
You get out of the jeep as everyone else got out of their vehicle and walked over to you.
“You guys know the drill let’s clear the outside first before we go in.” You said as everyone nodded.
You started to ran and slammed your knife in the back of a walkers head, you’re always the first one to take action, it’s your favorite thing. Well taking action first that is not the killing part. You’re slamming all the walkers down there was a good amount here, this kind of thing always got your heart pumping of excitement.
You stabbed another walker through the head and you pulled the knife out and it broke.
“Oh you son of a bitch! Are you shittin me right now!” You said in an anger voice, wiping your sweat off your forehead with your arm as you were trying to pull another knife out of your side pants, a few walkers started to get real close to you, you were walking backwards and tripped over a dead walker landing on your back. You were using your elbows pulling yourself backwards to get away as you heard gunshots from a distance taking out the last few of the walkers around.
You seen a group standing with guns and a tall man with a barb wired bat around his shoulder. He wore black boots with dark gray pants, one glove on his right hand and a fucking leather jacket in 90 degree weather. How in the hell was he not sweating balls here. Is he fucking insane?
The tall man with the bat started to walk towards you along with his group behind him, as you helped yourself up and your group came up behind you with their guns. You put your hands on your hips.
“Hi pretty lady, I’m Negan.” He smiled As he held up both his arms out with Lucille in his right hand. “And we’re the saviors.” He did a slight point towards you.
“Hi.” You said crossing your arms. Lifting one eyebrow.
“Well damn excuse my goddamn French but I just saved your fucking ass and that’s all the response I get?” He said with a smile.
You rolled your eyes. “Sorry didn’t mean to offend you Mr… Negan right?” You said in a sassy tone that made him smirk a little.
“That’s right doll face, may I ask what you’re doing out here? At our base.” He asked leaning to the side moving his eye up and down at you, he was indeed checking you out.
“I could ask you the same thing Mr…. Negan.” Giving him a slight smirk. “In fact how could this be YOUR place when we just cleared the outside and none of your people are here guarding it. And… I don’t see your name on it.” You said giving him a tease with another smirk.
“You see this shit! this is what I’m talking about! Ahh this is the shit that just tickles me balls!” As he turned around looking at his men with his arms up. He turned side ways to look at you with a smirk. “You may not know me sweetheart, but you’re definitely gonna wish you haven’t.”
“Hmm, funny you say that because I feel you’re gonna regret crossing me pretty soon.” You snapping back.
“Yeah, we will see about that.” He whispered where you didn’t hear him.
“You see here, there’s this new world order and well dollface I hate to break it to you but you’re now apart of it. So let me break it down simple and easy for you. One..” as he held up his index finger, smirking away. “You work for me. We have the whole set up, beds, food you name it, I have the whole package sweetheart! So all you have to do is work for me. Or two.” He flipped up his middle finger too. “I kill you and your fucking people now! I take your shit, and be on my merry fucking way. Well I don’t like hurting women, so suggest you pick one. But men? Hell doll face I could bash their brains all fucking day! He sighs shaking his head as he grinned. “…..Women are just to fucking beautiful to kill.. so sweetheart. What’s it gonna be..?” Holding up his arms again with his bat in the air.
Your arms are still crossed and your smile that never left your face
“Neither.” You said with no hesitation.
“I’m sorry doll face I didn’t quite catch that.” He started to look angry.
“Mr. Negan let me be clear here, I’ll make it simple and easy.” As you leaned forward “just for you.” Still having a smile on your face with your arms crossed.
“Your rules are shit, and no I don’t do new world orders very well, you see here Mr. Negan. I will take your shit and be glad to shove it up your ass.” You let out a small laugh and you see Negan’s people gripping their guns about to point them to you and your people.
“Ohh sweetheart, you have no… idea who you’re talking to.” Negan now looks more angry.
“Oh I do doll face, and let’s be real here.” You sigh turning your head looking at the army base. “This is mine, and mine only.”
You couldn’t help but stare at his eyes, he had the most beautiful eyes you ever seen, hazel.. oh those hazel eye that could kill you.. when he smiled it just lit up his face along with his dimples. His smile curved so perfectly making his dimples pop out more. Making your heart race faster. His anger made you like him more. His attitude was turning you on.
“Well excuse me sweetheart.. I didn’t know this belong to you, there’s rules here in fact whatever is yours. Is now mine. Rather you it or not.” They He said with more intense voice
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response. “I never nor will I ever agree to anyone’s rules in fact I dont follow other people’s rules very well.”
Behind you, you could hear more vehicles rolling up. If was more of your people. David must of gave a code over the radio signaling we need help. David is basically your right hand man. One of the most clever guys on your team. He goes with you everywhere.
You turn your head to see behind you and you seen more of your community there with you. In that moment you had more people protecting your crew. More people than Negan brought along. You had more weapons, bigger guns and even a few tankers.
Negan’s eyes had widen, in shocked to see the shit you had. It was more than what he even had at his sanctuary.
“Welcome to the rising undead.” Holding out your hands your elbows were still to you sides. You gave a smirk and shot a wink towards his way.
“Now there’s no rules here Mr. Negan.” You started to walk towards him placing your knife back down on the side of you pants. “But we can try and agree on something here if you are okay with that.” You stopped about 10 feet in front of him. You watch his eyebrow raise making you smile a little.
You seen Negan look passed you at your large group. You were proud of your people in the moment showing up the way they did, how David sent a signal out. You had a huge community that you loved. You took care of. They respected you. You keep them safe and they keep you safe at all cost. Mostly everyone called you mom even for laughs and giggles. But deep down you acted like a mother when they needed you to the most. They love you as much as you love them. And for that, in this moment you couldn’t help but smile hearing more vehicles roll up in front of you. Behind Negan’s group, vehicles driving through the field to your right, an open field. It was huge. You watched Negan’s face as you hear all the vehicle doors open and slam shut. Negan in that moment all he could do was agree, he was out run by your people.
He started to look around as he giggled. He was facing the field and slightly turned his head towards you with a smile, like he was proud of your ass. Probably shocked seeing a woman like you that ran an community the way you do.
“Shit doll face, I guess I no longer have a choice here do I?” He ask turning his body towards you still having a smile on his face.
You couldn’t help but smile at his response, his smile was making you weak. Fuck, you needed to slap yourself in the face to knock it off. And get your shit together.
“Sorry my love I don’t think you do.” You said crossing your arms over your chest.
“There’s another army base that’s untouched, I’m willing to give that to you if you let us have this one. But… there’s a catch.” You said
“And what is that doll face?” Negan asked.
“I’ll let you have it, you let us help you clear some bigger place out for you, since we indeed have the bigger guns here. So in return we get some supplies. You know like a payment.” You said
Negan gave you smile, he seemed like he was trying to figure out what to say. Lost in words. Realized how clever you were.
“So Mr. Negan, what’s it gonna be?”
He took a few seconds to reply. “Alright. So how can we find them?” He raised an eyebrow with a smile on his face.
You started to walk towards him teasingly, looking into his eyes with a mischievous smile. You stopped in front of him standing very close. Finally breaking the eye contact, you put your hand on his shoulder and tiptoed to whisper in his ear.
“I’ll see you soon, big boy.” You say before planting a small but lingering kiss on his cheek. You pull away and see his smile grew wider deepening his dimples.
“I am about fifty percent more into you now...just sayin'.” Negan said grinning from that kiss
“An I’m about zero percent into now.” You said smirking, you slowly move your hand down off his shoulder to you biceps, walking backwards letting him go staring at him like you want him so badly as he started to see that.
You reached in your back pocket and took out a map. You handed it to him, the location that was folded up, as you knew the location was already marked on the map. “It’s the location of the other army base.” You said.
You turn away swaying back to your team and gave them nod to go ahead to the army base. As you stopped in the middle of the road before you went to follow your team, you turn around to look behind you to see Negan one last time, he gave you a smile and turned around as you watched him leave.
You called Joel and Steve over to you. These two are the best you had when they needed someone to sneak around. As they never get caught doing what they do best. They been with you since day one and never left your side. And never hesitate when you ask them for help.
“I need you both to follow them, check out their community and see what they do. Please?”
They both nodded and walked away and left to follow them.
“Jesus Y/N you handle that pretty fucking well, I almost didn’t need to signal anyone out here.” David said, he let out a chuckle.
You giggled still having a smile on your face from Negan. “No no no… I’m really glad you signal out for help. That actually made us look bigger and tougher.” You placed you hand on his shoulder. “Thank you David, seriously I owe you one big time. I’m proud of you, as I always am.” You smiled as you both walked over by the fence to the army base.
You and your people cleared out the inside, there was a lot of walkers more than you imagined. But luckily No one got hurt. As everyone knew the drill to check the walkers for any items that we could use, in fact the walkers had armer, weapons, knifes and extra bullets. There was a lot of items we needed so everyone gathered the items placing them in bins to haul back to their vehicles. We placed everything by the door till we had everything we needed.
There was a storage room full of MREs packages of food that the military used for meals. There was a lot, about a month worth of food. This was big as you needed all the food you could get.
“Hey Y/N!” David called you over. As you walked over to him, you seen the next room full of vehicles.
“Holy shit David!” You yelled out.
There was a full garage of army vehicles. BAe caiman, General Dynamics Stryker, M1 Abrams. The list went on. “Fuck David we could use these!” You had a big smile on your face. You couldn’t believe everything you guys had found inside, more and bigger weapons.
David grabbed a group of people having them get the new batteries and fuel for the vehicles. Most of them worked. While another group took what they could off the bad vehicles.
Everyone gathered everything and loaded up the vehicles, you helped them out too, getting everyone to laugh by your jokes, a lot of them joked back. You always tried and make a trip fun even when everyone is tired and worn out. You knew it was going to be a long trip back as you left the MREs out and had everyone grab some food for dinner before going back on the road. We needed to eat, you could tell how they needed their energy. While you all finished eating you gathered everyone around
“I really wanted to thank every single one of you tonight, seriously. You guys did awesome. The ones that came with me today, and for those who came out when you were signal too. You guys even stayed to helped clear out the inside and helped loading our trucks up making this go by faster.” You see everyone with a smile on their faces. They were all happy to be there with you.
“I seriously couldn’t ask for a better community than this. Thank you everyone again. I dont know about you guys but I’m ready to go home and fucking sleep!!” You yelled out as everyone cheered getting in their vehicles. Before you and David got in your vehicle he wanted to talk with you.
“Hey um Joel radio me, they made it safe and haven’t gotten seen. they’re still out there and safe.” David said
You nodded as you both got in the vehicle to go home. It was a nice smooth way back as you all pulled all your vehicles in everyone was unloading their trucks. You seen Lacy one your guards on the wall. She’s one of your toughest women here, well every women here you think is tough, lacy loves to work out she’s a body builder. She could work out for hours when she doesn’t have to be on watch. Who also teaches karate here. You been trying to get her to come out with you on a supple run but she loves being the guard on watch. Which is is one of your best spotters.
“Hey lacy!” You yelled out waving your two fingers motioning her to come down.
Hey Y/N! I see you brought in some good shit this time!” She said while chuckling.
“Hey now I always get the good shit!” You chuckled back. “What can I do to get you off that wall to come out with us next time?” You smiled at her.
“Well you got me off the wall now.” Lacy chuckled. “But you know I rather stay here, I’m your best spotter and you keeping me off the wall isn’t gonna help you out you know.”
You nodded knowing she loves her job. “Maybe one day I’ll get you out.” You smiled as lacy shocked her head.
“We will see boss!” Lacy ran back up to the wall as you watched her. You really would like her out there soon. But you hated pushing people who didn’t want to do something they don’t like.
“Alright everyone let’s get some rest shall we!” You said while everyone start to head back to their homes. Everything was put away and it was quiet in your community. As you get home you sat on your porch and pulled out your cigarettes. Before you could light it.
“Hey now, I thought you quit that shit?” Sarah said with a tease.
She had the most beautiful red hair you’d ever seen, it was long and wavy that was down to almost her butt. She barely wore it down but when she did she was beautiful. She had these beautiful hazel green eyes with a tint of gray around the edges.
You chuckled “yeah I thought so too.” As you lit your cigarette handing her the pack as Sarah grabbed a cigarette and your litter and lit her cigarette.
“You were pretty awesome the way you handle Negan.” Sarah said
“Yeah, yeah I fucking was.” You both chuckled.
“Not gonna lie, Negan was… hot.” Sarah took a hit of her cigarette and held it in.
You chuckled at her comment. “I’ve seen hotter.” you actually thought he was hot as fuck but you didn’t want to say that out loud.
“Your sassy attitude today, I think you scared him.” Sarah laughed taking another hit of her cigarette.
You take hit of your cigarette as well. “I wouldn’t say me, but I think we all scared him.” You put out your cigarette and stretched out your arms and yawned.
