#bucket full of starlight

[hazard-and-friends]

art

artist

#note the crazy eyes. #bucket full of starlight #dogblr

[lieblingspulli]

Starlight: SKZ

W.C: 2.6k

Hyunjin x Reader

Summary: You meet a rather eccentric group of guys at the movie theater while trying to find your seat!

A/n: This one is such a guilty pleasure of mine lol, I LOVE Howl's moving castle. I just was watching it one day and thought of Hyunjin (for obvious reasons). Enjoy!

Masterlist!

SKZ Masterlist

You stepped in through the movie theater doors and breathed in the fresh smell of buttery popcorn. You smelled the faint scent of bubblegum and pizza slices. By all means, the different smells should have come together to create an odd scent, but strangely, it was comforting. 

You had come with a high level of excitement, a feeling you hadn’t had since you were a kid. The studio ghibli fest was being held in theaters for today and tomorrow. When you heard, you jumped for your laptop, determined to get tickets to at least your favorite movie, Howl’s Moving Castle. Unfortunately, none of your friends could make it to both dates, so you opted for one singular ticket- which made the process of getting tickets much easier. 

Howl’s Moving Castle has always been your favorite movie, ever since you could remember. You recalled watching the dvd so much that it would skip scenes, you had at least 6 copies of the movie by the time you were fifteen. It was your comfort movie. You watched it whenever you got sad, whenever you were bored, or whenever you felt like having a relaxing night in. Even through college, you kept the movie close, watching it with your roommate. Mayazaki really outdid himself with this one. 

Everytime you would see Howl on the screen for the first time, you would internally squeal, his voice warming up your soul. The romantic gestures and whimsical spells only made you yearn for more than what real life could offer. Whenever you watched it, you wished you had a handsome wizard to conjure up a flower field for you. Sophie’s determination made you giggle, and you would imagine you were her whenever your mom told you to clean your room. 

As you stood in line for a bucket of popcorn, you got giddy. You always did, no matter how many times you watched this movie. The theater was packed with people your age, probably feeling the same feelings you were. These feelings were amplified by the cool decorations the staff had put up. There were cardboard cutouts of the movie characters, even a full scale Turnip Head. There were some backdrops from the movie, cool shiny streamers, and special edition popcorn buckets in the shape of the moving castle. 

Suddenly being there alone was starting to be to your benefit: you could act as excited as you wanted without judgment. As you paid for a popcorn bucket and cherry icee, you watched as several other couples and people with children were smiling and having fun looking at the decorations. Several couples were taking photos with the backdrops. You even saw a child dressed up as Markl. You sighed in happiness before the cashier handed you your bucket, snapping you out of your observations. 

After getting your snacks, you had a bit of time to kill. You could have opted to stay in the lobby, but the open theater doors were just begging you to step inside. So you did. 

The theater was brimming with people. You had to stop and assess the situation. Most of the theater was taken, but luckily you had pre-selected your seat. Unfortunately, it was quite close to the screen. You hoped you wouldn’t be seated next to rude strangers. Your seat was the last single seat you could find. You listened to people chatting and whispering as you walked down the aisle to find your spot. 

14c. That was your seat. But 14c was preoccupied. Not your seat anymore. 

You saw that a long line of guys were sitting in the row you had chosen your seat in. There were 6 of them. All of them were sitting smack dab in the middle of the aisle, completely encasing your (now taken) seat. You made a face to yourself, sighed in defeat and contemplated the situation. There were people behind you, walking in your direction, so you could either politely ask them to move or try finding a spot, risking the same situation these boys had put you in. 

Thinking of the seating chart and how full it was when you saw it online, you opted for the former. 

You got real close to the nearest guy you could see, and attempted to get his attention. He had really wide eyes and was talking to his buddy next to him really enthusiastically about the movie. 

“Dude, I’m so excited to see this. It’s my first time going to a Ghibli Fest!” He whisper-screamed. 

“Yah, but did you have to drag all of us out here for a cartoon?” The second guy complained. “I could be like at the gym or something. I don’t know, anything else. Also, why didn’t Chan and Jeongin come? Why am I here?” He pouted. The first guy smirked. 

“Consider it bonding time. Team activities you know-” The first guy began saying, but was interrupted as his buddy nudged him and nodded his head in your direction. He flipped his body around to face you. 

“Hey, excuse me, sorry if I interrupted.” You stammered. He smiled and shook his head. 

“No worries. Just trying to get my friend to shut up here.” He laughed. The second guy looked offended and mumbled, “You can’t even shut up yourself,” under his breath. The first guy smiled widely and waved his hand behind him. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s always grumpy.” You smiled and shyly pushed your hair behind your ear. 

“I’m really sorry, but I think my seat is right in the middle of your group. I can move if you want, I just don’t want to cause other people to lose theirs too.” You tried to lean over to speak over the loudness of his friends talking. He nodded as you spoke and then his eyes widened even more as you mentioned your seat. His mouth made an O. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, let me move for you!” He scrambled to get his things up. You frantically waved your hands and tried to stop him. 

“Oh no it’s okay! If you guys can just move one down, that’s fine with me!” You observed him dropping his candy bag. The guy next to him noticed the commotion. 

“Yah, Han Jisung. Those are my sour patch kids! What-” The guy started to protest. 

The guy next to him looked over. 

“Bro, why did you drop Changbin’s candy? I was gonna steal from those!” ‘Changbin’ ( you assumed his name was) frowned and yelled, “hey!” ‘Jisung’ looked up at you before looking at his friends. You could visibly see the wheels in his head turn. 

He suddenly looked back at you and asked, “Are you alone? What seat did you pick?”

You stammered with your words, startled by the totally normal question. There was just something about these guys that gave off chaotic vibes. You barely got to answering your seat number before the movie ads began to fade away and the usual rule ad came on. You visibly panicked and Jisung did too. 

“Oh shit-” 

“Um-” 

“Hey! Hyunjin! Scoot your ass over a chair!” Jisung reached over Changbin and whisper-yelled to some blonde dude. Changbin was less than satisfied at Jisung, being as he was currently squished below him. The blonde guy looked over with bewilderment and a skinnier guy next to him started to shoo him away, sensing Jisung’s urgency. 

“What- I just sat down-” Hyunjin complained, but he grumbled and moved over anyway. Jisung looked satisfied and motioned to your now empty spot. 

“Ta-Da! The movie looks like it’s gonna start so you might want to hurry.” He laughed. You just stood there, dismayed at the prospect of having to sit in between 3 dudes on either side of you. But the credits began to play and you had to hurry, as Jisung had said. You sighed and mustered up some courage as you squeezed past 3 random dude’s knees, each one of them were careful not to stab you with them. 

Just as you plopped down on your seat, the blonde dude: Hyunjin, started to whisper to his friend across from you on the other side. 

“Yah, Felix, pass the Dr. Pepper.” You looked at Felix, who was in the process of taking a bite of his pretzel. He wordlessly nodded, and handed the soda to Hyunjin, right in front of your face. 

You looked at both of them. Felix smiled at you and shrugged his shoulders in apology. Hyunjin happily took a sip of his soda and made eye contact with you, his eyes widening a bit in embarrassment. 

“Woah, I thought you were Leeknow for a sec.” He said nervously. You could hear the title song start to play. Man, you just wanted to enjoy your movie. 

“No, I’m Y/n.” You begrudgingly said. Felix loudly chewed on his pretzel. You could smell it. 

Hyunjin took another sip before placing his Dr.Pepper down. 

“I’m Hyunjin by the way. Sorry for taking your seat.”  He apologetically said and reached his hand out. You stared at it. The train sound of the movie filled your ears. You reached out and lightly shook his hand before observing what Hyunjin really looked like (or as best as you could in the dark). Hyunjin’s blonde hair stood out in the dark. Although you could barely see, you could still make out his features in the movie. His face was soft, and his features were delicate. The soft movie light made his skin glow. You found yourself snapping out of it, realizing you were still shaking his hand. You nervously chucked and mumbled a “nice to meet you” before quickly turning back to the screen. Hyunjin chuckled and looked back at the screen too. 

Before you knew it, you were engrossed in the movie. As always, Howl’s introduction in the beginning made you sigh and smile, his voice never failed to make you swoon. As you watched, you found yourself unconsciously thinking about the man next to you (not Felix). Howl’s blonde hair was vaguely the same as Hyunjin’s and that stuck with you. As the movie passed, Hyunjin and his friends mostly kept to themselves. Except when the movie began to ramp up. 

As Sophie began to change and discover Howl’s true nature, you could hear Jisung mutter things about how it was “so unfair for Sophie, she has to be a hag while Howl gets to be pretty,” or you would hear Hyunjin pout about how sad a life Sophie had. You laughed at the occasional commentary and surprisingly rude remarks Felix had stored up for the Witch of the Waste. 

When Howl sent Sophie to the Castle, Hyunjin and his other friends, Seungmin and Leeknow, were all on the edge of their seats. It was only after Sophie’s and Howl’s escape did they cheer and sit back. Felix cursed out the escape of the Witch of the Waste. You giggled. You felt the same about her too. 

You easily ate your popcorn and Icee as you watched Howl slowly fall in love with Sophie. Their love story never failed to truly entrance you, and the soundtrack didn’t help with that. As the flower garden scene showed, Hyunjin accidentally touched your hand with his as he reached for his soda, which was on the same side as your Icee was. 

You blushed and muttered “sorry.” He didn’t say a word. The flower garden seemed so enchanting and the music just really set the scene for love. You smiled, happy at your decision to book this ticket. 

By the end of the movie, you lost count of how many times you heard one of the boys sniffle, laugh, cry, complain and curse out at characters of the movie. Felix even asked you if you were a Turnip Head stan after he tried to save them at the end. You nodded solemnly, jokingly wiping a tear and saying, “He’s their savior!” Felix just laughed. You smiled as the end neared, your favorite scene coming up. 

Just as Howl woke up and proclaimed, “Sophie! Your hair looks just like starlight!” You got a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Hyunjin nudged at your arm with his. You looked over, still smiling from the scene. 

“Your hair looks kinda like Sophie’s don’t you think?” He whispered at the quietest level. You blushed, and didn’t know what to say. The ending scene kept going as you quickly turned to avoid his gaze. This random stranger just compared your hair to Sophie’s. Was that a compliment? 

You looked back at Hyunjin, but he was already joking with Leeknow, who was arguing that Sophie was the true hero of this movie. Seugnmin was arguing for Hiel, the dog. Hyunjin was gushing over the love story. You started to think you were imagining what just happened. 

Sooner than you wanted it to, the lights to the theater slowly flickered on and people began chatting, creating a buzz of conversation. Some people exited the theater, others stayed to talk. You contemplated just leaving, but Felix began to talk to you about the Witch and what you thought of her. He seemed quite passionate about it, so you stayed. 

Just as Changbin suggested they leave for dinner and everyone began to collect their things, Hyunjin called to you. 

“Hey, Y/n?” He smiled and waited for you to finish putting your bag over your shoulder. 

“Yes Hyunjin?” You teased with his name. He blushed and Leeknow pushed past him, complaining about rude, tall, blonde men always being in the way. You laughed and gestured that you would follow him out. Hyunjin nodded and waited for you at the end of the aisle as you picked your way past empty popcorn buckets and trays. 

All the guys were chatting as they led the way out the door, but Hyunjin stayed behind. Right after you waved bye to Felix, you paid all your attention to the man in front of you. 

“Did you need something?” You politely asked, curious as to why he waited. 

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come out to dinner with us?” He blurted out. Now it was your turn to blush. The theater was now completely empty and the lights were on. The feeling of having watched a good movie was still flowing through your brain. 

“You don’t have to be with all the guys, if you feel uncomfortable we can just go together? Or maybe Felix can come too?” He stammered. You laughed. 

“Sure, why not. You guys seem cool anyway.” You barely got to finish your sentence as Jisung came running back in, yelling, “Hyunjinnie!” You giggled and Hyunjin seemed really embarrassed, his ears turning red. 

“I’ll be right there!” He yelled behind him. Jisung stopped dead in his tracks as he saw you standing in front of him. 

“Oop, sorry if I interrupted your moment-”

“Go away Jisung!” Hyunjin snapped and hid his face behind his hands. Jisung smiled and winked at you. He mouthed and motioned with his phone, “get his number!” You smiled and nodded. Jisung sprinted off and you could hear his voice as he got further. 

“Guys! I think Hyunjin has a girlfriend now!” 

You could hear laughs and protests, presumably by Leeknow or Changbin. You looked back at Hyunjin who was groaning into his hands. 

You pulled out your phone and peeled his hand from his face, placing your open phone on his palm. 

“I’ll only go if you kindly give me your number.” You stated. He glanced at the phone in surprise before looking back at you smugly. 

“I hope you’re hungry then.” He laughed and inputted his number and name. As he gave it back to you and you walked out of the theater with him to meet with the boys, you glanced at your new contact. 

It read: “Knock off Howl ❤️”

 You laughed and he continued talking about how wonderful it would be to be able to conjure your own moving house. 

-

#Hyunjin! #SKZ #Straykids #skz #Hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #Chan #leeknow #changbin #Jisung #Felix #Seungmin #Jeongin #you make stray kids stay #lovestay #Goodnight!