“I think you all did awesome today. Without you guys I truly dont know how that situation would of went.” You leaned back in your chair crossing your arms.
“I think we did awesome too. Sucks we had to give that other location away. Not gonna lie. I was looking forward to that.” Sarah frowned
You sighed reaching out your hand as she placed her hand onto yours. “I wasn’t happy about it either but we were stuck in a situation and we don’t need a war. I rather keep you all safe than loose any of you over a building.” You seen a tear rolled down her face.
“Thanks Y/N you truly do know how to keep us safe.” Sarah got up from her chair and leaned in giving you a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight Y/N.” As Sarah walked away.
You watched Sarah go to her house across the street making sure she made it inside. Even though your community is supposed to be safe, it’s just something you always did and never will stop.
You get up to go inside and your radio goes off “Y/N you there?” You heard Joel whispering over the radio. “Yes Joel..” you said over the radio. “We’re safe, we got everything we needed here.” Joel said.
You sigh with relief “come on back, be safe if you run into anything. You find somewhere safe and radio me or Lacy.”
You placed the radio on your end table, switched into you pjs and hopped on your bed. Negan was running through your mind. That handsome ignorant man with his sense of humor turned you on. You rolled your eyes. “I can’t be thinking about this right now.” You mumbled to yourself and closed your eyes to sleep.
*******
It was a beautiful new day as everyone was eating their breakfast. You usually don’t eat breakfast but you always had to have coffee. That was one of your favorite things right when you wake up. You headed outside with your coffee as everyone was greeting you this morning. You smiled at everyone saying Goodmorning as you hear a knock at the front gate you turned your head fast.
Dun-dun-dun-DUN. “LITTLE PIG, LITTLE PIG, LET ME IN!” You recognized that voice as you head turned slightly.
“Oh you gotta be shittin me right now.” You mumbled to yourself.
You walked over to the gate and gave the guards a nod to open the door. You crossed your arms over your chest and had a slight smile on your face. As the door opens all the way and Negan had a smile on his face holding out his hands with his stupid bat out standing outside your community.
Everyone was trying to get up as you moved your hand behind you stopping them. You wanted them to finish eating as you could handle this situation by yourself.
“Well hello there pretty lady, you gonna let me in?” Negan said smiling putting Lucille over his shoulder.
You chuckled “now why would I go and do that? We can talk where we’re standing at.” You we’re about 20 feet away from him and the gate.
He had a huge grin on his face. “Okay what If don’t accept your offer.” As he took a few steps forward and the guards from the bottom and top of the fence pointed their guns at him.
He chuckled “you really gonna shoot me now?”
“I will if I have to.” You shot him with a smirk as you started to walk towards him. You were about 5 feet away from him.
“You know I thought we had a special moment yesterday.” He chuckled
“Ahh easy there Romeo.” You said teasingly.
“Oh where are my manners, hi Mr. Negan, now why in the hell are you here.?” As he took one more step towards you, you can hear the guns shift. He stopped himself with a smirk on his face. As you raised one eyebrow.
“I wanted to see you doll face! And your..” He started to look around in your community where he was standing. “Your Beautiful community!” You rolled your eyes at his comment.
“That’s it? Seriously?” You said in a disappointed ton.
“Oh I’m sorry sweetheart, were you wanting more? I mean shit we can go somewhere doll face if that’s what you want?” He teased.
You laughed at his response. Placing your hand on your eyebrow scratching it “okay seriously why are you here, Negan?” You acted frustrated.
“Well doll face we searched that army base you gave us and we found some good shit. But we also had found another few location and you said you’d help us out so here I am.” He smiled placing Lucille down at his side.
“You ready sweetheart?”
Great he’s ready to go when I haven’t even prepared my people yet. This will be a shit show.
“Whatever you say Romeo.” As you walked away.
Taglist: @purple-serenity @witchiswriting
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wrightaboutthat · 3 years
Text
Proposing a Duel ~A Narumitsu One-Shot~
Summary: Finally, after years of pining, years of waiting, is Phoenix prepared to propose to the love of his life. But with someone he parallels so intensely, nothing can ever be straightforward.
Tags: Marriage Proposal, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Arguing, Childhood Memories, they're so dumb, and bickering 5ever, but they're so incredibly in love your honor, and deserve intense happiness like this, also this is probably set in the aa5-6 timeline somewhere but Who's Counting
Additional Notes: Hello everyone! Finally managed to tackle and finish one of my 20+ Narumitsu drafts lol. I recognize that this is quite the common trope/plot with these two, but I'm of course shooting for a "yay, two cakes" situation! We simply cannot have enough proposal fics, and these two deserve all the happiness/sweetness in the world quite honestly. They're tired- let them REST.
Anyway, super excited to share this with you all, and I hope you enjoy!
You can also read the work on AO3 here [x]
It felt different. He felt different. There was a certain and light sweetness that seemed to be lingering in the air. There was a tender warmth that seemed to be burning between two forms. There was a magnetic tug that seemed to be pulling harder than usual.
Perhaps it was finally pulling towards the inevitable.
Phoenix’s breath caught in his throat at the very consideration. It had been so long after all. The entirety of his life had slowly led up to such a thing. But even still, he doubted his readiness, doubted his ability to proceed.
Though, looking at the man beside him easily dampened such doubts. Fear melted away into giddy nervousness, and worry softened into warm tingles.
Because it was Miles.
Miles.
A man who had evaded him for years. A man who had changed him for the better. A man who had beautifully fought for betterment all for his sake. A man who he’d do anything for.
A man he wanted to marry.
The direct utterance within his mind manifested a flushed smile, his head going woozy with adoration. Inevitable indeed; it felt so right to consider, so...perfect. He of course hoped his proposal would follow suit, that it would declare such deep admiration to the receiver. He wanted it to be just as wonderful as the very man-
“What is it?”
The murmured baritone snapped Phoenix from his honeyed thoughts, startling as he returned to the present.
“Huh?”
Though Miles’ stare remained trained ahead, Phoenix could still pick up on the tenderness that washed over his facial expression.
“You were staring quite intently, darling.”
The term of endearment, the tonality of his boyfriend’s voice, and the ginger facial expression did nothing to help his blush. The defense attorney’s cheeks were fiery, though his growing smile aided in the distribution of heat.
“Is that anything new? I always struggle to take my eyes off you.”
He watched with amusement as color struck Miles’ face to match, his expression crinkling into something of embarrassment.
“Nngh...” he quietly groaned, earning a chuckle from Phoenix before he continued, “Well, at least I’m the one driving then.”
“Thank God for that.”
They ventured back into comfortable silence, but affections were still reciprocated. Miles slipped a hand off the steering wheel and laid it palm-up on the console, an invitation that Phoenix immediately took. He gave his boyfriend’s hand a soft squeeze, contentedly sighing as his thoughts began to wander once more.
Hand holding wouldn’t feel the same for very long after all. There would be an even deeper connection with it, a deeper unity. Soft skin and sturdy fingers would be bordered with precious metal, a glistening reminder of their utmost promise to each other...
“Phoenix.”
The tanner man jerked back to the present once again, though not as harshly as before.
“Yeah?”
“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”
“Are you saying I’m normally loud, baby?”
The slight rise of his boyfriend’s brow was enough to draw forth a laugh, the deeper implications plenty visible in such a mere gesture.
“More talkative than I, yes,” Miles huffed, though he quickly ventured back towards a more solemn air. “Is something on your mind?”
“Ahh...no.” A lie. And it was very dangerous to offer a lie to the man who sought nothing but the truth in every regard. So Phoenix very quickly covered with a genuine statement, a true explanation indeed. “I just...get lost in how much I love you sometimes.”
Heterochromatic eyes had averted with such a statement, and his other hand had taken purchase upon his neck. The silence that followed however, drew his gaze back towards his partner. But, following the pattern of comfort, any and all apprehension was doused by the prosecutor; the intense blush and bashful furrow on his counterpart’s face triggered giggles.
“Darling...” Miles muttered in disdain.
“It’s true!”
Silver eyes briefly flitted sideways, before the opposing man heaved a large sigh. Years ago, such a statement would likely earn some manner of reluctance or coldness. In the present though, and to Phoenix’s delight, it slowly drew forth a gentle smile once more.
“If I wasn’t speeding down a highway, I would perhaps have to kiss you,” Miles eventually murmured.
“Just perhaps?” Phoenix laughed.
“Mm...”
The prosecutor readjusted their conjoined hands, and better gripped Phoenix’s, gently bringing it to his awaiting mouth.
“Assuredly,” he said, sealing the word with a tender kiss.
It was the defense’s turn to be bashful, flushing and giggling and crumpling in on himself. It was without fail; close to proposing, and yet rendered so useless by his beloved. He doubted that would change, even well into their marriage. It hadn’t for years and years after all.
When Miles lowered their hands back to the console, Phoenix heaved a breath, easing into conversation before thoughts hoisted him away again.
“Where are we going anyway?”
There was an odd pause, coupled with what sounded like a shaky inhalation. The prosecutor did indeed answer, but through vagueness only.
“You’ll see.”
“Are we close? Because I perhaps have to kiss you too.” Just as Miles has done, he brought their hands upward, gripping the prosecutor’s just so and returning the gesture with warm lips. “Hands don’t really cut it.”
“Yes, dear. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
Phoenix grinned, and pressed a plethora of short kisses to the other man’s hand- so much so that he earned a soft whap of disdain to the face. He broke into giggles then and freed the prosecutor from his onslaught, simply opting to sit and wait for their arrival, albeit anxiously. He hoped it was a proper location. He hoped it was someplace fitting. He hoped it would be a date worth turning into something more. He wasn’t sure if he could stand the idea of having to push things back any longer; the ring had already been in his possession for one day too many.
The car finally slowing down brought him from his thoughts, and he blinked as he attempted to process where they were. It didn’t seem to be a fancy restaurant or anything typical of Miles; in fact, it seemed like they were just in some random part of the city. And yet, there seemed to exist an odd sort of...familiarity to it all, a sense of dejavu gnawing on his mind.
Regardless of the swirling thoughts, he snapped to action the moment they stopped. The second Miles parked the car, he was leaning across the center console, following through with his previous statements and tugging them both into a proper kiss. The pair sighed and melted against each other’s mouths, sucking and gliding and caressing.
When Phoenix attempted to slide his tongue betwixt his partner’s lips however, did the prosecutor lean back and break their connection.
“Not so fast, Wright,” he tutted, though his brow was playfully cocked, “Can’t have you sullying this date.”
“Me? You’re the one who’s irresistibly gorgeous.”
Miles rolled his eyes, causing the tanner man to chuckle, before he poised himself to depart the vehicle.
“I rest my case.”
Phoenix continued with his mirth, but had no further objections; no, he didn’t need to sully their date at all. There would be plenty of time for intimacy, but only one chance to present such a momentous inquiry. So he exited after his boyfriend, and walked around the car to be by his side.
Gazes were soft once more upon meeting, and the prosecutor offered a hand for Phoenix to take. He did so happily, and allowed his partner to lead. In doing so however, perplexity joined the mix, his wavy brows furrowing as he continued to try and place...where exactly they were. It wasn’t exactly a park, or a restaurant, or any discernible destination at all. It merely seemed like Miles was leading him down a sidewalk- and was his hand...trembling?
His face scrunched with further confusion, the two of them continuing to wind through buildings. Soon however, buildings opened up to a very particular scene. Rounding a corner stopped him dead in his tracks. Gazing upon the openness before him smacked his brain with a plethora of memories. He saw many a picture, heard swaths of innocent laughter, and felt rushes of old warmth...
“Remember this spot?”
Miles’ murmur managed to reach him, but his composure still swayed. Tears almost pricked his heterochromatic eyes, his nose tickling with the threat of their manifestation. Because yes, he absolutely did. The small canal, the grassy hill, the surrounding quaint homes, the sunset...
It was a scene from their youth. It was a place they had frequented together as grade schoolers. It was a place where dreams had been discussed, and bonds had been formed.
And God, was it perfect for taking said bonds even further.
Phoenix had to keep a hand over his mouth for a few beats, attempting to keep his composure at bay. Breaking down in front of Miles wouldn’t be anything new necessarily, but it would produce suspicion.
Thankfully, the prosecutor didn’t seem to notice- at least, not yet. For he simply snickered and tugged, softly beckoning with their conjoined hands.
“I take that as a yes. Come on then.”
He led them both down the old path, strolling in the golden light of the setting sun. Phoenix could almost see flashes of their grade school selves as they happened along, laughing and shoving and playing. And, through the sparkles in his vision, could he also picture the glistens of precious metal, of gemstones shining with promise and love.
He had to bite his cheek to keep himself in check. When would be the proper time to ask anyway? It felt so close, but so very far. It felt so perfect, but so out of reach. Maybe it would just come to him. Maybe the stars would align. And if Miles’ hand was still oddly trembling, he could no longer tell; his was too.
The prosecutor slowing down pulled him from his running thoughts, but made the situation all the more real. He allowed Miles to lead him into the grass, onto one of the slopes neighboring the sidewalk. Mismatched eyes rapidly blinked to shoo away tears; it was such the perfect parallel. It was such a beautiful nod to their roots.
“Love, I didn’t think you remembered this!” he strained out, beginning to beam immensely, “It was so long ago.”
“Well of course I do. You were the better part of those years after all.”
“Miles...” Phoenix heaved a breath, his smile beginning to rival the light shining upon them. “You’re such a sweetheart, you know that? This was so thoughtful.”
He watched with delight as the opposing man flushed something terrible, his silver eyes averting and his grasp retracting.
“Ngh...” he softly groaned, before dismissively waving a hand and moving to sit, “It’s merely a trip down memory lane, that’s all.”
“Yeah but...” Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh, latching on to some teasing for a bit of emotional respite, “Esteemed Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth sitting in the grass for me?”
Miles seemed to stiffen a bit, coupled with another crawl of red across his visage.
“Is that really such an oddity?”
“A bit, yeah! It’s different than what we normally do.” Phoenix snickered a bit more, before he lowered himself to the ground as well, sitting flush against his partner. The mirth departed his voice then, his tone traveling back towards a more earnest warmth. “So it’s just...It’s really sweet. And meaningful.”
And utterly perfect for what he had planned.
He watched as Miles’ face immensely softened, though silver eyes averted once more. Phoenix took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to the offered cheek, before moving to nestle his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He sighed a contented breath upon doing so- particularly when he eventually felt Miles’ head snuggle against his.
Part of him was anxious, what with a brewing proposal swirling around in his depths. But another part hushed him, and told him to simply enjoy the scene for a moment. It was a lovely contrast against their usual life; just getting to take a few moments of calm hush with his beloved, in a place that meant so much to them. The sunlight was warming, his partner’s body was soothing, and the air was enticing.
Mismatched eyes half-lidded, and he hummed amidst the quiet. He wanted it to continue. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. But the other half of him began to cry out for attention. The other half drove him to speak, to drive the peace towards partnership.
“God, Miles...How did we even get here?”
“It’s been a long road, hmm?” the prosecutor murmured after a few beats.
“Yeah. Crazy to think I’m here with you like this. It was always a dream of mine.”
“I concur.”
“So proper,” Phoenix snickered, moving to press another kiss to the opposing man’s cheek.
“Hush,” he huffed. Before Phoenix could nestle back downwards however, Miles turned his head and captured their mouths for a proper kiss. And just as soon as the kiss started was he rising to stand, stoically and handsomely staring out towards the departing sun. He seemed to let out a shaky breath, before he continued in solemn tones. “As children, when I sat with you here, I...couldn’t help but look to the future, and imagine what could be. To think that it’s realized now, and far more than I ever pictured...”
He heaved again, and seemed to look downward at his feet.
“And to think that it could continue...”
Phoenix’s heart leapt into his throat; how was it that Miles was perfectly setting him up? How was it that he was meticulously laying the puzzle pieces out? It was almost like he knew, like he was aware of the ring burning brightly in his pocket.
“Phoenix...”
It was time. Oh God, it was time. It was like some divine forces yanked him upward, piloting him towards the start of a new beginning. He no longer questioned it. He no longer felt apprehensive. He only felt entirely driven to begin.
“-Miles, I adore you,” he blurted, butting in and rambling without much control, “I love you so much. I can’t imagine being with anyone else but you. You’re gorgeous, and amazing, and so important to me, and...”
He could feel his partner’s eyes on him. He could feel the burn of their bodies. He could feel the very question hanging in the air between them. His chest tightened, his eyes watered, and his extremities quivered...Yet he still managed to reach for the life changing box in his pocket, and poised himself to get down on one knee.
“And so I have to do something I’ve thought about since I met-“
“-Hold it!”
The sudden objection from his boyfriend startled him, causing him to crash down upon his knee as opposed to a gentle descent. He winced a bit at the impact, but physical pain was quickly replaced by emotional; Miles looked...appalled. Phoenix felt his chest squeeze immensely, coupled with a croaked utterance of the prosecutor’s name.
“Wh- Miles?”
He watched with further horror as his counterpart backed away, heaving and wringing his fists a plenty. Miles even went so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose with a hand, sighing and straining a cursed sentence.
“I cannot believe this...”
The defense lawyer trembled, the words piercing a crack in his heart. He had been wrong. He had been overzealous. He had pushed Miles too far. He had backed himself into an unlovable corner yet again.
He opened his mouth to speak, to question, to beg for answers, but all that escaped was a quivering breath. Oddly enough, the sound still managed to reach the prosecutor, because he looked back before...miraculously softening?
“-Wait wait, no. Apologies. I...” he said with a raised hand, before pulling it back in and freezing.
They both were silent for several beats then, the air immensely tense and thick. Though Phoenix felt slightly better that his beloved no longer appeared...disgusted, his heart still ached something terrible. He was confused, and downtrodden, watching his boyfriend closely for any further reactions.
React he did; he shifted more into the typical tense nervousness, pulling at his shirt and avoiding eye contact. Numerous deep breaths also heaved from the prosecutor, the exhalations sounding surprisingly shaky. Though it was likely only seconds, the quiet felt like hours, Phoenix clambering for any sign he hadn’t just made the worst mistake of his life.
And it was a wonder he doubted his partner so. It was crazy that his anxiety still got to him. The traumatic scars really did run immensely deep. But regardless, Miles finally provided, looking back and turning the situation around.
“My darling,” he began, his silver eyes interlocking with heterochromatic, “I am...so sorry for startling you. I just...have no idea how we possibly managed...”
With that, the prosecutor reached into his own pocket, and presented something that connected all the glittering puzzle pieces together.
Oh.
Oh.
Every ounce of apprehension washed away. Every bit of discomfort fizzled into nothingness. Every drop of sadness evaporated into thin air. And all was replaced by the most dazzling, incredible warmth Phoenix had ever experienced.
Because it was a box, much like the one he still had in his own hand.
Suddenly, everything made sense. He had brought him out here with identical intentions. He had sweetened his tongue with the same question. He had been preparing to go down the same road, and was startled by the abrupt change in plans.
They had both tried to propose to each other. They had both tried to ask for each other’s hand.
Phoenix wasn’t sure whether to laugh or sob, and subsequently settled for a mixture of both. His free hand clapped over his mouth, and he quivered from tears and mirth alike.
“Miles? Miles?!”
Through the glaze, he could see the prosecutor shaking his head. And over his trembling vocalizations, he could hear the strained quality his boyfriend’s voice had taken.
“Always throwing me for a loop, Wright.”
“Oh my God!” Phoenix laughed, rubbing at his eyes with a hand as he attempted to compose himself. He was overwhelmed, so delightfully overwhelmed. Because two opposing rings meant they were on the exact same page. Two pieces of beautiful metal signaled each other’s answer.
His laugh choked off with more of a sob, and he peered through his fingers to get a look at his boyfriend. Miles had his head turned away, a hand grasping his face once more. Was he crying as well? Or trying not to? Whatever the case, the very consideration sent further tears down the tanner man’s cheeks.
“I...I love you,” he rasped.
“I...” Normally smooth and cool vocals were shaky and taut, the prosecutor clearing his throat before attempting again. “I love you too, dearest.”
The situation beautifully plateaued, the two men taking numerous beats to compose themselves. Neither moved. Neither said anything. Neither made any sort of advance with such a dear connection woven between them.
Phoenix continued wiping his tears and blowing out cleansing breaths. He slowly became aware of the fact that he was still on one knee, still poised to officially pop the question. Though, how was he to go about it? And with an opposing ring in the playing field? He felt inclined to inquire.
“Love?”
He watched as the prosecutor straightened, smoothing out his dress shirt and composing himself something proper. It looked very much like how he recovered in court after a sudden blow, scrambling back from an emotional edge and easing back into stoicism.
“Yes?” he answered after a few beats, though his voice was still thickened.
“What...what do we even do now?!” Phoenix laughed, his free hand traveling to rest upon his neck.
“Well,” Miles began after heaving another cleansing breath, “If we’re getting into technicalities, I’ve had this planned for months.”
The sheen in Phoenix’s eyes flashed with a new spark, the tears glistening with fire. No, not just an opposing ring- a rival ring. It seemed that old habits died hard.
“So? I’m the one on one knee right now! I beat you to it.”
“And? I don’t believe you had any sort of plan regarding this.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m trying to marry you, Phoenix,” Miles said matter-of-factly, tapping his bicep in the normal way, “Ergo, I know you better than perhaps the back of my own hand.”
The tanner man wanted to laugh at the courtroom persona his partner had suddenly adopted, argue with the points being brought to the table, and melt at the fact that Miles Edgeworth wanted to marry him. Unfortunately, he was incapable of anything of the sort; the truth was a little too on the nose.
“Ahh...” was all he sheepishly managed, his free hand grasping his neck harder.
He watched as Miles cocked a brow and gave him a knowing look, furthering the blush that gripped his cheeks.
“Out with it then.”
“Okay...Maybe I was about to start winging it...”
“Mm, as always.”
“But so what?” Phoenix exclaimed, “I’m always ready to get into how much I adore you, and why I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else, and-“
“-You are not about to advantageously segue, Phoenix Wright.”
The defense attorney burst out laughing, finally standing back up and closing the distance between them.
“Miles!” he comedically whined, giving his boyfriend’s chest a gentle shove, “Dammit, you do know me a little too well.”
“Indeed. Which is why I feel more than apt to be the first one to proceed.”
“No! I was ramping myself up towards a big speech and everything.”
“As was I. I’ve dreamed of this since I was young.”
“And you think I haven’t?!”
The prosecutor’s face devolved into more of his usual scowl, his arms lacing across his chest. It was quite the sight really, what with his eyes still containing wisps of moisture. Still, the strange contrast didn’t cease the pair’s argument.
“We seem to be at quite the impasse then.”
“A bit!” Phoenix snorted.
“Is your stubbornness really going to stop us from getting engaged?”
“Is yours?”
Miles let out a harsh sigh, his annoyance becoming more and more noticeable.
“You’re being ridiculous. Why does it matter who proposes to whom anyway?”
“If it didn’t matter so much, you would have let me go for it!” the tanner man pointed out.
“You’re incredibly obstinate.”
“Haven’t you always admired that?”
“Phoenix,” Miles hissed.
“Besides, so are you!”
“Tell me, do you have a better comeback besides mirroring what I’ve just said?”
“I could always tell you to shut up and let me get on with it.”
“Oh, so romantic and well spoken,” the prosecutor snapped, throwing his hands with exasperation, “Truly makes for the sweetest memories.”
“Says you! You’re the one who started all of this. I could have proposed already!”
It was then that Phoenix’s eyes glinted once more, this time with a spark of mischievous stubbornness. In knowing him so well, Miles appeared to pick up on it, his body twitching and his brow furrowing.
“Don’t you dare-“
The prosecutor’s snarl cut off as they both leapt for the same conclusion. Knees crashed to the ground together, and boxes were hastily grappled for, the two racing for that beautiful spot.
And then something tickled Phoenix once more.
Maybe it was the way the love of his life was kneeling and fuming before him, holding a precious box in such a seething manner. Or maybe it was the way they were both treating their rings as weapons, like they were drawing them for a duel. Or maybe, it was the way they were arguing over a damn proposal.
Regardless, the tanner man was powerless, and began laughing again without much control. The sudden mirth seemed to slap the prosecutor; out of the corner of Phoenix’s eye, he could see his partner stiffen something terrible. It was likely striking even more of a nerve, but he couldn’t help it. It was so...stupidly them, and so amusing as a result.
He bent over from the force of his giggles, instinctively placing a hand on Miles’ bent knee to steady himself. The voice of reason in the very back of his head screamed danger, as an angry prosecutor could easily shove it off. But just as the situation continued to unfold in an odd manner, as did motivations. For Phoenix felt a gentle hand come to rest upon his own, squeezing as opposed to throwing.
“What’s...so funny?” he barely heard his boyfriend ask, his hesitant voice drowned out by the seamless mirth. He had to take numerous beats to sharply inhale, to attempt to get some air, before he could even consider replying.
“...This!” he gasped, wiping building tears with his free hand, “Us!”
To both his surprise and amusement, he heard what sounded like a cheerful huff from the prosecutor. Maybe he was being pulled down into the fun as well? The thought tickled the tanner man even more, and he rode another wave of giggles before fighting for further conversation.
“Miles...Miles...What the hell are we even doing?”