[cuoredimuschio]

part two of the guitar lessons au (feat. a side of buckingham)

A shitload of doubts had reared their reasonable, humongous heads the second Steve walked out of that clearing with an agreement to meet on Friday night and Munson’s address tucked in his wallet. 

What did you just do? He’d asked himself with every step, all the way back to his car. 

His guts sloshed around in his shoes, nearly tripping him up, while his heart lumped in his throat. It was the same bucket-of-ice-water-over-your-head, door-locking-behind-you kind of feeling he imagines you’d get seconds after you signed a contract with the devil. A sort of gaping, full-body, no-going-back regret, radiating out from the stomach, spackled over with hasty, flimsy confidence as you try to convince yourself you made the right choice, that it’ll be worth it in the end, that there won’t be any hell to pay, even as the shackle tightens around your neck and the flames lick at your heels.

He was being overdramatic—piling heaps of dirt onto not even a molehill, an anthill at worst—and he knew it, and Robin repeatedly seconded that opinion. But it was like a rock had been kicked over inside him and some scaly, sinuous thing with too many legs had skittered out into the light and made a point to clamber over every one of his organs, vital and otherwise, leaving a slimy trail of unease in its ceaseless wake. 

Thirty bucks a week. Thirty. Three-zero. And who knew how many weeks it would take.

That insect had been swiftly, beautifully obliterated, though, when Jenna stopped in on Wednesday to return the Last Unicorn tape she’d rented for her little sister. One smile, that’s all it took. One dimpled, heart-stopping smile, handed to him like a fat slice of starlight pie on a plate of roses, one laugh that lit up her June-sky eyes, one whiff of her billowy, flowery perfume as she swept out the door he’d held open for her, and he’d understood why all those Greek dudes in that poem started a whole war over Heather or Heidi or whatever her name was. He could and would face a thousand armies on his own if only Jenna was waiting for him on the other side of the battlefield, if only she called his name and asked him to find his way to her. Munson, he’d realized, was nothing but a small, small roadblock on the way to eternal bliss. Just a speedbump, really.

That courage lasted for all of two days.

On Friday, the doubts come roaring back. Louder than ever. Near deafening, ripping that insect from the grave, as he jams the Beemer into park outside Munson’s trailer. At least, he’s pretty sure it’s Munson’s trailer; the guy’s directions weren’t exactly useful. Or entirely legible. Light green, white stripe is the only real clue the paper gives him, but looking at it now, bathed in the glow of his headlights, Steve would argue it’s more on the blue side of the spectrum. Doesn’t help either that the trailer doesn’t have an actual address, only a lot number which, in Munson’s handwriting, could be fifty-three or eighty-three or eighty-nine or S-eight or five other numbers. But at the end of the day, there’s no mistaking that piece of shit van. 

He’s in the right place, whether he wants to be or not.

He turns the keys. Pulls them out of the ignition. Clicks off his seat belt.

But his hand doesn’t reach for the door handle.

Maybe ‘doubts’ is the wrong word. 

Maybe what he really means is ‘dread’.

Not because he’s scared of Munson. Let’s get that straight right off the bat: he is not—in any way, shape, or form—afraid of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. The guy’s all bark, too much bark, and no bite. Like one of the yappy little rat dogs his mother’s friends drag around everywhere, the ones that snap at anything that moves but shiver and piss themselves the second you take a step toward them. 

So, no. It’s not fear-based dread. It’s just regular dread. The dread of being stuck in a glue trap that, admittedly, you laid out for yourself. Hours, days, weeks on end, subjected to the wonders of Munson’s winsome personality, stuck alone in a room with a guy who hates his guts, and he’ll be paying—dearly—for the privilege of his own torture: he’s not sure he’s ever made a worse decision in his life.

But Steve’s never backed down from anything, even when he probably should have, even when walking away might have saved his bright shiny future. He’s got almost twenty years of pigheaded determination in the face of abject stupidity behind him, and he’s not about to let a loudmouthed loser get the best of him now. He can make this work. He can steer them back on track, keep things civil, maybe even win Munson over in time. Who knows, stranger things have happened.

The porch steps squelch and squawk under his feet as he marches up to the front door, head held high, fingers skimming along the rickety, ice-cold iron rail. Already, he can hear the thunderous pound of the abrasive, screechy garbage Munson mistakes for music, thumping against the thin door like it’s trying to break out. He stops on the top step, squinting at his dim reflection in the glass, and shuffles a hand through his hair before he pastes on a breezy smile and knocks, nice and loud.

There’s no answer.

He knocks again, harder. The glass clatters under his knuckles.

The music gets louder. Still no answer.

He’s a fucking child, Steve thinks, clinging to that smile—though it’s less breezy and a bit more at-gunpoint now—and his newfound sense of bonhomie by the skin of his near-chattering teeth as he raps against the door once more. This time, he doesn’t stop until it’s yanked open.

Munson looks pissed already. But that might just be the natural state of his face. 

Steve would probably walk around with a permanent scowl too if he was living with a whole, pretentious tree shoved high-and-mighty up his ass.

Either Munson’s really committed to constantly maintaining his aren’t-I-so-cool-and-rebellious-and-definitely-not-just-a-total-tool aesthetic, comfort be damned, or he just got in from his little nerd game session. Because he’s still decked in denim and leather, sporting that hideous t-shirt that he forces all his lackeys to wear like they’re some kind of tacky cult, and still speckled with chunky silver jewelry, gaudy rings glinting on his fingers and wallet chain jangling at his hip. He drops his shoulder against the door jamb, one ankle kicked over the other, and runs a less-than-kind, soullessly dark eye over Steve. 

“You got my money?”

“Yeah, relax. I’m good for it.” Steve starts to step forward, angling to slip around his ungracious host and out of the cold, but a blunt hand rams into his chest, pushing him back.

“Not so fast, Harrington,��� Munson says, and Steve’s pretty sure he’s meant to find that withering tone and stony glare intimidating; he doesn’t, not in the slightest. “Money first.”

For the sake of trying to start things off on the right foot—or at least the not-actively-hostile foot—Steve doesn’t laugh in his face, and instead asks, light and polite, “That’s a bit backwards, don’t you think?”

Munson’s hand hangs in the space between them, palm up and adamant, waiting like it isn’t below freezing and he’s got all night. “I’m sorry, they let you eat your Whopper before you pay for it, your majesty?” 

What annoys Steve most is that it’s a fair point. A petty, prickish point but a fair one. Doesn’t stop him from grumbling under his breath and calling Munson a few choice names in his head as he digs out his wallet and pries it open. It’s almost physically painful, to pull those three bills out and hand them over into Munson’s greedy paws, and it leaves him high and dry but for a tattered one and a sloppy-edged coupon for forty cents off Tide. Great.

Munson, being the obnoxious prick that he’s obnoxiously proud to be, makes a show of counting the bills, licking his finger as he flicks through them, one by one. When he’s satisfied that Steve hasn’t stiffed him, he folds them up and shoves them in his back pocket, slithering into a smug smile that Steve wants to smack off his face with the business end of a shovel that was most recently used to muck a full-capacity stable. 

“Your generous donation is much appreciated, sire.” He bows and steps aside, an arm swept out with a looping flourish. “Welcome to Casa di Munson.”

(read the rest on ao3)

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #my writing #guitar lessons au

[cilil]

I have thought long and hard about the gift-giving...

I have 2....

A gift TO Navë FROM Námo. It can be sweet, it can be suggestive, it can be hilariously ambiguous lol

A gift TO Ilmarë FROM Nári. That one should definitely be outrageous and flirty.

And I send you hugs and buckets full of love from myself.

I am so looking forward to what you'll come up with for all of these...Tag me, please <3

♡ To: Navë ♡ From: Námo

𝓐 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓰𝓲𝓯𝓽

The holidays were approaching. 

And the only reasons why Navëquen was aware of it were his impeccably maintained calendar and the fact that he had been practically evicted from his office with orders to take some time off. He would have been fine with yet another normal day, but alas, Námo had insisted. 

With a small frown and a couple of files hidden underneath his robes, Navëquen returned to his chambers. If he worked through these before any holiday celebrations took place that he might have to attend, there was a chance that any delays caused by Námo's Maiar sitting idle for a while wouldn't be too noticeable; though the prospect of drawing or journaling was getting more and more tempting as well. 

Navëquen's musings were interrupted when he spotted a gift on his bed, wrapped in emerald green paper and adorned with a silver bow. For a moment he wondered how someone had managed to forget their things in his usually empty room, until it occurred to him that it might be a holiday gift for him – a suspicion that was soon confirmed by further investigations. 

His name had been written on the gift with silver ink, and he would recognize that handwriting anywhere. 

Sitting down on his bed, Navëquen dropped everything he had been holding and took the gift in his hands instead. It was from Námo. His lord, his idol, his esteemed mentor and secretly beloved Vala had thought of him. 

It was with utmost care that he unwrapped the gift, gently pulling the bow apart and folding the paper. They would be carefully stashed away later. 

Námo had given him a book, an empty sketchbook to be exact. Navëquen examined the pages, letting his fingers glide across the paper's texture. He could already imagine how his pencil would sound on it, like a quiet melody that was part of his music. 

What a lovely gift. And with that, the rest of his evening was decided as well. 

He was going to draw Námo.

♡ To: Ilmarë ♡ From: Nári Warnings: References to sex, Nári can't behave herself

𝓐𝓷 𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓰𝓲𝓯𝓽

"Hey there, little starlight." 

The greeting was accompanied by a sharp whistle, and Ilmarë turned around to find herself face to face with a certain Balrog grinning down at her. 

"What do you want?" she asked cautiously. 

"I got a gift for you. Why, is that a crime nowadays?" Nári winked at her, and Ilmarë got the distinct feeling that she wouldn't care even if it was. 

"That is very nice of you," she began, "but I feel like I should let you know that I have nothing to give you in return because... well, I wasn't exactly expecting to be exchanging gifts with a servant of darkness." 

"That's alright. You can make it up to me in other ways." 

Ilmarë chose to ignore the lascivious smirk and tail wag that followed her statement and accepted a small oval object wrapped half-burned paper. It turned out to be some kind of stone, though when she touched it, it felt as if something was vibrating inside. 

"What is this?" she asked. 

Nári leaned down to get to her eye level. "Do you really have no idea what to do with vibrating things, little starlight?" 

"I... am not sure what you are alluding to?" 

The Balrog shook her horned head, causing sparks to be sent flying in all directions. "Oh dear. No one told me you're as oblivious as Gotty's silly little bird boy. Really, I need to let Melkor know his family sucks." 

"Please don't insult the king and queen in my presence," Ilmarë said icily. 

"Fine, fine. I mean, we could do something more fun instead, for example I could show you what to do with your gift." 

Experienced or not, the way Nári smirked at her was enough for Ilmarë to tell where this was going.

"If this is a... sex thing, I am grateful that you are so concerned about my... wellbeing, but I don't think we are at a point where I want to engage in anything with you," she said firmly. 

"Very well, little starlight. I know Maiar like you are often shy, and for the time being you can just think of me instead." Nári turned to leave, looking over her shoulder one more time as she summoned her fire in preparation for the way home. "And yes, it is a "sex thing"." 

taglist: @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot @wandererindreams

#navequen #navëquen #nari #nári #ilmare #ilmarë #oc #maia oc #ainu oc #silm oc #maiar #ainur #navequen x namo #nari x ilmare #drabble #silm fanfic #silmarillion fanfiction #silmarillion #cílil writes #my writing

[slightlystupidhun]

If The Shoe Fits… Bear It!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6,

Part 7

Summary: Prince Vincent Solaire, of Wonder Land, spends a wonderful night with a stranger, but what happens when the shoe left behind fits someone else.

It was officially the day of the ball and lovely was sweating buckets. It would be their first official event with their Prince. In fact it would be their first and last event before they would be married to him.

They walked over into the dining room where Grand Duke Sam, Sam’s Partner, Tanker, Vincent, and William were patiently awaiting their arrival. Upon seeing them, Vincent stood up and pulled out their chair for them.

Their meal was rather delightful that morning. They had biscuits, tea, and some fresh fruits from the garden.

“Is your highness ready for the ball tonight?” Tanker spoke up to lovely.

“Yes, I suppose I am. Although if I may be upfront, I am a little nervous.” Lovely replied, fiddling with their fingers.

“Well that is normal, but worry not your highness, you’ll have your Prince on your arm.” Duke Sam teased. Vincent shot him a half hearted glare.

“I suppose.” They laughed. “Thank your Grand Duke.”

With that breakfast was concluded. And Lovely and Tank headed over to grab their outfits.

Tanks was dressed up in a dark blue coat that reached the floor, it had gold embellishments on it. They matched it with a pair of black pants and black sleek boots, that shone under the lights.

Lovely was gawking over the outfit of their new friend for so long they hardly noticed when starlight came out with theirs.

It was so gorgeous and flattered their figure so nicely. The heels had them drooling and they couldn’t wait to see Vincent’s outfit matched with theirs.

Finally all styled up they were ready to attend the ball.

—————

They stepped down the long hallway making their way to the room where they would meet up with Vincent and everyone. They couldn’t help but pick up their pace, so excited to see everyone.

They opened the large doors and four pairs of eyes were on them. William offered them a proud smile, Sam nodded at them, and Tank offered them a smirk as they pushed the Prince forward. Vincent’s Jaw was dragging along the floor. He had stars in his eyes as if he couldn’t have seen anything more beautiful in his life. He reached out for their hand and that is when they were finally able to take him in.

He looked absolutely dashing and his outfit perfectly complimented theirs. They both looked like the perfect pair. Lovely thought of how amazing he would have looked many times but none compared to the real thing.

It was a second or two before they were able to come back to themself and take his hand, as they all prepared to enter the ball.

They entered the large room, it was all white with gold accents and carefully picked flowers. It looked gorgeous. The ball was brought to life even more as guests started coming in.

The room felt warm, full of laughter, dancing and conversation. It was a joyous day. The mood in the room proudly represented that.

The room silenced as William arose. The musician halting their symphony. Laughter breaking off, and conversations coming abruptly to a halt.

“Everyone! I am so please that you all could make it!” William began. “Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to come celebrate the engagement of my son and his lovely partner. Let us all spend this evening feeling just as joyous as they plan to make each other!” And with that he raised his glass of wine in the air.

“Cheers!” Echoing around the room, as everyone took a drink from their glass.

The dance floor was once again filled as the orchestra started back up. Vincent looked down at them and back over at the dance floor.

“Well, would you do the honor of dancing with me.” He held out his hand preparing for the next dance. This would be the biggest social dance of the night where everyone would switch partners as they made their way around the circle.

“I would love to.” They replied, taking his hand and letting him lead them along side some of the dukes.

The dance started a slow waltz. They moved in a circle and Vincent occasionally spun them around. Dancing with him felt warm and intimate. They looked up at him and couldn’t hide the smile on their face.

“Don’t have too much fun without me.” Vincent said as he passed them off to the next person they would be dancing with. It was Sam.

“Well hello there your highness.” He spoke in his usual nonchalant tone they have become accustomed to. “How is the ball going this far?”

“It’s going pretty well. I met a few dukes from the Dahlia estate. And for you, Grand Duke?” They replied quirking their head.

“It has definitely been interesting. It is always a fun evening getting to keep the company of Darlins family.” He spoke. “Well goodbye for now.” He said as he twirled them to their next partner. He was a tall lanky man with wild hair and a big smile on his face.

“Well hello there your highness.” He spoke his tone bright and comforting. “I’m grand Duke Asher from the same kingdom and your friend Tanker.” He laughed.

“Oh yes! A pleasure to meet you grand Duke.” They smiled at him as he spun them around.

“How are you adjusting to the royal life your highness?” He asked innocently.

“Well It is definitely different than my previous life, but I have no complaints.” They laughed at the end.

“Well that is amazing to hear! You are a real soldier! Have fun!” He said as he spun them off to a larger man. Definitely more muscle mass and height to him. He had a demanding presence. He definitely reminded them of Tank. This must be their brother!

“Good evening your highness.” The man spoke. “I am Prince David Shaw.” He was direct and to the point.

“Ah yes, good evening your highness, I am well acquainted with your sibling!” They spoke quickly and cheerfully. “Congratulations on your wedding.”

“Why thank you. And congratulations on your engagement m. I wish you all the best.” He said as he passed them off to the next person.

—————

Vincent had danced with quite a few noble individuals. They all said the same thing. “Hello Prince. Congratulations Prince.”

That was until he was partnered up with someone oddly familiar. It felt like he knew them. He had seen them before. Felt the feeling of their hand in his before. That’s when he looked up and met their eyes.

The mask that covered only the middle of their face revealing the same orbs he had seen at the most recent ball. It was them the stranger that he had danced with that night.

His eyes widened with shock and his whole body tensed. He could tell that they knew, he knew who they were.

“Well good to meet you again Prince.” They said as they shot him a smirk.

*I am so sorry the chapter is so late! So much has been going on. I hope you all enjoy it and I will do my best to put the next chapter out asap!*

#redacted asmr #redacted audios #redacted darlin #redacted david #milo redacted #redacted sam #redacted asmr asher #sam x darlin #redacted shaw pack #redacted asher #redacted william #redacted vincent #redacted stranger #redacted lovely #vincent x lovely #redacted solaire clan #redacted davey/angel #redacted fanfic #redacted Cinderella AU #redactedasmr #redacted vincent Solaire

[maple-writes]

Viper and Stark notice there's something... Different about the new kid. @concealeddarkness13 @pen-of-roses

---

The boy got up quickly, seemingly relieved to have an excuse to step away a moment. As soon as he was out of earshot Stark leaned in closer to my ear with a wary glance at Honey’s back.

“Something’s not quite adding up, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure he’s hiding something,” I rolled my head to face him. “But I’m not concerned. Not yet anyway.”

The splash of the bucket in the water made me turn, lazily watching Honey crouch by the riverside. In the dim of night he was hardly more than a figure or a shadow against the faint shine of moon and starlight reflected from the water. The firelight didn’t reach quite so far as the river now that it had died down a little after dinner.

Stark sighed. “Well, I hope that…”

He trailed off and I sat up straighter.

As he turned back from the river, Honey’s eyes shone bright green. Pupils reflecting light like a wild cat’s against the dark he hauled the full bucket up from the riverbank. Suddenly the night felt colder, the stones below having lost the sun’s daytime warmth as a shiver ran down my back and the hairs on my arms stood on end. Only creatures I knew whose eyes shone like that were animals and demons, or so I’d been told.

By my ear Stark breathed, “you see that?”

I nodded, slowly letting my gaze shift towards Stark as the boy drew close enough the fire enveloped him fully and the green shine faded from his eyes.

“Not a word,” I said, “he’s done nothing wrong yet after all.”

#writing stuff #bristlecone #Honey/Rantha #Viper (character) #Viper knows that clearly something is up but isn't about to do anything since he seems nice enough

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — October 30-November 5

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

10-30 → MarrsGreen posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun. The caption includes, “the starlight is gorgeous.”

→ VogueFilm posted their interview with Gong Jun discussing “Hello, Hello”. During one part, he said, “I have never forgotten my original intentions.” [full translation] 

→ 361° put up a shoe listing on their Taobao using a model who looks strikingly similar to Zhang Zhehan. There’s even one photo where he’s wearing a bucket hat. Photos: [1] [2] Fan Observation: Many think it’s likely shade towards the Instagram, in a sort of “look, we can find a lookalike too” way. Instagram believers were pissed about it.

→ Addition 11-08: The Roving Inspection Team Weibo account was unmuted after six months. It reposted something by Peng Lihu a few days later, unfortunately confirming suspicions that he is the one behind it.

→ Colgate posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

10-31 → Gong Jun posted a promotional video for LockNLock, later reposted by LockNLock.

→ MarrsGreen posted a promotional video spoken by Gong Jun.

→ Tangle Teezer posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun posted the music video for his new song More Youthful With Ideal. Caption: “The ideal guides our direction, soar bravely together, and let the youth ignite!” His studio reposted it with the added caption, “Fearless to pursue dreams and work hard to move forward without fear of challenges and never forget the original intention. Listen to boss @ Gong Jun Simon use his singing to convey strength, live up to the youth and live up to the times!”

→ Kangshifu posted three photo ads featuring Gong Jun.

→ Lexus unfollowed both the super3 Instagram and the brand’s Instagram.

→ Gong Jun reposted a trailer from Qiao Xin, his co-star from Dream Garden, for her new drama Winter Night. His added caption: “I heard that Zheng Daqian is going to start ‘making big money’ tonight?”

→ Seven government departments put out a request for opinions about increasing regulation on stars and their sponsors, including preventing immoral artists from being spokespersons. CAPA responded in favour. A reminder that Zhang Zhehan has only been called an immoral artist by CAPA, not any government agencies.

→ Fox Spirit Matchmaker officially wrapped filming, though a few modern scenes still had yet to be filmed.

→ Colgate posted a video of behind the scenes footage from a commercial featuring Gong Jun. They later posted three photo ads in quick succession. [1] [2] [3]

→ LockNLock posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Fresh posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Hsu Fu Chi posted a photo ad featuring Gon Jun.

→ The Instagram posted a photo of a man in a Batman mask.

11-01 → Gong Jun’s studio posted his schedule for the month: brand livestreams on 11-01 and 11-02, birthday on 11-29. Caption: “In late autumn, in the traces of winter, boss @ Gong Jun Simon's November itinerary has arrived. Special reminder: add clothes in season, pay attention to keep warm!” [quoted translation] BGM is What Other Heart by Mac DeMarco.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted the photos used in the schedule video. Caption: “It’s here it’s here” Fan Observations:  -  These were taken on the day of the Hogan livestream.  -  He’s doing the Tenet hand gesture in them.  -  This is the third post in a month by him or his studio to use the caption “来了来了”.

→ Colgate posted a photo ad promoting the livestream held later that day.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted four photos of him taking selfies. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Hello dear passengers, the #Gong Jun's very wonderful November# time train has officially departed and arrived at the first station ahead. 「Train conductor @ Gong Jun Simon raised his mobile phone with one hand and put the other in his pocket coolly, quickly getting a super handsome selfie」, all passengers, please take a seat and hold on, the next stop is about to arrive at _______.” Fan Observation: These photos are possibly from 2021. Case in point:  -  The shirt he’s wearing has the text “Come and try our tunnel of love, tickets for two” on the back. He previously wore it on 2021-07-28; on the same day, Zhang Zhehan’s ads for Lanvin Qixi products were teased.  -  The red phone case looks to be the one he used last year. All photos from this year where his phone is visible either have a clear case or none at all.

→ 361° posted a teaser video for an upcoming samoyed themed collection in partnership with Gong Jun.

→ L’Oreal posted a photo ad for their livestream with Gong Jun later that day.

→ Gong Jun posted the same photo ad for the L’Oreal livestream. (14:20, 520 (”love you”) kadian) Caption: “I heard that I can't hide my identity as a soul painter. Let's take an art class with you on Double Eleven! Search L'Oreal's official flagship store, see my wonderful brushwork, and transform into a lot of surprises and gifts!” Fan Observation: A reach with kadians: the two earliest posts by his studio were at 10:00 and 10:30 → 1+1+3=5 → 51129 520 for these four posts altogether.

→ Gong Jun appeared in a livestream for L’Oreal. [full recording (no subs)] [summary with clips]  -  He said there’s a surprise for his birthday month.   -  There was the suggestion of doing a giveaway for a drawing Gong Jun did, but the producer disallowed it because it would mean having to read the winner’s username aloud. Gong Jun briefly tried to insist they should. (Context: There was an incident on 2021-06-10 (also a L’Oreal livestream lol) where someone with the username “Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan’s fan” won a giveaway; Gong Jun insisted that the host read it properly after she skipped over Zhang Zhehan’s name. [clip] Later during the same livestream, the producer had them stop reading winner’s names after multiple ones with CPF terms were read, and Gong Jun was visibly annoyed for a few minutes.)  -  At the end, he thanked “fans and friends”. Fan Observation: The glasses that he made a point of putting on at the start look quite similar to ones Zhang Zhehan wore on 2021-07-29.

→ Hsu Fu Chi posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun promoting their livestream the following day.

→ Gong Jun appeared in a livestream for Colgate. At the end, he thanked “my fans, [and] my junweixians”. [full recording (no subs)] [summary with clips] Fan Observations: A joke he told was previously mentioned by the host of one of Zhang Zhehan’s livestreams on 2021-06-20.

11-02 → CAPA bought the hotsearch #CAPA reminds entertainers to regulate their endorsement behaviour#, putting it at #12 under the entertainment hotsearch.

→ Colgate posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun posted a commercial teasing the new product line with 361°. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Life goes on and on, and love has traces to follow. Let go of the fatigue of life and liberate yourself in nature! If you love it, let's go wild together!”

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted three photos of him in recording booths. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Dear Passengers, the #Gong Jun's very wonderful November# time train has now arrived at the 2nd station 「On the way to the music, the train conductor @ Gong Jun Simon had many friendly exchanges with his microphone, brave and firm」, all passengers, please sit tight and hold on, the station ahead is _______.” Fan Observations: The center photo was taken at the same time as an almost identical one he posted on 2021-11-24. Caption for that was “Your little ears have ‘ear blessings’ again! [six husky emojis]”.

→ 361° posted the same commercial, also announcing a livestream on 11-10 (19:30). Caption: “Go to love with 361° global brand spokesperson @ Gong Jun Simon, meet a better version of yourself. Life goes on and on, love has traces to follow.” They also changed their Weibo header to a promotional photo for the new line.

→ MUJOSH posted the glasses that Gong Jun wore for the L’Oreal livestream. Caption: “Heard that you were all looking for these glasses after watching the live broadcast?”

→ Possible hexagon ring sighting in his breast pocket in paparazzi photos of him going to the venue.