Yes, the prosecutor was definitely laughing now; Phoenix could hear the chuckles blending in so well with his own. It sent him into another fit, made worse by what Miles said next.
“Being...Imbecilic I suppose.”
The pair took a few moments to laugh together then, completely replacing the annoyance in Phoenix’s system with honeyed warmth once more. How typical of them. How beautiful of them. Riding an emotional rollercoaster was something of wonderful normalcy, even in what was supposed to be a special moment. Though, perhaps it actually made the moment all the more meaningful, all the more memorable.
“God! We’re so stupid...We’re so damn stupid...” the defense eventually wheezed, continuing to wipe at his eyes.
“Speak for yourself,” Miles huffed, slowly standing back up and brushing himself off.
“We’re- hey!” Phoenix laughed, erecting to give his boyfriend’s chest yet another push, “You’re an ass.”
“Oh, will the loving talk ever cease?” the prosecutor sighed with a roll of his eyes.
The tanner man continued to giggle, before he stepped even closer, nuzzling his nose tenderly against Miles’. The pair softened immensely, and the defense attorney took advantage by offering yet another kiss.
“I love you so much,” he whispered when their mouths parted.
“I love you too.”
The pair took a few beats of tender silence then, stepping down from the nonsensical energy that had been their argument. It was Miles’ turn to take advantage then; he reached with a hand to brush black hairs back into place before gently framing a damp cheek.
“I do still intend to go through with this, you know,” he murmured, before mildly cocking a brow, “Even though the mood has been thoroughly soiled now.”
“I do too. I-“ Heterochromatic eyes widened slightly, the tanner man starting like he had reached a brilliant conclusion in court. “Hey, actually...”
“Hmm?”
“Hear me out on this, okay? Going back and forth is totally our thing, right? We kinda just proved that.”
A huff and eye roll from the prosecutor drew another shaky laugh from the defense. Still, he continued.
“So what if we...propose together? Back and forth?”
He watched as a strong swath of red spread across his boyfriend’s cheeks, coupled with a furrow of his brow. Silver eyes flitted off to the side as well, a sign he was either flustered or objecting.
“That’s...”
In fearing the latter, Phoenix quickly interjected. “-I know, I know, it’s weird. And not exactly traditional. But it’s...us, you know?”
“I suppose that would indeed solve our problem after all.”
“Okay...”
The tanner man heaved a multitude of cleansing breaths, attempting to pull his composure back to the proper place. But with the element of surprise gone, with two rings in the vicinity, and with the love of his life staring through sparkles of unshed tears...He couldn’t help but shakily laugh, intense emotions swaying all over the place.
“Whew, I...Dammit! I can’t focus now-“
“-Shh,” Miles cut in, suddenly leaning closer and nestling their foreheads together, “Come here then, dearest. I believe we need to...take a moment.”
The defense’s breath caught at the proximity, but he nodded, allowing himself to get ushered away by the man before him. Nestled so close, aggressively ricocheting emotions had no choice but to settle; for there was nothing quite as soothing as snuggling up to his beloved. His mind whited out with the gentle, floral scent of the prosecutor, and the soft warmth his being provided. Though his heart was still pounding, and his eyes were still watering, it did indeed effectively walk him back to a more composed mentality. Perhaps because it reminded him just how much he adored the opposing man, and just how much he wanted to marry him.
“Better?” Miles eventually whispered.
“Yeah...” Phoenix replied, before blowing out a few more cleansing breaths. This was it. This was really it. “Okay. Okay okay...”
He leaned back then, intertwining both stares and fingers. The two shared a look of love, of reverence, of happiness, before stepping fully into the light.
“Phoenix Wright...”
“Miles Edgeworth...”
The tanner man watched as his beloved opened his mouth, but stiffened when no words followed. The tender visage furrowed back into a scowl, but thankfully, Phoenix wasn’t left in apprehension for too long.
“Curses. I had been so ready!”
Phoenix found himself laughing once again; composure was still a beast, it seemed. But somehow, by some damn graces, were words poised on his own tongue. So he gripped his love’s hand a bit tighter, and allowed them to fall.
“Well here- I knew I wanted to marry you from the moment I met you.”
The furrow on Miles’ face didn’t ease- it only turned incredulous. Naturally, Phoenix laughed even harder, and gave the prosecutor’s hand another squeeze.
“I’m serious! Even at nine years old, I could recognize my soulmate.”
Miles seemed to consider the statement, or allow the words to blanket over him. Either way, after a few beats, did he find his stride as well, steering them both towards a more solemn air.
“From the beginning, you enraptured me,” he murmured, silver eyes trained off to the side, “I felt safe around you, happy around you. And there was a deeper sort of calling that I recognized too- something brilliant and pure that I haven’t experienced with anyone else.”
“I think it was so strong and beautiful that I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Phoenix admitted.
“Indeed. It frightened me, and you know this. I denied its call initially. Or perhaps I didn’t deem myself worthy of standing hand in hand with such an incredible, intelligent, wonderful man.”
“Miles...” Phoenix murmured, his voice and face coated with disdain.
“Especially after all I’d done. So, I of course stepped away from that gorgeous light you cast.”
“But I had no intention of losing you. Still don’t.”
The two squeezed hands, before monochrome eyes slowly crept upwards to find mismatched once more.
“Nor I you,” Miles whispered, “When your hand was presented, I could only avoid its reach for so long. There was only so much running before that warmth enveloped me. No longer could I deny the deep and complex feelings you evoked within.”
“I didn’t know how to go about it, you know. Once I had your hand, I didn’t know what to do. I stumbled a bit trying to figure it all out.” Phoenix looked downward at their connection then, a warm, tearful smile overtaking his face. “All I did know was that I was so incredibly in love with you.”
He heard Miles’ breath catch, and subsequently offered a few caresses with his thumb. The prosecutor softly cleared his throat, before he managed to tenderly continue.
“I...knew I was in love with you too. The second you found me, the second you reached me, I could feel it.”
“Yet somehow we danced circles around each other,” Phoenix shakily snickered.
“I just couldn’t comprehend it. I struggled to find mutuality. Because, I of course just wanted to see you happy. I wanted nothing but the best for you. And I wasn’t sure I fit that bill.”
“You did. You do.” Phoenix softly broke their connection for the purpose of framing his partner’s face, tenderly holding and intently staring. “God, Miles, you do. I don’t think I could love someone as much as I love you. Maybe I couldn’t even wrap my head around it either.”
“And we both experienced hardships of course.”
“Yeah. But you were there for me. You took my hand as well. You guided me and made me a stronger, better person. I wouldn’t be who I am today if not for you.”
“I of course can say the same about you. You are...” Miles heaved a shaky breath himself, before reaching to mirror the touch. “...the dearest thing in my life, Phoenix. You are my light, my guidance, my foundation, and my truth. You are so incredibly important to me, and I love you more than I ever deemed possible.”
Phoenix had heard his partner speak soft sentiments before. He had experienced the deeper, more vulnerable side of the prosecutor a handful of times. But whispered in a spot from their childhood, proclaimed as they sought to strengthen their bond...
It amplified his tears tenfold, his bottom lip wobbling as awed cascades poured forth.
“I...M-Miles...Dammit...” he croaked, leading to a playful eye roll from his partner.
“Mm, so eloquent,” Miles softly huffed.
“Shh! I...” Phoenix hesitated, overwhelmed and overflowing with adoration. He felt there wasn’t much to say to top what had just been murmured- and he also knew he dangerously close to falling apart. Consequently, he softly tugged his partner closer, and locked them in a tender kiss. He couldn’t help but whimper against the prosecutor’s lips, but he hoped to instill every bit of honeyed warmth he could manage- at least until he could properly vocalize.
“You’re my home, my warmth, my dream, my everything,” he eventually murmured, his mouth ghosting against his partner’s, “I love you more than humanely possible. You make me so so happy. There is no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. So you’re kinda...stuck with me forever.”
“I would have it no other way. You have me, always.”
“Always. I’m yours.”
The two men stared at each other for numerous beats, glassy eyes peering deeply into each other’s souls. Tears ran down Phoenix’s cheeks, whereas Miles remained unshed and unbroken. But regardless, the intense emotion was palpable, the next step dangling right there for both to grab.
“So then...” Miles whispered.
“So then...” Phoenix quietly returned.
In mirroring each other, in being on the same plane, the two simultaneously lowered to one knee, far slower and less chaotic than the previous time. Instead, it was purposeful, devout, the pair entirely interlocked as they continued. They both presented their respective boxes once more, and shakily prepared for the final step.
“Phoenix Wright?”
“Miles Edgeworth?”
“Would...would you do me the extraordinary honor...and privilege...” Miles started.
“...of becoming my husband?” Phoenix finished.
It was then that he opened his box, with Miles following closely behind. And again, did he come incredibly close to breaking. Again, did he nearly lose hold on reality.
Because of course he and Miles continued to parallel. Of course they both ran with the same idea: The ring the prosecutor was presenting glistened with blue, just as the ring he presented glistened with red. They were gifting each other’s aesthetics. They deeply recognized each other, nodded to each other, and such an element would likely switch the next time they gifted rings.
The next time they gifted rings...
“I’ve waited so long to marry you, Miles...” Phoenix managed to gasp.
“I’ve pictured no one else...”
Phoenix was barely breathing, barely thinking. But still, did the words roll off his tongue, like they had been poised to do for eternity.
“So...yes.”
The preciousness finally broke the nigh impenetrable glass, a single tear rolling down the prosecutor’s cheek as he returned the deepest sentiment.
“Yes.”
Phoenix choked out a pitiful sob, and couldn’t help but tug them both upwards, his mouth finding Miles’ the second they were standing. And it was a wonder how their kiss almost immediately felt different, tasted different. It was sweeter, purer, and more profound. It was like their lips connected in a way they hadn’t before. It was something gorgeous, something new.
Perhaps it was because they were engaged. They were engaged.
Miles Edgeworth was his fiancé.
Another heaving sob from the defense attorney forced the kiss apart, and he opted to simply bury himself against Miles’ neck, beaming and crying all the while. He snuggled as close as he could possibly manage, and relished in the feeling of hands embracing him tightly. There, he attempted to compose himself, but naturally, the opposing man didn’t make things easy.
“Pull yourself together, Wright,” Miles softly jested, his voice thick with moisture, “You’re yanking me down with you.”
“I c-can’t,” he half-laughed half-sobbed.
“Mm...Perhaps I should take advantage and christen your finger with a ring first then...”
Sobs leant more towards laughter then, the defense attorney tightly hugging the prosecutor before leaning back in the embrace.
“N-nice try! We’re still doing this together.”
“We need both hands, silly,” Miles huffed before cocking an amused brow at his partner, “Though, judging by our differing composure, I relinquish my previous statement and deem it appropriate that you go first. Before you collapse on me, that is.”
“God, I love you...” Phoenix laughed, “And yeah, no promises...”
They both snickered, before turning their attention downward. Eyeing the two rings almost choked Phoenix up something terrible, but he managed to hang on by a mere thread. He focused on the band he intended to gift, the essence of his partner, fixating on completing the beautiful tradition. With a hand, he removed the precious ring from its box. And then shakily, softly, reverently, did he grab Miles’ hand with one of his own, and slip the band onto his finger with the other.
He shivered at the sight, at the ring finally resting in its proper place. But he barely had time to process before Miles began to mirror, slipping the opposing ring onto his tanner finger in return.
And then red truly danced with blue. Blue completely intertwined with red. Two colors dazzled and sparkled beside each other- just as they had for years, and would continue to do so for the rest of their days.
Phoenix could do nothing but stare for what seemed like an eternity, his trance only broken by Miles bringing their hands upward. Once more did he press soft kisses to Phoenix’s fingers, the weight of which was far greater now. The defense had no choice but to articulate.
“I’m...I’m going to marry you.”
Phoenix let out another round of gasping breaths, and was sure his smile was going to split his cheeks as he uttered the dreamlike phrase once more.
“Oh my God...I’m going to...marry you, Miles...We’re engaged.”
“We are...” the prosecutor quietly reaffirmed.
Shivering laughs trembled both bodies, before Phoenix gently pried his hands free. He immediately reached to frame Miles’ face, and the new glisten to his finger forced further cascades down his cheeks.
“We did it...” he laughed.
And the expression that had washed over his fiancé’s face was like nothing he had ever seen. It seemed to carry a level of adoration he didn’t even know existed. It seemed to be comprised of more warmth than that of the sun on the horizon. It seemed to be an expression entirely reserved for him.
All of which told Phoenix that he had, in fact, made the best decision of his life. Though, the following murmured word from his beloved hammered it in, cemented them fully on the unified plane.
“Finally...”
61 notes · View notes
anonil88 · 3 years
Text
Malcolm and Marie live blog
I don't usually do liveblogs for movies but yea.