→ 361° posted two photo ads featuring Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun appeared in a livestream for Hsu Fu Chi. The vast majority of people watching were junweixian, very few CPFs. [full recording (no subs)] [summary with clips] (Context: Hsu Fu Chi endorsed Zhang Zhehan prior to 813, but were the most ruthless of his brands in the termination of their endorsement during 813 and in the months following. Gong Jun was already contracted to endorse them next, but has only done the bare minimum as their spokesperson, on two occassions blatantly leaving them out when mentioning his endorsements. If you look at photo ads, you may have noticed they’ve been using the same photos of him all year.)  -  He drew a Tangle Teezer during a drawing segment, and he also at one point mentioned BEAST.  -  He ate some of the chewy candy while the host was talking and when the host asked him if he needed a drink, he stepped off camera for a moment, grabbed his LockNLock thermos, and drank from it for a solid five seconds on camera. [clip] Usually if a spokesperson needs a drink during a livestream, they’re given an unmarked paper cup.  -  Otherwise, he was very professional and positive.  -  He sang a few lines from Bitter Gourd by Eason Chan, saying he’s been listening to it a lot recently. When the song is shared on QQ Music, a (different) AMV of Kimi no Na wa plays. Just in case we missed it last week, I guess.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted a douyin of behind the scenes footage from a photoshoot that day. BGM is 隆里电丝 by 盛宇DamnShine. [lyrics] Fan Observation: The song includes a spoken part at the beginning with the lines, “Some people will become your friends / or your soulmate (知己). / Some people will fight with you to the end / as long as you’re happy (开心就好).”

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted nine photos of him from the photoshoot. Caption: “Blue and white interlaced black and white, walking through the moving night. Capture today's boss @ Gong Jun Simon's ‘R&B style’~”

11-03 → Yu Zheng, the producer Zhang Zhehan worked under until 2018, responded to an anti asking about the drama Zhao Ge never being released. Yu Zheng blamed Zhang Zhehan for it, saying that it caused him to lose money and he can’t edit Zhang Zhehan’s face out with AI due to the cost. The drama filmed in 2017 and never aired because the script that Yu Zheng wrote himseld didn’t pass censorship, it had nothing to do with Zhang Zhehan. By the way, Yu Zheng has had multiple plagarism and defamation lawsuits filed against him, and filming Zhao Ge was the reason Zhang Zhehan’s knee didn’t heal properly.

→ Gong Jun’s studio posted a photo of him petting a samoyed, taken on the same day (estimated to be early to mid June) as photos he posted posted on 10-04 from his trip while filming Guardian of the Alpine Plants. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Dear passengers, the #Gong Jun’s very wonderful November# time train has arrived at the 3rd station 「The train conductor @ Gong Jun Simon wants to take a photo with Xiugou, but he [the dog] just wanted to find a toy ball, and left without turning back」, all passengers, please sit tight and hold on, the station ahead is _______.”

→ Tangle Teezer posted two photo ads featuring Gong Jun. (1129 kadian)

→ Colgate posted a promotional video spoken by Gong Jun.

→ The host from the L’Oreal livestream posted six photos of himself and Gong Jun.

→ The final filming for Fox Spirit Matchmaker was completed.  Fan Observation: The child actor present for the filming is the same one who played Zhen Yan in Word of Honor.

→ 361° posted three photo ads [here] [here] and [here] featuring Gong Jun with a samoyed.

→ Kangshifu posted three photo ads featuring Gong Jun.

→ Colgate posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

11-04 → Gong Jun’s studio posted three photos of him from the filming of the Louis Vuitton watch commercial released on 01-15. (1129 kadian) Caption: “Dear passengers, the #Gong Jun's very wonderful November# time train has now arrived at the 4th station 「The monitor recorded the train conductor @ Gong Jun Simon under the sunset, while waiting for the signal light, the elongated figure is also lost in thought」, all passengers, please sit tight and hold on. The station ahead is _______.”

→ Kangshifu posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ 361° posted a short Q&A video with Gong Jun. [subbed video]

11-05 → Gong Jun’s studio posted a photo from the L’OFFICIEL shoot released on 05-23. (1129 kadian, 51129 with the date) Caption: “Dear passengers, the #Gong Jun's very wonderful November# The time train has now arrived at the 5th station 「a three-dimensional sketch portrait of the conductor @ Gong Jun Simon, relaxed and powerful」, all passengers please sit tight and hold on, the station ahead is _______.” Fan Observation: The published photo most similar to this one was on page 115 of the magazine.

→ The Instagram posted nine photos of “Zhang Zhehan” with white hair in front of a windmill. Addition 11-08: [Here] is a debunk on these.

→ Colgate posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ The Instagram posted six more photos of “Zhang Zhehan”.

Additional Reading: → N/A

<<< previous week || all posts || following week >>>

This post was last edited 2022-11-08.

#Looks like we're going to be very well fed this month #Zhang Zhehan #Gong Jun #Word of Honor #woh cast #lld timeline

[writing-a-to-b]

Wildflowers

Title: Wildflowers Word Count: 4,771 Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader A/N: This work is written in collaboration between @specialagentmonkey & @bangaveragewhitewine. 

We’re back! Welcome to the first of our ~interludes~ which take place in between the main Seasons fics. This side-quest / mini-series is called Between the Seasons and we have a few planned / in the pipeline, along with something pre-TLOU storyline that we are working on!

This fic takes place between Spring & Summer

Thanks for reading folks, any comments and feedback are greatly appreciated! Follow and turn on notifications if you would like to hear when we post!

We do not give permission for our work to be posted on other sites. 

Seasons Of Us & Between the Seasons masterlist

Contains: fluffy goodness, some angst & anxiety towards the end, mention of panic attacks.

-

Spring was beautiful and definitely in full bloom in Jackson. Wildflowers grew around the town, bright and vibrant and colourful, replacing the snow that had blanketed the town in the winter months. Your backyard was a particular hotspot of growth; wild lilies, dog daisies, larkspur. You noticed patches of wild lavender, which would be plentiful in the summer. It was a sight to behold. Someone used to love this garden before the world went to shit, nature had taken over, and now you had the chance to bring it back to life and make it your own. 

The flowers didn’t just stay in your back garden. After they had first grown you plucked several of them from the grass and brought them inside to make a nice arrangement for the middle of the dining table, brightening up the room and a chipped old vase that had come with the house. 

It didn’t stop there; once you had one in the kitchen, another appeared in the living room a few days later, then two or three larger arrangements appeared on the porch, there was even a small arrangement in the family bathroom. A box of old vases from the attic and a few glass bottles you had found around the house had certainly come in handy.

As the days got warmer and brighter, it was nice to bring some of the joy that came with late Spring into your house. You had hoped that neither Joel or Ellie would be allergic, or sensitive to the pollen. Your prayers were answered so the flowers stayed. And multiplied.

“Darlin’ this is getting a little out of hand.” Joel murmured as he turned in a circle in the kitchen, his eyes counting the amount of flower bouquets that were on the windowsill, the small dining table and on the counter, “You left some flowers for the rest of the town, right?”

“Ha-ha.” You fixed him with a look before narrowing your eyes, “I happen to think they’re pretty. I might have found my true calling.”

“That so?” He asked while raising a single eyebrow, coming to stand behind where you were sitting at the dining table, wrapping the stems of another bouquet.

“Flower arranging. The buckets out on the porch have attracted quite an audience, I’ve been asked to make some others for our neighbours and even Maria has asked for me to create a couple for her.” You tilted your head back to look up at Joel when you felt his hands on your shoulders, “So you’ll be pleased to know that all of these aren't staying here.”

“Good to know we’ll be able to see the kitchen again.” He teased, smirking when you scowled at him again. Joel moved away to put some water onto boil in a pan on the stove top, getting two mugs out for some peppermint tea. “While I’m happy that you’ve found another hobby, are you getting anythin’ for your time?” 

“Well, Mrs Kelly about four houses down found a stack of those Savage Starlight comics in her basement so I’m getting them for Ellie.” You explained as you snipped a piece of tied string with your scissors.

“That’s kind of you, sweetheart.” 

You nodded your head, “And Janet, you know the red-head at the Tipsy Bison, she’s usually behind the bar,” at Joel’s blank expression you wave him off, the scissors still between your fingers. “Anyway she asked for some to dot around the bar while the flowers are in bloom, so I happily obliged. There’s a free meal and a couple of drinks for us when we next go down, I’ll keep ‘em fresh over the next few weeks for her.”

“Now that’s what I call a trade.”

“Mmm, thought you might like that one.” 

Joel placed down both of the cups onto the table before taking the chair next to you, “I was thinkin’...”

“Steady, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Ha-ha.” It was Joel’s turn to dead pan. He didn’t hold it for long, his face and voice softening fondly, as it often did when he spoke to you. “I was thinkin’ that we could maybe go for a picnic.”

You turned your head quickly towards Joel, “Really?!”

“Really. There’s a nice spot just outside of the wall, a little creek upstream. Thinkin’ maybe we get a basket together, there’s that blanket we can throw in there.” 

“I like the sound of that. When d’you want to go, handsome?” You placed the scissors down on the table before picking up the cup of tea.

“Are you on the schedule for tomorrow?”

Taking a sip of your tea you shook your head, “No, I’m not back in rotation until next week.”

“Then after I finish the mornin’ patrol tomorrow we’ll pack up and go for a picnic. Just you and me.” He nodded decisively, and you smiled fondly at the thought of Joel Miller asking you on a date; it made the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly.

“Okay, it’s a date.” You tilted your head to the side before speaking again, “What about Ellie, I don’t want her feeling left out..”

“She’s got an afternoon of classes. Then she’s helping to muck out the stables. She’s really dedicated to those animals, I’m glad she’s found something for her, y’know?”

“Something other than seeing how many times she can squeeze ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ into a sentence?” You smirked, remembering how the girl had made herself laugh hysterically with her creative swearing, and Joel’s reaction to it. 

“She’s dedicated to that too. Gettin’ real good at it..” There was that proud smile tugging on his lips, the same one he had whenever Ellie would come into the living room or kitchen after another guitar lesson and show you what she had learned. “She knows anyway, about the picnic. Gave me some stick for it - said that I should take you on cute dates more often.”

...

“Next time you come out on patrol with me and Tommy, I’ll show you.” Joel started, hanging his rifle up in his locker that stood in the small  outbuilding that had become the towns’ armoury. “It’s right by that creek, on the south side, there’s a big tree. It’s perfect for a picnic.”

Ellie looked up at Joel from her spot where she sat on the counter beside the lockers. She watched him with a little bemused smile; she’d never seen this side of him. “Yeah? It sounds nice.”

“Oh, she’ll love it. I gotta take her there.” He nodded to himself at the idea, he did a double take at the look Ellie was giving him, “What?”

“You’re an old romantic, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean- and hey, less of the old.”

“You’re taking her on a date!” She exclaimed through a breathy laugh, she was seeing a totally different side to Joel and she found it fascinating. “Like you’re both practically married and have been together for like a million years but-“

“Ellie, what’re you gettin’ at?”

“It’s cute is what I’m getting at,” she pointed out with a teasing smirk, then hopped down from her perch. 

“Oh shut up.” Joel grumbled, dismissing the notion completely trying to ignore the heat that was creeping up his neck and cheeks. 

“It is! I never pegged you for a hopeless romantic, Joel.”

“Get outta here, weird kid,” he tutted but his face held a smirk as he shoved her towards the door, “Ain’t you got classes to go to?” Her cackling laughter had him shaking his head as he locked up the armoury, but he couldn’t keep the excited little smile off his face. 

...

“I always knew she was a smart kid.” You teased him, leaning across the small distance to peck his lips, your hand on his cheek, “You don’t need to wine and dine me to keep me, Joel. You’re stuck with me.”

-

The next morning your picnic was all packed up. You had made some ham and salad sandwiches and picked a small range of fruits from the fruit and vegetable patch at the bottom of the back garden. A cold canteen of water and a flask of whiskey was next to be thrown in, topped with a blanket covering the basket. 

You waited for Joel to return home from morning patrol. It wasn’t a long patrol, but he was on with Tommy and those two could talk for days. You had worked on the garden a little, cutting some flowers for drying and harvesting the seeds to sow later in the year, keeping your hands busy while you looked forward to your date.

He arrived home only a few minutes after you had agreed to meet, looking almost boyish as he slipped through the door, his skin glowing after a few hours in the morning sun. When he spotted you standing in the kitchen, fussing over the picnic basket for what he knew was the tenth time, his smile only widened further. 

“Don’t try sneakin’ up on me,” you called, looking over your shoulder as he stepped into the kitchen with his mind set on wrapping his arms around you to hear your squeal and laughter. 

He rolled his eyes and did it anyway, pressing kisses from your shoulder to your jaw before you dropped your head back to seal your lips together. “Missed you. Ready to go?” he asked against your cheek. 

“Ready.” You turned in his arms and stroked his cheek with your thumb before pecking him again. “Let’s get out in that sunshine before I drag you upstairs and we waste the day.” 

Joel opened his mouth to argue that spending the day in bed with you certainly wouldn’t be a waste, but you had already ducked out of his arms to add the last few pieces of your picnic to your backpacks before getting on the way. 

Joel had arranged permission to leave town for the day with one of the horses for the short journey; it wasn’t too far but the young mare was well trained and could carry your backpacks and Joel’s rifle as you rode to the spot he had picked out. There hadn’t been any infected spotted in a few weeks, and the morning patrol had come back without any sightings of raiders or travellers. 

You almost felt giddy as you looked out at the landscape beyond Jackson, the lush green hills and mountains, the blue sky. Your cheek rested against Joel’s back with your arms around his middle, he could feel your smile as he steered the horse toward the river after a short ride away from town..