Spoilers ahead!!
I love that its modern timed but very 70s stylized.
A tune indeed.
When you are high and drunk on success and
How the white critic reacts is why I feel like gatekeeping my scripts. At the same time some things I do make are about race or involve.
Marie sitting on the patio smoking is a mood whenever men are talking.
So he's pretentious and unaware.
Whoever chose the music for this, I feel like we would be Spotify mutuals.
Can this nigga stop pacing.
Also can he stop talking;
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Marie is so tired and unimpressed.
Also little booties matter and are to be bitten.
Oooo the tension and the jazz.
Title Card over mac and cheese.
Shitty boxes mac and cheese but still mac and cheese.
Tbh i always wonder if spouses/significant others get upset when their spouses don't acknowledge them during speeches.
John sounds so much like his dad but I really hope his acting style differs from his dad a lot.
Guilty confession?
He did not profit off of his partners backstory and then not even acknowledge her.....I.....
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If that ever happened to me catch me cussing my partner out during the beginning credits, the end credits, in the car, and at home.
GASLIGHTER!
The way I'm excited for Zendaya to give me some, oooo can she work with Regina King. Please on my knees I pray.
Um no that's not your job to coddle your lead.
He's a dick and the type of dick who makes himself look like a good person around other people.
If Sam Levinson is trying to make his viewers more of misandrist, it's working.
I feel like Marie has her flaws probably a lot of them and we will surely see as this continues, but Malcolm needs to learn how to apologize sincerely.
70s vibes! 70s vibes!
Them kissing and talking about criticism and dreams makes me miss a partner. A partner that I've had and haven't had.
Women really are behind every great man.
Yea sir you fucked a happy moment.
Oh visual allegories for looking in from the outside and cat and mouse chasing and looking from the outside in.
She's saying she doesn't feel noticed by you.
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Gas lighter :0 he called her an emotional support dog, bruh.
I would LOVE to co-write or take a writing class held by Sam Levinson. The fights i write are very much in this same realm of reflection and anger and monologue.
Sam.....sam.....are all the sides inside of you doing okay sir?
The ugly side of dating and being in a relationship with someone who struggles with their own demons.
Honestly I could close my eyes and listen to this script being read without seeing these characters visually. Just close my eyes and get a sense of these characters like it was a radio story.
Oh. Oh this is a new wheelhouse of Zendaya acting; a different voice is like breaking through here and her expressions aren't the same we are used to. You can literally hear another character in there....hmm.
Mans is outside really fighting with his invisible demons lmfao.
Selfish ass, how after everything she said you came out of it thinking about your own craft and self instead of how you hurt her.
So she's conditional.
Me: did sam (a white man) say nigga this many times in his script or are the actors adding their own inflections. Not just the lingo used but the topic of race and directing etc. being written by a white writer about black characters is always gonna be a critique when you're writer is a white person.
Alexa play Broken Girls by Saba
He is so hurtful.
A clown nigga a clown look in the fucking mirror you bozo head ass looking like you need some Mehron clown white and a size 16 in clown shoes.
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John is doing a really swell performance and reading of these lines.
He is reading her for her insecurities by bringing up his experiences with other women and that.....is yikes.
Arguments can get messy like this in real life but it takes a lot of maturity and control to either not let it get to this point or have a healthy conversation afterwards.
This film is really shot on some very crisp lenses.
They sitting there like 🚬🧍‍♀️🧍‍♂️.
Leftover Mac and Cheese and unfinished cigarettes.
The nyt etc. pay walls are so annoying, but there is a work around look at the articles on incognito or add a period at the end of the url.
He sounds like his daddy so much here, weird, this is the only part I'm eh on the dialogue it feels real but a bit out of pace in how they are bouncing off one another.
Nail scissors? So the end is not the only part he based off of Marie. 🙄
ITS A GOOD REVIEW YOU DINGUS but also its a full review they are going to critique things. She isn't wrong though he did profit off of a woman's story that was not his own to profit from.
Yes Malcolm because unfortunately all marginalized people look through a lens of life that is inherently political because of the world they live in.
He is so mad and upset and had a lot on his chest. But I think he Malcolm and Sam are talking about something thats an issue and a non issue. Being critiqued for you art is hard but also Malcolm is not super self aware. He's like a stand in figure of for example rich depop sellers who wanna be oppressed so badly they yell at others instead of examining their own personal behaviors and ethics.
Oh Marie, when you know the spark is gone and you pick fights because.
He ain't even ask her to read?
One critic I have for most of hollywood actors is they learn their cry and that is it. A change from this is Margot Robbie, I adore her fluctuations of crying being similar but the crying is carried differently for each character. If I had to say any actor that does a cry scene amazing its this woman right here (Amy Adams)
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You stole her story from her and gave it away, she has a right to be upset and angry and a rubber band ball of emotions.
Citizen Kane, not the cinematography, but the story is it even that good? (Unpopular opinion but meh, maybe in my rewatch it will be better.)
But that is what people want authenticity and whatever authenticity means to them. What is real for one is false for another.
To be honest look at the criticism of Euphoria, well earned, but a lot of people were like this isn't real even though he literally wrote about his own life. People said it was inauthentic like....wtf.
Ahh the smoking is just a habit, he quit and she didn't.
CAST ZENDAYA IN A HORROR MOVIE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. Get Lupita and Zendaya and some more black actors preferably less known ones in a horror movie. One with a interesting script and story, directed by Regina King. Please and thankyou.
I love Marie yep that was amazing.
Behind every great man is a greater woman, one that deserves her credit for how she has stood behind. I wonder the stories of those women, what they have sacrificed or not sacrificed. Their thoughts and feelings when the world is surrounding their partner and views them as a plus one. (I'd write a short script about this but I think do I have the time, can I, or am I equipped ?)
He is a shitty person for bringing up his exes, like she even said I don't wanna know any of that.
Imagine being on anti depressents and rarely having a sex drive and then when you do your partner starts talking about their exes and tearing you apart for all your faults.
I love when you see peaks of Zendaya's cadence in roles.
Tension, what if's and he didn't even bring her up in his speech.
Marie to herself and the audience:
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He is not afraid that he will loose her but as my character says in my unreleased story, "i can't wait til you give me a fucking reason to leave your ass." Malcolm expects everything in order for not even doing the bare minimum and she is only asking him for something as simple as consideration. She just wants him to be considerate. He wants to get married and considers their relationship like rolling down a hill at full speed and he cannot apologize, he cannot be considerate, and he cannot admit his wrongs. He can only offer her I love yous that he probably does mean but he does not back up outside of what he's done for her in the past. The past which was more of her experience than his and he sees his part in it as a burden. He doesn't use his own vantage point of the past to further his career he uses her. He does all of these things without a real apology or thankyou because he is not afraid to loose her.
The restrictions of quarantine and the panorama have made Sam's writing very no frills. I wonder how other films from other directors and writers that are filmed in small contained crews like this will be structured. But this was a very good movie gonna add to my letter box 3.3-3.5
Oh shit this is my song,
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Ratings/overall thoughts:
Script is like a C+, B- : I could go into my heavier big brain thoughts on the script but I don't feel like it. You catch hints of it above it centers conversation on race and privilege, mainly the writers and questions i have that won't be answered but Sam did make me grow disdain for Malcolm over a short time. Which is sometimes hard to do because im one sympathetic person but the sympathy i have for Malcolm is at 0. Maybe a 2 at some scenes but then it quickly goes back to 0. Some parts of the dialogue miss the mark or hit the are off balanced. While some of it like Malcolm's bathroom speech albeit mean is really strong or their conversation when he comes back from peeing really shines for me.
Performances: B+ to A- because they carried the script further than it could of gone with less talented actors. The monologues do well to showcase their current skill levels which are already high af and leave room for anticipation in where these actors go next.
Zendaya holding a knife: A+ with a gold star. That switch on and off and on is delectable.
John being a shitty boyfriend but following Marie like a lost puppy: B+ with a good job written at the bottom of the paper, Malcolm being nervous a frantic dialed up with more realistic nervousness would have sold me completely on Malcolm's anxious waiting.
Cinematography: A and a participation award.
The mac and cheese: A+ for the easy mac. Wish it was like Annie's or Velveeta.
Cigarettes: Participation award and their picture hung up for student of the month. Why the grill lighter? Everytime Malcolm opened up his mouth Marie was like sparks fly.
The music: A++ with a prize. Whoever picked the music probably makes good Spotify playlists.
258 notes · View notes
skywardscroll · 3 years
Text
divine intervention | venti
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✧ word count: 2.5k
✧ summary: baring witness to world can become wearisome. venti, though you don’t really know him, wants to help.
✧ warnings: really angsty with some fluff thrown in! the reader has depression / there is self-deprecation. reader is also afab!
✧ a/n: this is so sweet >-< . i’m really proud of this one! also, writing klee is literally the funnest thing ever lol. <3 hope you guys enjoy!!
Teyvat, as you’d come to learn through your years, was a dangerous, merciless world. Every day, people lost their fathers, sisters, friends, and lovers. The world was full of greedy bandits and vicious monsters, and it only seemed to be getting worse as the days went by.
This last adventure out to Liyue had really taken the optimism out of you; Growing weary from traveling, you returned to your home in Mondstadt quite exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally. Was there any other facet of you that could be exhausted? Because you were sure that it would also be stricken with strife.
You told the Adventurer’s Guild that you were temporarily retiring from your work to take a well-overdue vacation from fighting and the ever-arising political strain you witnessed every time you left the City of Freedom. You just wanted to enjoy your safe corner of the world, at least for the summer.
The (admittedly strange) way you decided to do this was by staying indoors with your books, sometimes going entire days without once stepping into the sunlight. It was a pleasant way to spend the time, but you knew it was unhealthy.
Your books, when the main characters shared similar habits to you, called this behavior ‘depression.’ Though, you willfully ignored this, pretending that this was normal of someone with a heavy heart (just a heavy heart. Not all the other symptoms that you were falsely denying you had, like an aversion to engagements with friends, or a neglect of hydration.)
It was one of the hottest days in July, you remembered, when you heard a knock on your door. You contemplated answering it, thinking that maybe the Adventurer’s Guild would want you back to work prematurely. This was quickly disproven, though, when a small voice called from outside the door:
“Miss Y/N? Oh, Miss Y/N~! Please come out!”
Klee’s sweet voice seemed to somehow wrap itself around your heart and pull you towards the door.
“Miss Y/N?”
You hesitated, knowing that once you saw that endearing child’s round eyes, you would be forced to play outside with her for as long as she wanted you to. You loved Klee dearly, and would do anything for her, even if you didn’t necessarily wish to go along with it. But you really didn’t feel like leaving your house, knowing that the Freedom Festival was currently in full swing.
“Y/N? Are you in there?” You recognize a second voice to belong to Grandmaster Jean.
Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to see Klee’s face light up as she excitedly pulled on Jean’s hand.
“She opened the door! She did! I told you Y/N would open the door!”
“Y/N!” Jean said, obviously surprised by your appearance. “It’s so good to see you’re well.”
“It’s good to see you two, as well.” You said with full honesty. You hadn’t realized it until you saw them before you, but you had certainly missed seeing your friends.
“Y/N! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go to the Freedom festival with us! There’ll be food, and music, and I overheard Rosaria saying something to Kaeya about special drinks!”
“Oh… I don’t know…”
“Come on! It’ll be fun! They have this game, and it has a prize that looks like a biiiig dodoco! I want it but if you come you can have it!” Klee’s excitement makes a smile appear on your face.
“You should come, Y/N. It would be good for you, I think.”
You sighed a little, looking back at your book which sat with the pages down against the cushion of your reading chair, waiting to be returned to. But as if by design, the wind carried the smell of food into your door and your stomach rumbled. Besides, Klee’s eyes were bearing into your heart just as you predicted, and you could see Jean’s hand clasp onto Klee’s a little tighter in hopes that she wouldn’t be disappointed.
“Alright, I’ll come.”
If you were to be frank, you had no idea what the difference between the Windblume Festival and the Freedom Festival was. To you, it just seemed like another concocted excuse to party. Which, in your youth, you never complained about, and you weren’t inclined to complain now, either, as Sara handed you a particularly delicious-looking chicken and mushroom skewer. You hadn’t eaten something like this in a month, and it was very welcome in your stomach.
“Over there! It’s Venti! Venti!” Klee went running ahead of you and Jean, who were idly speaking to one another as you finished off your food and threw the stick away.
“Klee! Don’t run off!” Jean called out, running after the young girl while you walked a bit behind, enjoying the scenery of Mondstadt decorated in flowers and it’s streets lined with vendors.