With the horse secured to the tree, between you both you managed to get the blanket laid out, a backpack on opposite corners to secure it in the breeze. Taking off your sneakers you settled yourself down on the blanket and began unpacking all the food and goodies. 

“What’cha got in there then?” Joel asked, sitting down with a grunt, mumbling a complaint about his knees.

You took out the wrapped sandwiches, handing him one of them and setting the other down on the blanket next to your leg, “Ham salad sandwiches, there’s some strawberries in here, blackberries and some blueberries,” you showed him the contents in the basket, “Water, and of course a little whiskey.”

Joel flashed you a grin while unwrapping the food before taking a bite. It was an easy afternoon, sitting in the sun, eating nice food and sipping on the whiskey straight from the flask. 

You laid on the blanket, your legs crossed at the ankle and your head resting on Joel’s thigh. He was currently feeding you the last of the strawberries, sometimes taking a bite for himself first then giving you the rest. Once the bowl was empty he leaned back on his hands, enjoying the sun and the sounds of the different birds in the tree and in the air.

“What would a date with Joel Miller be like, back in the day?” You asked as you closed your eyes. You had been together a long time - ‘like a million years’ if you asked Ellie - but starting a relationship in the QZ had been less dates and more a companionship that grew between you and Joel.

Joel hummed and lifted a hand to scratch his beard, “Well, I never really had many dates, not after Sarah was born and before that I was with her mother a while after graduation.”

“So you never dated?”

“Not really, no. A little in high school - drive in movies and goin’ for burgers. Kid stuff. I tried goin’ out with one or two of the other single moms but it never worked out.” 

“You really hit the jackpot when you met me then, huh?”

Joel let out a laugh, letting his head fall back, “Y’could say, that sweetheart.” He moved his hand, stroking across your cheek before his fingers started gently combing through your hair.

“Alright what about this,” you started and opened your eyes, lifting a hand to shield your eyes from the sun so you could look at him properly, “If the world didn’t go to shit and you were taking me on a date, what would you have planned?” You ignore the fact that had the world not gone to shit, you most likely wouldn’t have met - you in Michigan, Joel in Texas…

“Well, that depends,”

“On…?”

Joel slipped his fingers between yours, resting on your stomach  as you shielded your eyes with the other hand , “Where we met ‘cause if we just bumped into each other at the grocery store I don’t know if I would have the balls to talk to someone as beautiful as you.” He admitted with a small huff. “And if we met in a bar I’m pretty sure Tommy would’ve swooped in first. The ladies always loved Tommy.”

You scoffed, “Oh I don’t know about that. I didn’t go for Tommy when we met on the way to Boston.” You’d heard the stories of younger Tommy Miller, he was a little wild back in the day, and while he had simmered down before you had met, he hadn’t been the Miller for you. “While you’ve both got that Southern charm, those  big brown eyes of yours really drew me in. Would have been the same regardless of when or where we met, baby.” 

“Alright, well if we met at a bar - didn’t really go out much either… Anyway, I’d have bought you a drink, asked how your day had been. We’d talk until I had to pull Tommy out of some fight, ask for your number first though.” Joel slid his arm under your head and laid himself down beside you. “I’d probably text you when I got home, or the next morning. Make sure you got home safe.” 

“And this is before you even ask me out?” you teased. 

“Shh, I’m paintin’ a picture, baby.” He linked your hands and pressed his lips to your forehead. “So I’d ask you out to dinner - not some burger joint either. Somewhere nice, with a wine list and I’d wear one of my good shirts just for you. We’d skip dessert and take a little walk as the sun set.” Joel’s voice was deep and soothing. Your eyes were closed as you imagined it, cuddling his hand to your chest. “There was a little ice cream shop down by the river, I’d take you there. We’d talk until you were bored of me.”

“Never bored of you,” you said, nuzzling his hand.

“Then I’d drive you home, like a gentleman. If I was feelin’ brave, lean in and kiss you goodnight.”

You smiled lazily when you felt his lips and nose press into your cheek, “You sure are full of yourself there Miller, a kiss on the first date? Oof.”

Joel broke out into a grin and smooched your cheek, causing you both to laugh, “Shut up. You wouldn’t be able to resist my Southern charm.”

You turned your head and looked into his eyes again. “I think that’s really romantic. I’d have loved that.” You found his lips and kissed him again. “I know that’s not how we met, and it’s not the kind of date we can go on now, but laying on a blanket with you in the sun might just be the best date I’ve ever been on, Joel.”

-

Decades after the outbreak, before which Joel never really did have much luck with relationships, he was still a romantic at heart. Loss after loss had made him feel hollow, uncaring, that was until he met you and then Ellie. He didn’t think he had the capacity to love anyone after his heart shattered all of those years ago; he certainly didn’t think he would have a partner or a family, a semblance of a normal life where he could whisk you away for dates in the sunshine, or pass on his love of music to Ellie. You had been a lift-raft for him in the QZ; he couldn’t help but fall for you, even though he fought it to protect his own heart. If he thought about it too much, his chest ached and eyes stung. He felt like he didn’t deserve any of it, any of the happiness or the affection you brought him.

A stronger gust of spring breeze brought Joel out of his thoughts, stopping them from getting too dangerous. He stood from where he was crouched and eyed the small bunch of wildflowers in his hand. He didn’t claim to know a thing about what flowers they were or what time of year they bloomed the best but he knew that you’ve come to love this new greenfinger hobby. These were some flowers that didn’t grow behind the walls of Jackson; you had pointed out prairie clover earlier while you ate, and there were more wild daisies in soft colours that he knew you would love.

Joel headed back to where you were still dozing, spread out on the blanket. He settled down beside you again, only wincing slightly when his knees cracked. Joel watched your chest rise and fall with even breaths, he could see the dusting of freckles on your nose and cheeks darken in the sun. 

“You’re staring again.” You mumbled, your voice quiet as your eyes fluttered open, squinting in the afternoon sun. They slowly connected with Joel’s dreamy whiskey stare.

He stayed quiet, propping himself up on his elbow he gave you a one-shoulder shrug and moved his hand to stroke his thumb over your cheek, moving some hair from your eyes, “I can’t help it, I like watchin’ you sleep..” 

Scrunching up your nose you let out a noise from the back of your throat as you began to stretch, “That’s just creepy, Joel,” you said, as if you didn’t do the same to him - seeing him asleep, fully relaxed was a sight to behold. You yawned before your eyes found him again.

“You look peaceful when you sleep. Like nothin’s wrong with the world.” Joel gazed over your features, a small smile on his lips.

“That’s because there is nothing wrong in my world. I’ve got you, and Miss Trouble at home. I’m a lucky woman.”

Joel blushed and turned his face up to the sky; he still couldn’t believe how lucky he had gotten with you. “Plus, you’re too beautiful to look away from.”

You brought your hand up to lightly take hold of the collar of his tshirt, tugging him over you, “I could say the same about you, looking all sunkissed and irresistible.” 

Joel hummed against your lips, kissing you slowly as his hand, now on your hip gave a gentle squeeze. He would spend hours kissing you if he could; your lips were always soft and sweet. He reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, placing a few quick pecks to the edge of your mouth and your cheek, “I got you somethin’ while you were nappin’.”

“You ran to the store while I was snoozing?” You joked and sat up along with Joel.

Joel reached behind him and brought the small bunch of flowers into view, “These are for you.”

“Oh Joel,” you sighed and held them in your hands, bringing them to your nose, “they’re beautiful. Definitely not your standard gas station bouquet.”

Joel smirked and watched you examine the flowers, “You were pointin’ ‘em out and- well I thought you could tie them up all nice and put them in our bedroom?” 

Your eyes met those gorgeous brown ones of Joel’s, “That’s really sweet, Joel, thank you.” You murmured and leaned over, kissing his lips gently. You smiled into the kiss before pulling back, examining the bouquet for a few seconds. You plucked one out, a long stemmed alpine daisy, and carefully twisted the stem, using the long end to tie the bunch carefully before tucking the lilac flower into the button-hole of Joel’s shirt pocket. “Perfect,” you whispered, eyes bright as you looked back at him.

Once the flowers were placed down on the edge of the blanket you laid back down with Joel, your head resting on his chest now with one of your legs over both of his.

“I want to press these ones, make somethin’ pretty that I can look at all year ‘round. Remember our first real date.” Your mind was brought back to some framed pressings in Bill and Frank’s that you had admired years ago.

Joel pressed a kiss to your head. “You’re makin’ me mighty soft, baby. I never gave a shit about flowers before this spring.” 

You looked up at him, smiling. “Don’t be silly, you’ve always had a soft centre. You might look all tough but in here,” you tapped the centre of his chest, “In here, you’re a real romantic.”

Joel scoffed, pretending to protest as his fingers slipped against your ribs, drawing out your happy laughter.

–

As the sun peaked in the sky, you took shelter in the shade under some trees by the creek. After relocating your blanket base-camp, you unlaced your shoes and rolled up the ends of your jeans as Joel watched on. You grinned over your shoulder before going to sit by the edge and slowly dipping your feet into the water. 

“Fuck, that’s cold,” you laughed, seeing Joel shake his head fondly. “Feels good though. Come sit with me.” 

Joel skipped dipping his feet in, but sat with you as you rested your head on his shoulder while you traded stories from your old lives and reminisced on your time together.

“When it gets hot in the summer, I want to come back here to swim. Look how fresh and clear it is.” You smiled as you dragged your feet through the cool water. “Could teach Ellie to swim, if she wanted to… Either way, this is our spot now. Thank you for finding it, and for taking me out.” 

Joel smiled and accepted the sweet kiss you pressed to his cheek. “M’already plannin’ our next one. If you’ll go on a second date with me, that is.” His eyes twinkled with signature Miller Mischief; it gave you butterflies, almost like this was a first date and you weren’t practically married, raising a teenager at home. 

“Play your cards right and I might just take you home with me and have my wicked way with you.” You smiled up at him with your own cheeky look.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, darlin’.”

Breaking out into a giggle you leaned further into him, pressing your blushing face into Joel’s neck. His arm wrapped around your shoulders. “Might be time to head back soon,” he said against your hair,

“I don’t want to.”

“I know, but we kinda have to.”

“No I mean…I know we do but I just want to press pause,” you said softly, leaning back to look up into his eyes, “Today has been so special Joel.. Sorry, it’s silly.”

“Nothin’ you say is ever silly. Go on.”

“I don’t want it to end. It feels like a real first date, one of those ones you read about in books or see in the movies y’know? The type where you spend all night talking, getting to know the other person…that’s how this felt to me.” You paused, looking down at your hands in your lap, “It’s stupid but I felt normal, like the world is okay and I’m just on a date with you, and tomorrow I’ll tell all my girlfriends how dreamy you are, and...” Your voice choked up, thick with emotion. It had crept up on you, missing your old life and wishing you could have had Joel slot right into it. “Sorry, I’m ruining it.” 

Joel’s heart ached for you and he took your face in his hands as you pulled your damp feet out of the water, curling up against him. “Hush. You’re gettin’ in your head. Breathe, baby.”

You smiled, laughing wetly as he grounded you - just like you had done for him so many times. Eyes closed, you breathe deeply for a few moments and covered Joel’s hands with yours. You were the first to break the silence, the sound of the birds and the creek bringing you back to the moment. 

“I’m just glad I’m with you, Joel. You have no idea how much I love you.” 

“Course I do, sweetheart. I love you too.” 

Those four little words made your heart soar. Joel was the one who demonstrated his love, rather than saying it out loud. You both knew you loved each other - hell, you had both killed for each other, done unspeakable things for one another, and you would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping each other safe  - but exchanging ‘i love you’s’ was always a special little moment. 

You smiled, giggling to yourself after a few moments. “Never said ‘I love you’ on a first date before, but it feels right.” 

Joel grinned, reaching back to grab the edge of the blanket to dry off your cold feet. “Me neither. Definitely feels right, baby.” 

You shared a few kisses before he helped you back into your shoes and you both packed up for the journey home, making sure the flowers he had picked for you were wrapped with a damp napkin around the stems, and stored carefully in your picnic basket.

-

The ride home went much too quickly for your liking, even though Joel took a slightly longer route so that you could see the sun begin to set, dragging dusk over the mountains and the town. It had been the best day, and you and Joel both looked sun-kissed and happy as you made your way back through town. 

The stables were your first stop after getting back, making sure your horse was untacked and well fed after her own adventure. You brushed her down and gave her some love before gathering her reins and bridle, ready to bring back to the tack room. 

“Hey, listen,” Joel murmured, his fingers catching around your wrist, causing you to turn back around, both of you still standing beside the horse, “What you said earlier, about feelin’ normal for a moment and forgetting the crap that’s happened…I felt it too.”

All day his chest had felt full, fit to burst, and he had kept himself measured in the hopes that it wouldn’t turn to panic.

You reached up your hand to cup Joel’s cheek, stroking under his eye, “Thank you,” you whispered and went up onto your tiptoes to lay a slow kiss to his lips.

The moment was broken when you heard a loud sigh from the stable door, “Finally. There you guys are, Maria was about to send out a search party.”

“No she wasn’t.” Joel grumbled and rolled his eyes, pecking your lips quickly once more. “She was on the wall when we came back through.”