“Hi Klee!” You looked up and saw a man hug Klee tightly (a boy? He was quite short, but you were pretty sure he was an adult.) It was hard not to notice the golden lyre in his hand and how the strings seemed to be luminescent. You’d never seen anything like it before, and accidentally stared at it in clear awe.
“Do you play?” He asked, a smile that seemed to lift your heart was directed to you after the question left his lips.
“No… Not anymore. I tried to learn when I was a child but…”
“That’s alright. It takes a lot of practice, yeah?”
You let out a breathy laugh and nod, “Yeah, I guess so.”
Jean scooped up Klee into her arms before she could run off again. “You two haven’t met before?”
“Sadly no.” Venti said, placing his hand over his heart. “I would’ve remembered such a beautiful face, surely.”
Bard’s and their sweet words. You thought to yourself. Out of kindness, you only laughed in response to his compliment.
“I’m Y/N.”
“Ahh! I’ve heard of you! The exceptional adventurer!”
Why does this guy say everything so enthusiastically? Is this what you used to sound like? His way of speaking, though you felt guilty for it because you knew he couldn’t help it, grated against your nerves. You weren’t in the right mindset for his optimism. Or, perhaps, it was that you were jealous that he still had a hold on his, and so easily too, while it had been so long since you were excited about anything.
When you didn’t say anything, there was a small look in Venti’s eyes that told you he could see right through you, or that he was at least aware that something was wrong with you.
“Well, I ought to be on my way back home.” You said, causing Klee to whine out.
“Y/N~! You can’t go yet! What about the giant dodoco?”
You frowned, feeling guilty for letting Klee down, but feeling too exhausted for any more socialization.
“At least stay for a song, Y/N?” Venti offered with a quieter tone of voice, pointing to a chair that was left unoccupied by the gathering crowd around him.
“Yeah! Just one song~?” Klee pleaded.
You bit the inside of your cheek before eventually nodding and sitting in the chair. Klee let out a cheer of celebration as Jean sat down beside you, letting Klee sit in her lap. You noticed how Jean had been particularly silent throughout this. Did she feel bad for you? Or did she, too, want you to stay for some reason?
“I’ll sing a very special song for a new friend!” Venti announced to the audience, to which you blushed a little at the attention and rolled your eyes. Though, once Venti’s fingers started gracing the strings of his harp, all feelings of discomfort and irritation floated away.
“Sit here closely, let me tell,
of the young maiden’s heart who one day swelled.
The once frozen walls, the once salty tears,
Now gone with a kiss that she wished had lasted years.
In the times of old, long before the gods were bold,
there was no remedy for a heart gone cold.
The young maiden wandered, hoping for peace
from the heartache and unrest the world did unleash.
Did she find it, you ask? Did she find it? I’ll tell.
She found it in freedom, from freedom it fell.
For Barbatos did bless her, from under the Windrise tree,
She only had to meet him in the morning at three.
The warmth she had searched for, that unlike she had ever known
was hers, finally, to own.”
The crowd clapped for Venti as he finished his short song, one that was unfamiliar to you and unsettled you to no end.
What was his motive?
You weren’t stupid. You’d read enough of your books in the last month and been on enough adventures with a multitude of twists and turns to know that he had just come up with that song for you. As beautiful as it was, you felt uncomfortable with the stranger being able to see through you so well.
Yet, when he flashed you a cheeky smile while he reveled in the applause, you felt that he had good intentions. In fact, you wondered if he could do any wrong. He just didn’t seem like the type to do anything evil… Ever.
“Did you like it, Klee?” Venti asked, bending down to talk to the girl who wriggled excitedly in Jean’s lap.
“Yes! It was sooooo pretty! I’ve never heard it before!” She gushed.
“A very lovely song, indeed, Venti.”
“Thanks Jean!” Venti flashed her a confident grin.
“Well, Y/N! Thanks for staying for the show!” He said, standing back up and turning to you. “I hope I can see you again soon!”
“Yeah. See you soon.” You replied with a half-hearted tone.
You were entirely conflicted. Your mind was telling you no; You shouldn’t go out there tonight. It was dangerous and you were significantly out of shape to be dealing with slimes and hilichurls. Besides, it was just a song… What if you were reading too much into it? And what if… You just wanted him to be singing about you and him?
Your heart wanted that to be true. It’d be like the books you’ve been reading, where the prince comes up with some elaborate way of asking the maiden to meet him in secret. You were, no matter how hardened you became, a hopeless romantic at heart. Something about Venti made your heart soar from the pits of depression you had fallen into. You… Trusted him.
You could do with a late-night walk, you supposed.
It took longer than usual because of the festivities, but the city eventually fell silent as everyone either rested in their beds or in a tavern. You found walking in the empty city strangely comforting. Rather than being shut away from the world out of fear of pestering others, you could now walk freely without a single care, if you so pleased.
You took your time walking out of the city, smiling at every stray cat and even stopping for a moment at the bridge to admire the water. You missed how, when you were a young girl, you used to look at the lake and dream about visiting all the other lakes in the world. You’d seen a lot of them, now, but this one still held a special place in your heart.
Windrise, though it had been years since you visited the Archon Statue, was as beautiful as ever. The tree looked even more alive in the moonlight, if it were possible.
You were raised to believe that you were under the protection of Barbatos, though you never would call yourself devout. That title belonged to the sisters of the church, who were truly faithful to Barbatos. But you would feel comfortable saying you were a believer. You liked that Barbatos was so just, and his famous story of his liberation of old Mondstadt was a tale you frankly would never tire of.
Regardless, as you sat in front of the statue, you saw no signs of the charming bard from before. You wondered if he memorized that tale of Barbatos; A part of you wanted to hear him tell it.
“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” You said, talking to the statue (not talking to yourself.) “A silly, odd, hermit of a fool. One who shuts themselves away and avoids all their problems. How cowardly can I be?”
A peculiar phenomenon began: The words started pouring out like an uncontrollable waterfall. Once the self-deprecation started, it didn’t seem to want to end.
“My family was so proud to hear I was a part of the guild. They said that you – that Barbatos – had blessed me with the life of an adventurer – a life of freedom. Am I selfish to despise it? I don’t feel free. I feel heavy with all the troubles of the world. Outside Mondstadt it’s… Well, you’re a god, you know how it is.”
You hadn’t spoken much to anyone in over a month. You didn’t even know if anyone was listening. Was he listening? Did he see the tears starting to run down your face and did he hear the cracking in your voice?
“I feel like a joke. A witness to trouble without the power to make things right. It’s so… Frustrating. I hate myself because I hate the world. I’m so useless… So useless.”
And you cried, your head leant against the statue of Barbatos. The months of pain finally bubbled over and bared itself for the world and the gods to see. You were ashamed, and angry at yourself, but you let yourself cry. You cried up to the heavens, to Celestia. Was he watching? Listening?
“Y/N?” A voice softly spoke your name, but your sobs turned into wails immediately following and you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you wanted to.  You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and you hugged Venti back, breathing in his scent of Cecilia. He was so warm compared to the cool summer breeze that blew through the leaves above.
“I’m sorry.” You cried against his shirt; the words muffled but still understandable. There were so many apologies you were making with the single phrase: Sorry for crying, sorry for being rude. Sorry for shutting everyone who cares about me out. I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
“You don’t have to hide your tears from me, okay?” His voice was so soft and gentle as he pulled your head away from his chest and wiped away your ever-flowing tears from your cheeks.
This went on for a while, him running his thumbs over your cheeks every few minutes and catching the tears. You felt so awful that he was witnessing you like this, he barely knew you. But something in you was saying that this was right. Trust him, this is where you’re meant to be.
You calmed down enough about an hour later that he felt he could speak.
“Everything will be alright, Y/N.”
You let out a jagged exhale. At this point, your jaw was numb, and you were developing a headache. Still, being in Venti’s arms brought you comfort unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was… Divine.
“Do you think he heard me? That he’s watching over me?”
Venti gave you the most assured, comforting smile you think is humanly possible. Brushing your hair from your face, he replied.
“I’ve never been so certain of anything.”
77 notes · View notes
sundiscus · 3 years
Text
wangxian dragon age au: ficlet
[part of a larger au i’ve mapped out + started drafting, but want to post as snippets for now! i’ve taken many liberties with the worldbuilding, and as such i think most can be inferred with context if you’re unfamiliar with dragon age.
part one now here
this snippet: the meet-ugly, ~1.7k]
✨✨✨
When Lan Wangji wakes up, he isn’t alone.
He doesn’t realize it right away. The first thing he notices is that, this time, there are no shackles. He shifts his hands the slightest bit, enough to confirm they are indeed free. The movement pulls at the little cuts on his fingers and forearms from where the shackles shattered apart, already scabbing over—so he has been unconscious long enough for the magebane to burn out of his system, which he confirms, finding his meridians free and clear. He’s lying on his back, something that feels slightly too soft to be a stone floor under him and something that feels slightly too rough to be a blanket draped over him. An odd green light pulses against his eyelids and the only sound is a muted, continuous hiss, like a distant waterfall. Wherever he is, it isn’t the cell from earlier.
It doesn’t matter. He won’t be here long.
He takes one more slow breath, listening closely. There. To his left, a few paces away, he hears a tiny, cut-off inhale. Now he knows where to aim. His eyes fly open as he launches himself upright, summoning his sword into his raised hand, and—
It’s like expecting the ocean and finding only a puddle. His sword flickers into existence for the barest moment, its glow illuminating a circle of stone walls, a pallet beneath him, and then Lan Wangji’s lungs stutter, pressure squeezing his temples, as if all air has been sucked out of the room. Bichen dissipates and Lan Wangji is left gasping, one hand still raised uselessly in the air.
From the shadows, someone says: “Ah, that’s not going to work.”
Lan Wangji is already looking to the side. He sees only a figure at first, because when his sword disappeared so had the strange, omnipresent green glow. The glow returns now, slowly illuminating a young man curled against the opposite wall, his hair a dark, tangled wave over his shoulders, wrists chained together with thick iron manacles. For a moment his eyes, staring right back at Lan Wangji, are the brightest thing in the room.
“What do you mean?” Lan Wangji demands, finding his voice. “Is there a suppression array?” It must be powerful to choke off his magic so finitely. If he can see it, though, he can figure out how to undo it.
The man wrinkles his nose. “Not exactly. But—ah, ah,” he says as Lan Wangji starts to stand, “don’t move too fast, the blowback from that is going to be pretty harsh.”
Lan Wangji understands almost instantly as a wave of vertigo hits him. His knees buckle before he’s halfway to his feet and he collapses back on the pallet, bracing his weight on his elbow to keep from falling entirely. When his ears stop ringing he can hear his own ragged breathing.
Enough, he thinks, and forces himself to even his breaths. To shift focus. Clearly whatever precautions Wen Chao and his soldiers have taken to secure this room go beyond magebane and a simple suppression array. He won’t be able to escape by sheer force like last time, but this will still be no more than a brief detour on his journey. He will make sure of it.
Yesterday—was it yesterday, now? The chamber has no windows, just the eerie green glow emanating from the walls—Lan Wangji had been traveling with a retinue of junior enchanters to retrieve research texts from the Circle in Hedong, where scholars claimed to have promising studies related to fade rifts. They were nearly there when a raven alighted on Lan Wangji’s shoulder, bearing the message: Siege on Gusu Circle. Reconvene to the north. He’d sent the junior enchanters ahead and turned back before the raven even took flight.
(The note had not mentioned his brother, so his brother must be alive. Rumors were already spreading outward from Gusu as he rode, saying Wen Xu had an archdemon, Wen Xu burned the Gusu library to the ground. They did not say Wen Xu killed Zewu-jun, Wen Xu killed a mage with a glowing hand. So his brother must have escaped. Knowing this did not stop Lan Wangji’s heart from racing as he spurred his horse faster, past refugee settlements and Templar camps, toward the distant gash in the sky.)
And then: a poisoned arrow biting into his arm, his horse crumpling on a hardpacked road outside Lingchuan. The Wen soldiers, ready for him. (Not ready enough, when at least six of their bodies fell before Lan Wangji did.) One day in the first cell, his failed escape attempt.
And now: magicless, trapped in a strange room with a strange, sharp-eyed prisoner watching him struggle to sit upright, the slow crawl of time a physical weight on Lan Wangji’s shoulders.
“Honestly, just ride it out,” the prisoner is saying. He has his chained hands up and open, like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal. “You’ll feel better in about an hour. Maybe less, if you’ve had a good meal recently.”
Lan Wangji’s head spins sickeningly. He ignores it, pushing himself up until he can prop himself against the wall, putting himself eye-level with the prisoner, at least.
“Or sit up anyway, I suppose,” the prisoner says. His voice has a ragged edge, as if it’s scraping its way out of his throat. “Sorry, I’d offer you some water, but I drank it all before I knew I’d have company. What are you doing here, anyway?”
If First Enchanter Lan wants his nephew back, he’ll have to lend us a few books, Wen Chao had mocked from outside the first cell. And if he wants you back with all your limbs attached, he’ll have to throw in trading deeds with the eastern lyrium mines for good measure. Do you think he can deliver that before you die here?
Wen Chao wanted demonic texts, Lan Wangji had guessed, the ones hidden deep within the library. No doubt for some dangerous, power-hungry scheme, and no doubt connected to the rifts. From there, it wasn’t hard to piece together that the attack on the Circle was meant to discover which texts were critical enough to be rescued and transported away, and likely steal them in transit. There are protocols for such events, Lan Wangji knows, and his presence here means the raid was unsuccessful, and he will be used as leverage for a second attempt.
If Wen Chao meant to scare Lan Wangji with his demands, he had only succeeded in doing the opposite. Because if all they want from Lan Wangji’s family are books and deeds, it means they don’t know about his brother yet.
Lan Wangji doesn’t share any of this. “Political prisoner,” is all he says.
“Ahh.” The man nods. “I figured, what with the…” He gestures at his own forehead, chains clinking as he does. “You’re obviously a Lan. Someone will pay well to have you back home.”
“They should not have to pay at all,” Lan Wangji bites out. Something about the prisoner’s casual attitude grates at him. The world outside is quite literally falling apart at the seams, and Lan Wangji doesn’t have time to be used as bait in Wen Chao’s small-minded games.
The prisoner shrugs. “Yeah, but there’s not much choice at the moment, is there? For now you’re stuck here with me. I’m—my name is Wei Ying, by the way. What should I call you, while we wait?”
“Do the Wen soldiers enter this cell often?” Lan Wangji says instead of answering. “Is there a chance of overpowering them?”
A grimace. “Often enough. And no, I’ve tried. They’re stupid, but they’re prepared.”
Lan Wangji casts another glance over the man—Wei Ying—and carefully keeps any skepticism out of his expression. Then he looks around properly for the first time. Wei Ying is right—there’s no visible array on the floor, no glyphs on the circular stone walls. The green glow fades as it climbs the wall, leaving the ceiling cloaked in shadow and dizzying to look at, like an endless tunnel. Disturbingly, there isn’t a visible door, either. There isn’t much of anything but the one straw pallet, a lidded pot against the wall, an empty bowl next to Wei Ying, bone-dry, and Wei Ying himself.
“A Lan,” Wei Ying says when Lan Wangji is silent for long enough, pitched low, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’m surprised Wen Chao would be so bold. He has to know that won’t go over well in the long run, I wonder if his father has any idea? No, he would’ve sent Wen Xu. Maybe Wen Chao thinks that by the time someone comes for you, he’ll have—” Wei Ying cuts himself off. Blinks. “You are real, aren’t you?”
Lan Wangji narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, you’re not…” Wei Ying waves a hand at the room around them. “But, ah, why would I dream up a whole Knight-Enchanter? A Lan at that? You felt real enough, when I dragged you onto the pallet, but it’s still hard to tell.” Lan Wangji must have some reaction to that—to knowing this stranger’s hands have been on him, when he was unconscious—because Wei Ying adds, defensive: “What was I supposed to do? They left you on the floor.”
Lan Wangji doesn’t have an answer to that.
Wei Ying tips his head back against the wall. “Well. Your Circle, they have your phylactery, right? They’ll find you. Pay the ransom, or lay siege to Wen Chao’s little fortress here. That would be nice.” He casts his gaze over Lan Wangji again. “Looks like our captors were gentle enough in the meanwhile.”
There’s dried blood tugging at the hair of Lan Wangji’s temple, and he still has the nauseating sense that if he moves too fast he might collapse again. Gentle isn’t how Lan Wangji would describe his treatment so far. But it is also far below the threshold of what he can withstand, so it doesn’t seem like a point worth arguing. “And you?” he hears himself say.
“Uh.” Wei Ying shifts and holds up his shackled hands. “Less gentle, I suppose.”
“I meant—who will be paying your ransom.”
Wei Ying drops his hands into his lap. “Oh. No one.”
“Then,” Lan Wangji says, “why are you here?”
For the first time, Wei Ying flashes a smile. A hooked dagger in the dim light.
“I have something they want.”
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alvhiedeir · 3 years
Text
Little Red Elf
Thor X Reader
3174 words
This is longer than intended and quite different than requested and I have no excuse than my lack of discipline but I hope this is good enough
You are seriously thinking about investing on a security camera.
No, it wasn't that you were worried about being robbed. It's was being, 'gifted'.
In an almost daily basis, different items would make it's way to your doorstep. Black roots, hyacinth, hellebores, poppies and other herbs that would usually not grow around the area. It was nice, that was the first thought you had. You were no Circe, the great witch of Aiaia, but such ingredients could and did help greatly with your draughts. So as much as this occurrence should startle you, you brushed it off as the doing of one of your friends working for Lord Osanyin who would usually send you samples of anything new. You figured business was just doing better than usual for her to give you this much.
Two weeks, it continued on. When you rise for the day, there would be a neatly placed bundle of herbs or plant on your front steps. Always perfectly centered. And for two weeks, you accepted each and everything in such giddiness.
That is until you until today.
"I haven't been given you anything, (y/n)," She turned away from the selves she was organizing and continued, "it's been pretty busy lately for the last month with the arrival of new supply from Asia."
Her answer gave you a sudden feeling of uneasiness.
"Then who," your voice trailed, dragging the weariness and alert in the air. Your friend was quick to catch the shift of your mood.
"But think about it," she placed the bottle she was holding and walked towards you, "those herbs are rare and what are the chances of a random miscreant obtaining it?"
It eased your nerves a bit to hear her words.
"Or maybe, you finally have an admirer even if your always holed up in your home!"
She laughed at the jesting glare you sent.
"Like you're any better, cat lady."
"Hey! Having four cats does not count as being a cat lady!"
"Sure, whatever you say."
You shared a laugh, the tension thinning out. After saying a few words, she went back to the counter to pack the herbs that you bought, the reason why you were there in the first place.
"You bought quite a lot. What is it for anyway?"
"Loki wanted some draughts to "bring entertainment around this damn boring halls", his words not mine."
She laughed, commenting how it sounded just like him. She handed you the carefully packed products, with a small purple ribbon tied on the basket as she always did for you.
Just as you're about to leave she called out.
"If you're still disturb about the whole mysterious gifts, why don't you try staying up to see who it is?" You thanked her for her suggestion and concern and with a wave, headed back home.
To say the least, her suggestion was not very successful.
After you went home, you got started on the ordered draughts and by the time the moon greeted the sky, your eyes were already heavy. Being stubborn, you stayed sitting in your kitchen, chair facing the window to see if anyone or anything would past by.
The minutes were slow and before you knew it, the sun has reclaimed its place. And there was yet another gift. A freshly uprooted crab apple tree that barely passes as an adult. How in the world did they get this one?
Another week fast approached and the gifts arrived just as fast. Cornel bark, elecampane, silver fir, the list goes on. Each night, you attempt to desperately stay awake to catch but a glimpse would always end up with you succumbing to sleep. It didn't matter if it was for hours or a mere minute, by the moment your eyelids flutter open, it was already there. Perfectly centered as always, in an almost mocking way.
"You missed us again", you could hear the ridicule from it.
As days flutter, the gifts and your frustrations would only intensify. One time it was antlers from a dear Australia. The other day it was the tusk of a bore. Yesterday it was the blood of steed. The last one made you panic a bit, but thankfully in came only in a small vial. It eased your nerves, albeit slightly that the animal was minimally harmed.
You tried sleeping in the morning so that so that you could roam at night. But when you rise from your chair for a drink or to go the toilet, the sneaky bastard have already placed another gift. You went as far as sitting on your doorstep for the whole night, but even that didn't help. The gift was on your window.
You were at your wits end with this "Persistent Santa" shenanigans (it was your friend who called them that. It was that or creepy-pile-of-dung-that-had-to-much-time). Whoever they were, they are good.
You sighed tiredly again, the dark bags proving Your fruitless efforts.
"Wow, you look miserable!" You silently snapped at the voice, too sleepy to argue but to proud to ignore it. His laugh was laugh, always happy to see others demise.
"Just give me the money, Loki." You impatiently thrust the basket full of draughts to him, eager to leave and maybe sleep for a few days.
"Aren't you greedy." The more he teases you, the more punching him right in the face became an increasingly good option. As if reading your voice, he raised his hands in mock surrender.
" I would pay you, but," he dragged his voice as floated closer to you, "I dont have my money right now. And the old man is calling me so can you wait a few minutes for me?" He smiled, oh-so-mockingly sweet at you.
A tomato would have been jealous of the tint of your check. The itching call for violence is now an unignorable howler. But before you can give in, the god of mischief is already pushing you into one of the rooms, claiming your silence as agreement. In a blink, you were in a well decorated room. The walls were cream in color and golden leaves decorated the corners. Threre were shelves of book against one side of the wall and-
"Wait a minute." Snapping out of your trance, you shouted, voice filled with vile, "Loki!"
But sadly, it came too late and the door have already been shut and only his feint mocking voice telling "enjoy!" Was heard from the other side.
You could sighed, pity for your own predicament. Moving towards one of the shelves with a colorful string of curse words following, you might sa well entertain yourself with something. The books were more old, and probably cost more than your soul. Each one was placed neat and organized, neither a speck or spot of dust could be seen. But one particular book caught your eye.
With a gentle finger, you traced the gold imprints on its spine.
Herbs, Medicine and Witchcraft
Unlike everything else, this one book was placed different. It was pulled slightly forward, as if recently placed back but someone else other than the organizer. When you pull it out, you also noticed the small, almost miniscule dirt on its cover. But other than that, it was nothing special.
"I didn't think they'll have this kind of book."
You sat down and flipped on a random page. It was filled with information about different plants that can be used for both medicine and, surprisingly witchcraft. It included their typical use, characteristics, side effects and their locations. And it was very specific too.
"I wonder if I can borrow this."
Page upon page was flipped, despite the fascination dwelling in you, drowsiness became unbearable. It was just so quiet and peaceful here. Maybe a few minutes won't hurt, right?
"Loki will be there for a while anyway. Might as well." Your reasoning seemed to make sense with your tired eyes and you rest your head. Not even bothered by the fact that you used the book as your pillow.
It'll just be few minutes anyway.
It wasn't a few minutes.
Slowly, your eyelids fluttered as consciousness begin to come back. You sighed contently, that nap certainly helped with your mood. You buried your nose deeper into the soft cloth you leaned on and inhaled. It smelled like fresh lilacs and the sun.
Wait, cloth?
You lifted your head and saw, indeed there was a neatly folded cloth on the place of the book. It was pale apricot, almost faded white and now that you are looking properly, it was a short robe?
"I starting to think you were not going to wake up."
Do you know the sound of a startled walrus with a respiratory disease? Imagine that, but worse. That how you sounded as you whipped your head in surprise to the voice. Right beside you was the god of thunder himself, Thor. The difference in size between him and the chair he was resting on was almost comical. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact you want to live a longer.
"He-hello Thor-sama." Damnit, what did you stutter?
He casted his eyes sideways to acknowledge your greeting, glacing right back into reading afterwards.
Looking yourself, it was then you noticed the book he was reading was the one you were previously sleeping on.
"It didn't seem like you were using it," his voice was monotone as for usual, "aside as a pillow, that is."
Ahh, the sheer pleasure of being swallowed by the ground right now would be nice.
"Ah! That- I! Yes..." You simply stared at your lap instead, fist clenched tightly on top. Better to stay quiet that to embarrass yourself further.
Thor was in between being an acquaintance and  a work friend. Neither of you talked much, aside from greetings and small talk but was more than used to his presence with the number of times you had to deliver things to Loki, enough so that you don't have to tremble everytime you meet.
But sitting this close, in a close space, alone, this was definitely the first time.
And it'll be the last if you're not careful.
The silence was suffocating, for you at least. You have almost jumped in your sit when he flipped a page in the book.
A minute passed and you are so closed to jumping out of the window. The room was too quiet. Making small talk won't be bad at times like this right?
"It's a nice book."
Wow. If you could, you would have hit yourself in the back of your head. Great thinking, really.
He merely nodded and the silence dragged once again.
"There's a lot of useful information in it."
Stop, just stop. Please stop digging your own grave.
"That's why it's a shame to be drooled on."
"I do not drool!"
In the distant, the sound of funeral bells rang clear in your head. The life you lived was good. Your friend will remember what flower you wanted to be placed on your coffin, and she can have your house, maybe even your-
Before you could complete your will, you heard a smallest of chuckle from the other god.
Huh?
You stared at Thor and sure enough, there's the tiniest arch in his lips. His eyes remains on the pages but - shit - has he always been this pretty?