“Whatever.” Ellie came over and took the reins from your hand to bring them over to the right peg. She had her own system in the stables. “Did you guys bring back anything good?”

A grin developed on your face, your own brand of mischief. You bent down and fished out the bunch of flowers that Joel had picked for you. You held them out to Ellie, shaking with silent laughter when she let out a loud groan.

“More flowers?! Jesus Joel.”

He shrugged, smiling as he caught you fixing the petals carefully, almost lovingly. “The lady likes flowers. What’s a guy to do.” Ellie spotted the forgotten little flower tucked in his shirt, muttering about how he had it bad for you. 

She rolled her eyes before turning to hang up the bridle and the reins, “What did you guys have in mind for dinner because I am starving.” And just like that, you were back to normality. You wouldn’t change it for anything. 

You shared a knowing smile with Joel, hooking your arm through his as you tugged him towards the door, “Well how about we stop at the Bison for dinner?" You suggested, looking between Joel and Ellie who were both happy to agree, "Only a quick visit mind you," you look at Ellie with a teasing smirk, "I need to get my new flowers into some fresh water soon."

#Between the Seasons #Seasons of Us #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x imagine #the last of us fanfic #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller (tlou hbo) #joel miller hbo #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou hbo

[bucket-wiki]

Dawn's Crown

Dimension number: 1301

Dimension name: Dawn's Crown

Brief Description

Dawn's Crown is a secret dimension birthed from the remains of the Rift Dimension. It is now Bucket's home dimension. It was slowly formed over time through the crystals and their light and is now the place where crystals reside and grow. The stars that are seen glowing high up in the sky are actually Crystal Rifts.

Biomes/Areas

Starlight Clearing: A peaceful field with white sand and puddles of water.

Enigmatic Forest: A dark forest filled with Soul Drainers and Rabbit Holes.

Starlight Oasis: A calm lake hidden away in the depths of the forest. They are often populated by Solfrogs and Soothlittes.

Freezing Forest: A forest similar to the Enigmatic Forests but it snows and is much darker.

Dreamer’s Peaks: A mountainous area piercing the heavens.

Reflective Shoreline: An undisturbed sea reflecting the sky above.

Excess' Remains: [Temporarily redacted]

Shadeling Village: A village full of Shadelings, hidden away in a dark area of the Freezing Forest.

Coalgam: Home of The Languished

Lucidium: Home of The Dry

Languished Ruins: The broken remains of a once thriving city in the depths of the Coalgam.

Dried City: A mostly intact ancient city floating above the Lucidium.

[Redacted]

Residents

Azradon, Bello, Bucket, Phthalo, Excess, The Dry, The Languished, Visitors

Phenomena

Beams of light

Rabbit Holes

Soul Drainers

Soulipilars

Shadestone roots

Totemlights

Crystal Trees

Crystal Buds

Crystal Mines

History

Dawn's Crown was born from the ruins of the destabilised Rift Dimension - a dimension that only served as a back-alley way of interdimensional travel. The new, more stable dimension was born from a combination of powerful crystals and Light. The crystals that can be found in Dawn's Crown are the remnants of those same powerful crystals. Bucket, who already had knowledge of the original Rift Dimension, was also aware of Dawn's Crown's existence and would visit it from time to time, even planting a crystal tree that led to the Hubhouse's basement.

During the events of the Tainted Valley Incident, the Chibi Mabis and Pix - who were still staying in the Hubhouse - went on various expeditions and explorations to Dawn's Crown using this crystal tree.

Following the events of the Tainted Valley Incident, Bucket moved to live in Dawn's Crown permanently.

Once Sand came back from Hell, he went to Dawn's Crown to visit Bucket, first expressing his anger that Bucket would forget about him and leave him in Hell for so long. After the anger subsided, Sand and Bucket attempted to contact Astrit through the void hivemind. But this was to no avail. Wanting to find Astrit and continue to become stronger, Sand found himself being taught how to survive by Azradon. After being taught the ropes, Sand continued to wander through Dawn's Crown with his new companions.

After an expedition to Excess' Remains, Azradon, Sand, Bello and Phthalo ended up running into Bucket, who destroyed Excess. Bucket sent Sand back to The Valley, leaving Azradon, Bello and Phthalo alone to explore Dawn's Crown.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the dimension, some wanderers from Furry Earth had stumbled into the dimension. Their journey is currently ongoing...

Credit to kekles for a big part of the history section.

#Dimensions #Dawn's Crown

[hazard-and-friends]

hello everyone pls say hi to [kennel name] Bucket Full of Starlight, “K’seil”

Registered name should be obvious from the photos. Callname is Hebrew for Orion, which is her dad.

10 weeks old, super confident, thoughtful, FULL of emotions. Flying her home right now!

#bucket full of starlight #australian shepherd #aussie #right now she’s fucking furious to be in her carrier so you know. #rapidly spending the trust account i built this afternoon

[xieyaohuan]

All God's children took their toll, Chapter 2: Aquarium

Summary

Hughie's gone missing. Starlight knows who's got him. She will get her boyfriend back. No matter what it takes. Aka Starlight and The Boys kidnap Homelander in a desperate attempt to find Hughie

Pairings

Homelander/Everyone, basically (see AO3 for more detailed tagging)

Notes

The world needs more Homelander whump

Chapter 1 written for Whumptober prompt Day 1:

No. 1 A LITTLE OUT OF THE ORDINARY Adverse Effects | Unconventional Restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”

Warnings for Chapter 2: cages? kidnapping? imprisonment? cruel and callous treatment of a terrified, traumatized supe?

Read on AO3

“You sure he can’t just… I don’t know… snap out of it, man?”

MM is looking at Homelander who is passed out in the Aquarium, as Butcher likes to call it. 

It’s the center piece of what will be their new home for however long this takes: an 8 by 10 foot cell made of reinforced two way glass, mirror-walls on the inside but see-through from the outside, sound-proof, with a double door interlock system so that at least one door is always securely locked. The decor inside the cell is nothing to call home about, just a cold steel chair and table they’ve modified for their purposes in the middle of the cell and a bucket in the corner.

Vought’s prized asset is slumped against the mirror side of the wall, ankles in steel cuffs and arms twisted behind his back. His body is vibrating along with the glass because they’ve turned on the Aquarium’s supe holding function as a precaution. The humming and magnetic pulsating is unpleasant, to put it mildly, but they’ll just have to put up with the unfortunate sound for the next few days or weeks. Best get used to it now. 

“Doubt he can.” Butcher has to raise his voice to speak over the noise. “Mindstorm’s bloody little gift is pretty permanent based on all I’ve read.”   If he doesn’t sound very convincing, it’s because he’s not very convinced. This is Homelander they’re talking about; the cunt’s full of unpleasant surprises; anything is possible. Maybe he’s already wrestling with Mindstorm for control in his head and is about to break through the supe-proof cell to kill them all. Bucher wouldn’t be too surprised. 

At least they’ve finally come up with a plan how to wake the cunt up semi safely. Yesterday’s many unpleasant discoveries included the fact that Mindstorm’s powers don’t work through the mirror glass, so he can’t easily release Homelander from his nightmares - they’re going to have to take this cunt out of his cell to do that. 

All of this trouble just to save that useless kid Hughie, Butcher thinks. Fucking great, he’s really growing soft.

“Colonel says this is as safe as it gets,” he adds when he sees MM’s skeptical face. He can’t have the man freak out, he needs smooth, calm and collected MM for what they’re about to attempt here. But he also can’t get himself to lie and pretend this is some fucking walk in the park. 

The strategy seems to work because MM sighs but says nothing further.

Homelander is looking peaceful as a baby in his sleep, his mouth twisted into a half-smile. It’s almost cruel, Butcher thinks; this cunt has been trapped in his darkest nightmares for almost a full day now, but you wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him. Part of him wants to leave things as they are, quietly dump this supe in a coffin and bury him in this state. Eventually, he tells himself, Homelander would probably simply die of dehydration or lack of oxygen in his unpeaceful sleep like a regular human being, even if it might take a little longer. It would be cruel, sure, but no more and no less than this cunt deserves.

Out of habit, Butcher pulls out his mobile and stares at it blankly for almost a minute before he realizes it still has zero bars. There’s no reception down here, and Butcher suspects it’s not just because they’re underground. This place is hermitically sealed; nothing goes in or out.

If Butcher had a choice, he would have picked a different place, not this basement in Queens underneath the bustling roads of Chinatown. Mallory claims it’s a CIA safe house, but Butcher knows a blacksite when he sees one. The place is small, just the observation room with the Aquarium in the center, the control room, a cubbyhole with four bunk beds, and a tiny kitchen and a bathroom that barely deserve the name. They’re much too close to Homelander’s last known location, too. None of this is ideal.

Still, all things considered, they’ve done a pretty decent job with their makeshift supe prison at such short notice.

The Colonel pulled some strings, and say of her what you will, she really came through this time. Butcher suspects her former employer is taking more than a fleeting interest in what they’re doing here, and he’s not loving the idea, but beggars can’t be choosers.

The Aquarium is apparently a replica of something that’s been sitting on the 42nd floor of Vought Tower all those years, powerful enough to kill any non-supe that steps inside. It was built with Homelander in mind according to the Colonel, though accounts on whether it was ever tested on the cunt in the flesh are inconsistent at best. The Agency has probably had its own copy ready for ages, and now, they finally have a chance to test it out, with Butcher and the Boys conveniently shouldering all the risk should anything go wrong. 

Yeah, who’s he kidding. Their plan is fucking bonkers. 

Butcher has no clue how this supe-depowering cell even works. Something like an MRI, Frenchie claims: magnetic radio waves or some such thing that separate the V in the blood from the human cells that the blue poison needs to attach itself to to have any effect. All Butcher cares about is that it works. He’s tested it himself, over and over again. And sure enough, no matter how much Temp V he shoots up, the waves this room is blasting through him will deactivate it reliably. Works on the real deal, too; Starlight, Kimiko, even Maeve - none of them can do shite with their powers in that cell.

Butcher leaves MM to his brooding thoughts and heads towards the small kitchen, passing Starlight who’s in the control room shouting at Mindstorm. 

That supe is always agitated these days. If he’s not yelling about paying for therapy, he’s yapping on about how he needs money to leave the country, and so on, but he’s broke and also unwilling to set up a Gofundme page like Butcher helpfully suggested. No. The mindfucking cunt wants cash. Butcher would gladly give it to him and be done with all the drama if his demands weren’t so grossly unreasonable and most definitely outside of their budget.

Starlight is in no state to be having this conversation, and Mindstorm should be nowhere near the control room, but Butcher can’t be fucked to intervene; he’s got his limits, too.

Mindstorm is the most unnerving supe he has ever met, save perhaps for Homelander. Even with his hands tied and that thick blindfold over his eyes, he still doesn’t like having that mindfucker around. He should have locked him in the Aquarium with Homelander. What is he even doing keeping the two most dangerous supes with them in the same fucking basement?

But they do need Mindstorm to wake up Homelander, that’s what he’s doing. 

Butcher pours some water from the metallic hot water dispenser over the tea bag in his cup and adds a squeeze of lemon. 

Part of him would probably feel better if Mallory were with them, or even the person who is most certainly overseeing their little project at the Agency. Not that he wants them involved or that they’d be of any help if something were to go wrong, but Butcher could really use a vote of confidence in this little operation, and their conspicuous absence is just the opposite. 

Butcher sits down on the only chair in the kitchen and takes a sip of tea. He’s freshly cranked up on Temp V; he’s supposed to feel good, energized, ready. But his current level of dizziness and nausea make it seem more like a day after Temp V, and he swears he can already feel the black goo building up behind his eardrums. 

He sets his cup down and pushes himself up. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable any longer. “Alright,” he calls, “Moment of truth. Time to wake up sleeping beauty.”

*  *  *

To an outside observer, the scene would probably look bizarre bordering on comical in a very involuntary way.

Starlight and Kimiko have dragged a dishevelled Homelander out of his cell, each of them grabbing one of his arms to prop him up right in front of the Aquarium’s open doors, but the cunt’s knees keep buckling, and Starlight and Kimiko are standing so close to the cell that the radio-magnetic pulses or whatever the fuck they are seem to be affecting them. At least they’re struggling with keeping Homelander up straight.

Butcher is standing a few feet away, every muscle in his body tense, ready to use his laser vision to propel the cunt back into the cell the moment he starts stirring. He’s been practicing his precision laser blasts and is reasonably pleased with the result. 

It took Frenchie half a day to figure out how to override the bloody interlock system to keep both doors open at the same time. He’s now sitting in the semi-security of the control room together with MM to push the button to lock both doors as soon as Homelander has been shoved back into his little prison by Butcher. 

It’s a bloody risk they’re taking, and the fact that with all the high-tech resources they seem to have in this place it still comes down to something like this is ridiculous, but they’ve gone over the plan a million times. They’re as ready as they’re ever going to be. 

Well, all of them except one.

“Oi! Mindstorm!” Butcher shouts without taking his eyes off Homelander. “Wake the bloody cunt up already, we haven’t all day!”

Mindstorm is pacing again, jerking his head every few seconds as if that could somehow eject an intrusive thought or voice from his brain. They’ve taken his blindfold off because the supe insisted he has to be able to see the person he’s trapped to be able to release them, but he’s even more on edge now with all the new stimuli. Butcher suspects that the buzzing and humming from the Aquarium is not making things any better. 

“Can’t we put him back in the cage?” Mindstorm asks without looking at Butcher. “I’d really feel safer if he were back in that cage.”

This can’t be happening, Butcher thinks. “You fuckin’ dense or what, you already tried waking him up through the glass, didn’t work, remember? That’s what we all been racking our brains about for the past 24 hours tryin’ to figure out a bloody alternative, case ya didn’t notice.” 

“I could go in with him,” Mindstorm offers, his eyes firmly locked on the floor. “Stay close to the door, run when he wakes.”

Butcher takes a deep breath. “Supe’s have no powers in that room, that’s the whole fucking point of it. Last I checked you was still a supe. Only way to wake this cunt up is out here. So either you do it now, or I’ll make sure Soldier Boy pays you a fuckin’ visit real soon.”

Mindstorm visibly recoils at the mentioning of the name, but the threat works as reliably as it has for the past few days and whatever little resistance was building up inside of him crumbles. He looks up at Homelander. 

At first, nothing happens, and Butcher is about to throw his arms up in frustration and storm out of the room, but suddenly, Homelander’s legs start twitching and then his face before, finally, his eyes snap wide open. 

He looks both terrified and terrifying, eyes the size of saucers as he’s trying to make sense of his surroundings.

For a moment, Butcher is paralyzed. Then the cunt’s eyes light up, and he knows it’s now or never. He focuses his vision on Homelander’s chest and sends him flying back into the cell with a single, powerful blast. It’s strong enough that the supe crashes right into the mirror wall, which shakes from the impact but doesn’t shatter. 

Butcher’s knees are trembling as the doors close. That was a bloody close shave.

He sits down on the floor and lights a cigarette. That’s all he wants to do now: sit, smoke, and watch Homelander get accustomed with his new situation.

The cunt isn’t handling it very well. He’s throwing his body against the mirror glass, yelling and crying, but no sound goes in or out of the Aquarium except through the intercom, which is turned off, so Butcher can only take a guess what he’s saying based on a lip reading class he took decades ago.

Starlight sits down next to him. “We need to make a plan,” she says. “We have to go in, Butcher. Now.” 

Butcher shakes his head, only mildly offended at the insinuation that he doesn't have a plan. “Trust me, just wait a bit, I done this many times.” That’s half true at best. He’s overseen an interrogation or two back in the day and sat in on many others, but they’re ugly business even for someone like him who’s seen plenty of ugly in his life, so he’s not gone actively seeking out any more of them. This one here might be Homelander, who deserves all the pain and suffering in the world, but part of Butcher is dreading his active role in distributing karma.

“Oui, it’s best if you let them, eu, stew for a bit, hein,” Frenchie chimes in from the control room through the intercom system. He sounds positively giddy now that their plan seems to be working.

Homelander stops abruptly, and Butcher sighs. “Frenchie, you pressed the wrong fucking button,” he shouts. “The cunt in there can hear you for fuck’s sake.”

He gets up and walks towards the control room to figure out how this bloody thing works. 

Starlight is following him, trying to argue with him, blathering on about how they don’t have time, but Butcher is having none of that. They’ve come this far, they’re going to do this properly now. 

“Not today,” he says. “We’ll go in first thing tomorrow. Get some sleep, love.”

He’ll have to have someone keep an eye on her to make she doesn’t do anything stupid.

*  *  *

“So how long can a supe stay in that room?” MM asks. 

They’re sharing the first shift tonight, and MM’s opted for tea, just like Butcher. They’re sitting in the observation room, sipping a cuppa, watching Homelander, who has collapsed on the floor in frustration and is writhing and twisting in another futile attempt to break out of or at least loosen his bondage.

“How long can he stay in there… without, you know…” MM’s voice trails off, confirming what Butcher already feared: the man’s fucking medic instincts are kicking in, and he's starting to think about the professional ethics of this all. 

They’ll be terribly misplaced in this setting, but that’s something Butcher will just have to deal with later when MM realizes what exactly he’s signed on for.

“Didn’t test that,” he says. “Lack of supes of Homelander’s stature to experiment with and such. Couple of days at least, longer, probably, trust me, mate, that cunt’s fucking hard to kill.” 

As annoyed as he is by MM’s sudden case of vagina, the question is an interesting one. It’s another thing he doesn’t know. The Agency has no notes on the subject, and if Vought does, they’re hiding them well. Butcher’s never been in there himself for more than five minutes, but if the thing is powerful enough to block the powers of someone like Homelander instantly, it can’t be terribly healthy in the long term, even for someone like him.

But that’s the least of his concerns right now. They’ll have plenty of time to get the information they need from this cunt. And if the room helps kill him afterwards, it’s going to solve a big headache for Butcher. He lights another cigarette and inhales deeply. He's done his job for today, and Future Billy will just have to figure out the rest.

All he knows is that when his shift is done, he’ll get the first good night of sleep in over a week.

#homelander whump #whumptober 2022 #homelander #billy butcher #the boys #posting my whumptober fic in november yay #not tagging according to whumptober rules because i'm late and lazy sorry #the world needs more homelander whump #my fic #mine

[velnica]

Singing Along BTS post:

The Starlight market that was featured in chapter 4 of Singing Along is actually a real Christmas market in Germany! They have a pirate ship and crew selling grog, the lake full of lanterns and the cosy shops. It's in my bucket list for sure!

More photos:

Link to chapter:

#fic: singing along to the start of forever #Youtube

[books-of-the-great-leviathan]

Chapter 37- Isabella

***

"Hey. Not fair. You were hiding the piece-"

"I was not."

"Yes, you were. I saw you shove it down your pants."

"No, I didn't."

"Enough, Elias. Give it here."

"After it's been down my pants?"

Isabella hunched at the gunwale, listening to Alois and Elias bicker over catsbones. She wasn't in a mood to join them. She faced the sea, scanning the waves from atop an upturned bucket. The night was a clouded one, moons obscured. Good- their vessel, a single-masted fishing boat, became nearly invisible on the dark waves. All the same, the waters of Bellana's Arm ever set her on edge. These were battlefields, grave-waters, full of the bones of dead soldiers who'd never be consecrated, never be burned, never return home.

Stars shone through the clouds, giving the expanse of Bellana's Arm enough light to navigate by. They had long since left Lapide's sea border and sailed beyond, into the no-man's-land of the Arm's passage, dotted with islets and sea-stacks inhabited by none but smugglers and seabirds.

Their ship was a battered little sloop, its triangular sail clay-red and daubed with Estaran luck symbols. Ren had taken the wheel, and around him, the deck seemed aglow with captured starlight- baskets of phosphorescent night-fish, goggle-eyed with teeth like broken glass, leaking glowing blood over the decks. Ren wore shirtsleeves and breeches, bone fishhooks dangling from a cord around his neck. Isabella was dressed in drab, too, rough linen and sailcloth, an old wool blanket pulled round her shoulders like a cloak. They looked like Estaran fishermen out hooking night-fish from the reefs, simple folk making their living before the next battle began.

Alois and Elias had dug some battered catsbones board from the bowels of the ship. Alois had lost a straight run of four games, and a stack of fish bones on Elias's side of the board grew steadily higher.

"Trust me, you don't want it now," Elias said.

Alois made a frustrated noise. "Just give it here!"

"Quiet," Isabella snapped.

Alois shut up. Elias nibbled his lip, then replaced the piece on the board, a little grubbier than before. Silence fell, broken only by the creak of the sail, the slap and knock of waves against the hull, the faint hiss of their keel parting the inky waters. A single gull floated over the swells some yards off, but otherwise there was no sound of birds, no cries, no calls.

Isabella hated silence on the battlefield. A good day was full of sea shanties and the snap of tossed ropes, orders called and drills performed, amiable chatter to distract one's self and everyone from the reality that at any moment, the war might come to call. Even a bad day- cannons, gunshot, screams and commands and the choking haze of alchemic smoke- was full of something. Silence meant waiting, meant nothing, meant anything.

Isabella was still not ready for anything.

I'm not ready for a world without you, she'd told her mother that evening in the gardens. Cedars, and heartlain, and her sister's laughter below. Peace, so close it almost felt certain. What a dream that had been, and how spectacularly shattered.

She supposed her tides had changed. She'd been well enough trained to be queen, to live without her mother's guidance. But what about a world where she no longer believed in her mother? Was she ready for that?

Is this the Lapide you wanted? A fortress with a grave-vault full of shadows. A man chained to a legion of ghosts, who'd drown the world for vengeance. A friendship poisoned by betrayal. Daval Belmont had sacrificed his own son for Estara, and Isabella had hated him for it. But Sofia Valere had murdered her sister for Lapide, and all Isabella felt was cold. The hate waited like a cresting wave frozen mid-arc, never to fall. She couldn't hate her mother, no matter how hard she tried, no matter the terrible things she had done.

King Daval had inherited a broken nation, and had himself broken what little family he had left.

Is this to be my inheritance?

Isabella shivered, at once cold. She rose, pulling her blanket around her shoulders, and crossed to the bow. Ren leaned against the wheel, tapping at the sun-bleached wood, his gaze set on the swells. He glanced at Isabella as she settled on an upturned bucket by his side.

"Anything?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Calm seas and clear skies, Highness. See those?"

He pointed to a smear on the horizon: a dark crag of rock rising from the waves. Another fainter crag beyond was a mere shadow in the mist. "Kern and Treg. Old pirate nests. Estaran sailors think these waters are unlucky. Full of ghosts from the fine soldiers of the Estaran navy the pirates hanged from the cliffs for their comrades to see. Now, they fear the war dead sunk to the deeps, seeking souls to harangue. This is one of the old smuggling routes folk I was once acquainted with would run back in the day. "

"And you were only ever acquainted with smugglers, I'm sure."

Ren smiled. "Estaran patrols are scarce through here. A superstitious bunch, and tonight it's in our favor. I'd blow them a kiss if I felt more kindly toward them."

"Steady, Ren."

"Don't worry, Majesty. I'm not about to start kissing Estarans." His tone was easy, but he reached inside his uniform and brought out the pack of old cards he carried around like a sailor's charm. Isabella knew he'd been some kind of circus brat in his childhood, telling phony fortunes for marks, picking pockets when the coins didn't add up. Isabella didn't believe the cards actually told fortunes, but everyone needed their talismans, even if they pretended otherwise.

Ren fanned the cards and flipped one. A vast fish swallowed the world, swimming on a field of stars.

"Interesting," he said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why don't you pick one?"

Isabella tapped a card. Ren turned it over. His expression darkened.

"Show me."

He turned the card. A young woman stood, arms outthrust, her golden hair streaming around her. Stars rained around her, like they were falling, extinguishing themselves on the surface of the ocean.

"It doesn't look so bad," Isabella said.

"She can mean a whole host of things. Resurrection. Destruction. Both. All. It's a card of tumult, mark me."

Isabella shook her head, settling her eyes on the faraway islets. She clenched the fist of her maimed arm, opening and closing it, keeping it limber. "I don't like this, Ren. This whole sea feels full of ghosts."

It felt like night her father died. It felt like the night Luca had come home, covered in blood, eyes hollow. Nothing had been wrong with him bodily, but Isabella had worried the Estarans had done something to him inside, where it counted.

She'd called him a coward for it.

She'd mocked him for it.

Triune, she hoped he was alive.

"Spooking on me, Isabella?" Ren asked.

She gave him a tight smile. "After what I've seen, you can hardly blame me."

Ren flicked through his cards again, staring not at them, but into the mist. Isabella followed his gaze, but saw nothing. Her arm throbbed, a cold, splintering ache. She grit her teeth.

"Sparrow?" she said.

"Look. There."

Light flickered on the horizon. Isabella started up, but Ren gestured for her to stay where she was.

"Is that a warship?" Isabella whispered.

"Yes. Far off."

"Will they see us?"

He shook his head. "Not through the mist." He glanced at her. "You should get some rest, Highness."

Isabella knew she wouldn't, but she nodded anyway, and gripped Ren's shoulder for a moment before returning to her place by the mast. The light from the distant warship faded, and the horizon became dark once again.

"I saw you that time," Alois started up as she settled herself. "Seriously, stop, you're ruining the game."

"Maybe I don't want to play stupid catsbones anymore."

"You suggested we play it!"

"Only because you're no good at it and I thought you needed the practice."

"Stop being such a child, Elias-" Catsbones pieces clattered as Alois swiped for the piece in Elias's hand. Elias sprang back, upsetting the board, dangling the piece out of reach. "Give that here. I said, give that here."

"You get it yourself." Elias whirled and flung the piece overboard. It cut through the fog. A dull, metallic boom echoed across the water, and Isabella shot to her feet.

"Elias," she snarled, and the boy shut up. Ren straightened from the wheel, eyes narrowed, posture rigid.

Shapes loomed out of the fog, jutting from the water. Ships, Isabella realized. The hulls of downed warships, balanced on-end or capsized like vast dead sea-beasts, jagged holes eaten into their sides or blasted open, crumbling into rust. Exposed girders curved from the water, bare as ribs, and waves hissed and boomed through empty holds, echoes amplified so Isabella felt the rhythmic shudder of impact in her gut.