Between the brief greetings and quick glances, it was hard to appreciate his beauty. Though mostly blank, his face was clear and smooth. Not a single blemish as one might expect from a god who knew battlefield as his home. He was no Aphrodite nor comparable to Paris, but he himself held a beauty of his own. You couldn't quite decide on if it was the light from the window or it was simply him that was glowing?
His neck flexed in the smallest notion as he read. The muscles of his shoulders were relaxed against the table.
Heavens. Those muscles.
You blushed on your thoughts. You tear your eyes away from his physique, the wooden table suddenly very interesting.
"It is rare to see you without Mjolnir, Thor-sama."
"I don't bring him when I read."
"Him?" The question lingered on your head. Was Thor one of 'those' people?
"Do you read often?"
"No."
"Are you interested in herbal medicine?"
"No."
"Is that so?" Your answer was awkward just as the air around you. But to the very least, the tension have eased out knowing that he didn't  obliterate you so far.
"Um, Thor-sama?"
Curse you and your need to fill in the silence.
"May I ask why you are reading a book about witchcraft? You do not seem the type to be interested in it." Realizing what you said was potentially insulting, you quickly apologized, eyes wide as you tried to explain. "Not that you don't look like it! What I mean is, um, - that." You stumbled over your own words with nervousness but he simply kept his eyes in the book, barely even glancing at you.
"... give you." His voice made you stop with your gibberish. Catching only the tail-end of his words, you looked at him questioningly. Only then did you realize that it has almost been a minute since he flipped a page, almost as if your question startled him as well.
"Ma-may you repeat that?"
There was a short pause before his answer came.
"So that I know what to give you."
Furrowed brows and confused eyes marked your features.
"So that I know what to give you."
His words repeated in your head, like an stubborn echo inside a cavern.
"I know what to give you."
"Give you."
"Give."
Oh shit.
"You're the Persistent Santa?!" The chair you previously sat on collided with the floor with a loud "thud". Hands planted heavily against the table, you casted accusing eyes to him.
Before any other words were uttered, your senses made its way back to your head like a harsh slap of water. You just yelled at the strongest Norse god. You might as well have dug your own hole and painted your tombstone.
But all fear and confusion left you as you stare at the fore mentioned god. He was not glancing down anymore but instead his eyes found its place opposite of your direction. And if one would look close, really intently stared, the faintest of red could be seen blooming in his cheeks.
"He-he's blushing."
Thor is blushing.
"You shouldn't be shouting here." His voice did not have the same air of threat and authority it usually holds. If your ears were right, it almost sounded like he was embarrassed.
Silently picking up the fallen chair, you sat down with your eyes burning holes the robe infront of you. Which you have almost forgotten was there.
Thinking back to the times you interacted with him, one word would usually come to mind. Quiet. He would acknowledge your presence or sometimes even greet you during the times you bump into one another but has never to made a conversation. Compared to Loki, you have always figured that maybe he was just more refined.
It wasn't until you heard his tale from your friend that you have gathered a sort of fear towards him. You knew how gods are, how vile and wrathful they are. And a god of his caliber could wipe you with a single flicker of his finger.
You would now bow and act more politely to him. Going as far as trying to avoid any contact with him.
But now sitting a mere foot apart, you felt no threat. No danger. And only then did you realize that you have never really felt any danger to begin with. When he speaks, he did not have the murderous aura that they claim to choke anyone.  He had never given you any reason to fear him, it was only you who decided to believed other's opinion.
"I'm sorry."
As if a trigger, his head turned to you upon hearing your timid voice but you dare not look at his eyes.
"You don't-"
"Not just for yelling."
Where did you get the courage to cut him off? You do not know. But, still with the false bravery, you continued.
"I mean, I have been very rude to you for a long time,"
"You have never been mean to me and I only returned the gesture by fearing you without any basis of."
With every fiber of yours screaming otherwise, you turned to look at him in the eye.
"I'm really sorry."
The longer you look into those golden eyes the more the heat on your neck spreads to your cheeks.
Guess his hair isn't the only thing red now.
"It's nothing," surprisingly it was Thor who turned away first. This time though, you eyes remained on him with a small smile. Youu have been missing out on so many things. But now, you have the eternity to catch up. And you're sure as hell you will.
"Thor-sama."
"Just Thor."
You laughed a bit, a sound that you did not notice brought a smile on his own lips.
"Why did you give me those gift anyway."
He turned his head to the other direction, but your keen eyes could see his tainted red ears.
"Loki said gifts were a good way to get close to someone." You grinned.
"I should have known better than listen to him."
His words dragged a loud laugh from you. The thought of him asking Loki, of all people for an advice was something you thought you'll never hear. And the small pout in his voice upon the next statement both brought you giddiness and butterflies.
Your hands instinctively covered your mouth, but still the sounds slipped through. And if you would have opened your eyes that moment, you would have seen the adoration in Thor's as he watches you.
Yes, it was embarrassing to ask his cousin for advice and finding those herbs was a hard task. But if seeing you like this, with lips arch into the most beautiful smile he have seen filled with happiness he once thought he couldn't bring you, then he would do it a thousand more.
Bonus:
Outside the closed doors, Loki grinned at himself. Trying to get you two was a pain with how standoffish Thor was by this was the most entertainment he had for a long time.
"What the hell are you doing?" It was one of Odin's crow that screeched from beging, as they watch the god smiling, and by experience it never means well.
"Oh nothing," he sing-songed. He floated pass his uncle but never before saying,
"Hope you're ready for grandkids!"
"Huh?"
But they did not receive an answer, only a chorus of laughter from the god of mischief as he drift away.
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If you don't know who's Circe is, she's a witch in the Greek mythology that turned sailors into pigs. Odysseus met her during his travel home from the Trojan war. She turned his men into pig too. And it's a book of Madeline Miller too! You should really read her books.
This was requested by @tenshi-san and I apologize that I might have strayed too far from your prompt. I really hope I did your husbando some justice. He was so hard to write because that only thing I can see him as is bored😂. But I hope you still like it!
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rosaliepostsstuff · 3 years
Text
Gingerbread men | G.W.
A Christmas Special
a/n: I've written this as a continuation of Weasley support system but you don't really need to have read it, it can be treated as a standalone piece. Pure fluff!
Summary: Christmas is coming, your eldest son has invited his crush over and all of you enjoy the Christmas Eve together.
word count: 1385
 Taglist general:  @izzyyy-1​ George:  @hufflepuff5972​ Weasley twins:  @pandaxnienke​
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 “Just no teasing today, okay?” you said to your husband, standing in front of your open wardrobe and talking to him through the open bathroom door. “What?” he mumbled, his mouth filled with toothpaste foam. “I asked you not to tease our son in front of Dylan today, love,” you said softly, pulling a jumper you had picked out off a rack. George spat into the sink, “What do you mean ‘tease’?” he asked, puzzled, turning the tap on.
You put on your jumper and grabbed a hair elastic, then walked over to your master bathroom. You stood next to him in front of the great mirror and began to tie your hair up. “I mean that Dylan’s coming here as his friend and I want no interfering with Luke’s love life,” you looked into his eyes in the reflection, as he patted his face with a towel, to make sure the message’s coming through, “you know how it is with crushes at that age…” “Yeah, I know, I had one…” He walked over behind you to place his hands on your hips and plant a kiss to the back of your now exposed neck, “smart, pretty, always drove me wild” he smiled at you cheekily through the mirror.
You tsk-ed and turned around to face him, trying to fight a grin off of your face. “I’m serious, love. The tiniest embarrassments seem like the end of the world. He has enough on his plate, so no jokes, no suggestions, no funny looks – nothing that would put him on the spot,” you finished, putting up a finger in front of his face.
George studied your eyes for a second, “you have very little faith in me, darling,” he placed a gentle peck on the tip of your finger, “but alright. I promise.”
 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————
 “Wow,” Dylan marvelled, after stepping into the main room and looking around the space, “This is brilliant, Mrs Weasley…”
They finally arrived after George and Luke set out together to pick him up and you’ve been waiting at home, occupying yourself with preparations.
You did take your Christmas decorating seriously. It wasn’t anything too over-the-top but the whole space was decorated with gentle garlands and some small decorations, illuminated by soft fairy lights. The main piece – Christmas tree, standing proudly by the window on the other side of the room.
You smiled widely, walking up to the boy.
“First of all, you can call me Y/N, I think you know me well enough. Secondly, it’s a group effort.” You said, meaning, of course, your whole family but giving very smug-looking George a look. “Welcome back, it’s been so long! But we’re so happy to have you,” you spread your arms wide to hug the boy.
“Shall I put the kettle on?” you asked excitedly and your son rolled his eyes in the back of the room.
   ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————
 “Oohh my goodness, why does it already smell so good…” groaned Ruby, leaning over the gingerbread dough as Vivian gave it a good poke.
You pulled the cookie cutters out of a drawer as Luke, Dylan and the twins took the stools by the kitchen island and then you poured them all out in front of the teens. You made yourself busy with rolling the dough as they each picked out their favourite shapes.
“George..?” you called out, not knowing where your husband was. You had talked to him ten minutes earlier and he knew you were about to start with the cookies, yet still, he hasn’t come to the kitchen.
No answer.
After a few more seconds of silence, you called out a bit louder, “George, darling..?”, getting ready to drop everything to look around the house for him.
“Coming, coming..!”, you heard from a corridor, then George appeared with a smile on his face and the sleeves of his festive jumper pulled up. You watched with your eyes a bit narrowed as he washed his hands.
“Where were you?” you asked curiously.
He pulled the rolling pin out of your hand and pushed you lightly with his hips to move you aside, “Talking to Jake,” he answered nonchalantly, resuming the work you had started.
 When you were done, and the cookies were sitting in the oven, he got around to placing all the gift boxes under the tree for the next morning. And instead of using the levitation or the locomotion charm he dramatically carried them by hand. Grunting and huffing, he glanced in your direction to make sure you saw him place an exceptionally huge package you haven’t seen before.
    ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————
 Later that day, after dinner, the whole house gathered around to decorate the cookies you had made earlier.
“Jacob..!” Vivian groaned as he grabbed a cookie off the tray and took a bite. “What? Stop being so tight and take a bite too…” he replied with his mouth full and on cue, Ruby appeared over his shoulder and swiped the rest off the cookie, which quickly disappeared inside her mouth as she high-fived her sister. “Daad!” Jake pleaded.
George looked between the three and sighed, trying not to laugh.
“See, dad knows I’m right, gobhead” Vivian teased before you came back with the rest of stuff needed for decorating. “All of you.” You said sternly setting things down on the island and sitting down.
The decorating passed alternately on playful banter in the warm atmosphere and in comfortable silence as everyone was working away, focusing on their tiny masterpieces.
Luke and Dylan spent especially long decorating a gingerbread man each, made to resemble the other, to exchange them later.
 ——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————
 “Ahh..” you relaxed, sitting down on the sofa next to George with a mug of hot chocolate in hand.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought his other hand with his own mug close to yours. “Merry Christmas, my love,” he said with a relaxed smile on his face and you clinked delicately, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” you replied, then you melted into his side. The both of you were sipping your hot drinks contently, half-listening to the kids hanging out a bit further away.
“I really like Christmas,” George started in a low voice, only for you to hear. You hummed in agreement. “It all goes by so fast but in moments like these you can just sit back and look at all this,” he nodded his head, referring to your family. You turned your head, still resting on his shoulder, to look up at him. “I mean, we made most of these, remember?” he joked, pointing his head at the teens in front of you. You chuckled, “Eh, more or less…” you teased and he laughed at you. “I’ll let this one slide because you have a hot drink in hand.” “How gracious indeed. I knew I married right,” you brought your hand up to the side of his face and kissed his cheek.
You admired your little family for a moment. They were all growing up so fast. Jacob was your little baby just a moment ago, now he was bound to hit puberty any moment. Your beautiful girls, both apples of George’s eyes, growing to be strong, fierce women. They were almost the age you were when you first started dating George. Lucas and Dylan were almost adults now and you tried not to think about him moving out anytime soon. But you couldn’t help the warmth spreading in your heart when you glanced at their hands, fingers intertwined.
“But really,” you said after a moment, “when we were still dating, you were fresh out of Hogwarts and we were starting to get serious…” Your voice was soft and quiet as you went back to that time in your mind, getting a bit nostalgic. “I knew you’d be the one, and we started talking about future a bit more… I imagined the kind of life I wanted with you…” You looked back up at him to see him already looking at you with pure adoration in his eyes. “And it turned out exactly how I imagined it. Everything I dreamed of.”
George leaned down to softly press his lips onto yours and just like every other time, you felt as if you fell in love all over again.
“Yeah, I’d say we played it out alright.”
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