Some of the wrecks were skeletal, eaten away by wind and waves, crusted with colonies of barnacles exposed by the tide. Others were newer, paint still scabbing their hulls, like they'd just been sunk. A forest of broken masts held scraps of flags, though whether blue or red, Isabella couldn't tell. She made out the rippling, melted evidence of spellfire, warping the wrecks out of shape like wax models thrust against coals.

"Whose are they?" Alois asked.

Isabella shook her head. "Does it matter."

They drifted through the graveyard, silent, watching the wrecks pass by. There were no signs of skeletons nor corpses, and for that Isabella was grateful. She'd seen what the sea did to the dead, what the battlefield left behind. She had her memories. She didn't need more reminder of what she stood to lose.

"Where's the honey whiskey?" she asked. Alois handed her a flask, and she drank until her eyes watered, until she began to feel warm again. The chill from her arm had infected the rest of her, an icy pall deep in her bones.

"Are you all right?" Alois asked her as she handed the flask back.

"Fine," Isabella said curtly. "You?"

Fear flickered through his eyes, but he nodded. "Fine."

"Liar. You're going back to the man who condemned you to die."

"My father-"

"If you bloody say he was doing it for the good of Estara one more damn time, I'm going to tip you into the sea."

"I wasn't going to say that," Alois said. "I was going to say he's going to listen to me this time. I'm not the same scared boy I was when I came to Lapide. I know the truth now. He'll listen to me. Because if he doesn't, I'm never going to stop fighting him. Never."

His amber eyes shone vivid in the lamplight. "He's right in one respect. Estara could be great again. But there's no going back to the past, not the way he wants. Estara has to be good, not just great."

Isabella was quiet, watching him as he spoke. He was going back to the father that had engineered his death. He was going back to the man who had tried to kill him. Isabella couldn't fathom a father like that. Her own had been a massive man, slabs of muscle and shoulders so broad Isabella could sit on one like she might a tree branch. Claudio Valere had a heart as big as his stature. He'd loved Lapide, its people, its songs. He'd loved the gardens, the birds and the flowers and the ancient cedars creaking in the wind.

He always plucked a stalk of heartlain to tuck in his armor, and another to present, with a magician's flourish, to his queen. Her mother had acted coy, but Isabella knew her too well. She'd seen, in quiet times before the war, the way her mother's fingertips lingered on the back of her consort's hand, the honey flush across her face. The way she'd kissed his cheek, sweet as a young girl courting her first suitor.

And how he'd loved them, too, her and Luca and Cereza. He'd brought back such gifts for them- animals of clockwork and ooshka tusk and painted porcelain from Buyan. The pelts of mistfoxes from the moors of north Lapide, who could vanish and reappear with the fog. Strange sweets from across the sea, bursting with unfamiliar sugars and spices. More than that, he gave them his love. Counseling Isabella's frustrations, her fears. Telling Luca stories as he listened, open-mouthed, sweets forgotten. Braiding Cereza's hair with flowers.

Both of them gone, now.

Perhaps he was naive, a man who'd tried to save his country and died for it instead. But he'd been kind as much as anything else, and Isabella knew that if he and her mother had not loved her, had not let that love be known, she did not know what she might have become.

"Daval was right to attack," she muttered. "To demand reparations for the help we denied Estara."

"What?"

"Maybe-" She shook her head. "Maybe not- right. But Lapide isn't like Estara. It's easy for me to sit in my tower, just and true, and condemn his hatred. But Lapide has never suffered plague after plague. It's never known famines like Estara has. It's never known death like Estara has."

"No," Alois said softly. "It hasn't."

He fell silent again. Isabella held out the flask of honey whiskey. Alois took it and swigged, then made a face.

"I don't actually much like this stuff," he admitted.

A smile curved across Isabella's face. "I could find you some milk if you'd prefer."

"There's actually a fermented milk spirit from my mother's island, Belamere, that I hear can knock a man dead with a single swig."

"Your mother was from Belamere?" The island was the smallest of Estara's three. Unlike its sisters, its volcanic soil supported lush life, jungles dense with greenery and strange animals unlike any found across the rest of the archipelago. "I shouldn't think a Belameri woman would submit herself to the king in such a way."

"Her father rebelled against my grandfather and failed. The Three-Day War, they called it. As punishment, Etain Belmont demanded his wealth, and his daughter." Alois stared over the side of the boat. "But she held onto her freedom as best she could. She believed in the Leviathan, in witch-gods like your Triune. I- I don't mean to insult-"

"I'll forgive you. Triune might not."

He stared at her as if alarmed before he realized she was joking. "Oh. Well, that'd be a miracle, wouldn't it?"

"That is rather their field."

He laughed, picking at a scab on his wrist. "You'd have liked her, I think. She did what she wanted, even under my father's eye. She worshipped what she wanted, in secret. She loved what she loved, who she loved. She and Captain Azare were always..."

He trailed away, then shook his head.

"She was friends with the Royal Witchhunter?" Isabella said.

"He's not what you think," Alois said quickly. He shook his head. "Maybe...maybe he is. I don't know. I don't know much anymore."

The Witchhunter was something of a legend, the Bloodmonger's knife, the shadow to his burning sun. Isabella had never seen him, but she'd heard tales of his cold ferocity, the organized butchery of his legion of Witchhunters. She'd fantasized of meeting him on the battlefield, of killing him in single combat, of sending his head to Daval Belmont on a silver platter. She'd never heard of anyone speak of him as a man, with respect, even love, in their eyes.

"Your mother died when you were young," Isabella said. "Didn't she?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry."

He looked up at her. Daval didn't have those amber eyes. Were those his mother's too, a piece of her that had gone on living in her son? They weren't a conqueror's eyes. For all his revolutionary talk, he was no Bloodmonger. Alois was a dreamer. A builder. Respect, reverence, and above all: kindness. A good man, maybe, which was a dangerous thing to be, and be king.

"I'm sorry, too," Alois said. "For Acier. For the queen. For everything."

Isabella smiled at him. It was the first time since her mother's death a smile felt real. "Thank you," she told him, and he smiled at her, too.

He lifted his head, the breeze ruffling his curls.

"Smell that?" he said. "That heat in the air? I can always tell when I'm approaching Estara. I love catching that first scent of home."

Isabella faced the sea, the coming horizon, like him. Maybe Enzo was right. Maybe Estara and Lapide would never be more than a pair of rabid beasts tearing at each other, doomed in their making. But this, here, now, Estara's prince and Lapide's queen sitting knee to knee and speaking of peace: this felt like a beginning.

This could be the beginning.

Another jolt crackled up her arm. Isabella's teeth snapped together and ground; she grabbed her own wrist as her arm spasmed beneath the blanket.

Alois blinked. "Are you all right?"

"Stay here." She stood, trying not to stumble.

"Isabella?"

She hurried belowdecks, down the step and into the muggy darkness of the tiny hold. It smelled of rotting fish and moth-poison, slats of starlight filtering down from the deck above. Pain crackled through Isabella and she collapsed against the wall, barely biting back a scream. She ripped the blanket from her arm.

Silver light coursed through her arm, just beneath the surface of its crystallized skin.

Isabella's breathing was overloud in the confines. She stared. Her hand trembled; She clenched it, and the light brightened: the same light Enzo had commanded, the same light that her mother's ghost had spun from.

Impossible. How could Enzo's power have done this? How could his ghostlight be in her? The light illuminated her arm from the inside, and in its radiance, the crystal flared, prismatic as whaleglass.

Isabella lifted her shaking hand, watching the flash and glimmer of colors under her skin. Enzo hadn't just wounded her.

He'd changed her.

Isabella.

The whisper was faint, almost drowned by her ragged breathing. The air rippled; she tensed, at once rigid.

Isabella?

Presence swelled into being: the heat of another person, inches from her.

The world rippled. Isabella's vision heaved, and rushed, like wind in the dark, like a hand reaching for her, from the darkness, from inside, through all things, the matter that surrounded her, the air, the sea, her own blood roaring in her head-

All at once he was there. Fast as a lightning strike: a vision of him, of a metal cabin with rivet-seamed walls, of the deep bass thunder of an engine.

"Enzo," she gasped.

The rush left her. She collapsed against the hull, shaking, frigid, clutching her crystal arm. The ghostlight was gone. Enzo was gone, but she still felt him, still saw him, his face, his weary slump, his bruised eyes wide with shock. He'd seen her too.

He'd seen them.

Isabella scrambled to her feet. Her head ached and throbbed, but she managed to haul herself up the stairs and onto the deck.

"Ren," she gasped. "We have to find another route."

"What happened?"

He caught her as she crumpled again. He was stronger than he looked. Isabella gripped his shirt with her good hand, the other still clenched to her chest. "Acier. I- I don't know how, but- he saw me, through this, through- through his power-"

Ren's eyes narrowed. "How is that possible?"

"I think, when his ghost soldier wounded me, it-" She cut off. Acid burned in her throat. She tasted the bitter tang of magic on her tongue, like smoke off a battlefield. Her hand no longer quivered, but gleamed darkly in the starlight, black as obsidian.

Miracles, she thought, and a chill coursed through her.

"It scarred me," Isabella went on. "Changed me."

Ren took her wrist and turned her palm toward the sky. Its whaleglass sheen returned, colors flickering in and out of focus.

"There's so much we don't know," Ren muttered. "Ancient power. Whale-magic. The fire that lit the stars."

He met her eyes again. "You said you saw Acier?"

"Like I'm seeing you."

"And he saw you? Your surroundings?"

Isabella nodded.

"Then we don't have much time." He let her go and swung back to the wheel. The sails groaned and tightened as he spun it hard to starboard. Around them, the ship graveyard loomed from the mist,  a deadly garden of rust and beached hulls. "At your command, Highness, we should head for Lapide's southern point, take refuge in the barrier islands-"

"We have a mission, Irio. I don't intend to relinquish it that easily."

"And Acier won't relinquish you-"

"At my command, was it?" Isabella said. "My command is we continue on to Estara. If Acier comes, mark me, I'll finish what we started beneath Valeris. I'll finish it bloody."

She looked to Alois. "And you?"

"Me?"

"What do you say?"

He blinked at her. "I..." he began. He blinked again, then straightened, his hands clenched at his sides. "She's right," he told Ren. "We don't back down now. Daval wouldn't, and nor will I."

"Hey. Hey!"

Isabella faced Elias. He stared out through the graveyard, through the mist. "Do you hear that?" he whispered.

Silence fell. Wind whispered through the wrecks. Far in the distance, Isabella made out the crash of surf against Kern and Treg's shores, the boom of waves on empty hulls.

Not waves.

Ice gripped her heart. "Engines," she whispered.

They echoed through the night: the bass pulse of warship engines, audible over leagues of open water. In this mist she couldn't tell how far out; the warship could be miles off or right on top of them. The same one they'd seen on the horizon? Had it seen them after all?

"Douse the lamps," she commanded, and Ren obeyed, covering the baskets of glowing night-fish and tugging loose the lantern lines. The shutters fell; the lamplight died. The only light came from the stars, half-shrouded by ragged cloud, silver as Enzo's ghosts.

Ren tensed. "Get below," he said. "All of you. Now."

Isabella heaved up the compartment under the mast; hidden hinges squealed with rust, and dust billowed into the night air. Elias scrambled in, and Alois after him. He held out his hand to help Isabella down, and she pulled the hatch over them again, sealing it in place. Slats of light filtered into the cramped, muggy compartment. The reek of rotting fish was worse here than in the cabin, but from above the seams in the deck were invisible. Isabella could just make out Ren as he kicked baskets of night-fish and nets over the hatch.

Elias's breathing was jagged in Isabella's ears. The throb of engines grew stronger, closer, louder than her heartbeat.

She slipped her fingers to her stiletto, hidden under her sailcloth vest.

A spotlamp flared, its powerful beam shattering the fog and blazing across the fishing boat. Isabella squinted as light poured into the smugglers' compartment.

A command rang across the water, metallic and amplified. Isabella glimpsed Ren lift his hands from the wheel as he replied in coastal Estaran. She craned her head, trying to get a better look. The Estaran vessel loomed above, a massive armored warship, ironsided and twin-masted, the fellfox maws of cannons aimed down toward the little fishing boat.

The sound of the engines pulsed in the backs of her teeth; it hummed through the water, through her fingertips poised on her stiletto hilt.

"I'm just pulling night-fish!" Ren called. He knocked the lid off a basket and gestured to the catch inside. "They like nibbling drowned Lapidaeans on the seafloor 'round here."

"And there's none else on board?"

"None but me and the fish, sir."

Isabella-

Her breathing caught, rasping like a sob. Alois shifted toward her, his eyes wide in the spotlight glare. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"Be that as it may," called the Estaran commander, "King Daval's orders were clear. All ships stopped and searched."

Ren's hands tightened on the wheel. "Is His Majesty afraid of fishermen now?"

It doesn't have to be this way, Bell.

"I suggest you don't resist." The commander's amplified voice echoed across the water. Waves sloshed against the hull, kicked up by the Estaran ship's engines. "There's no honor in protecting the enemy."

"Maybe," Ren said. "No honor in betraying them, either."

He twisted the wheel. The sails snapped taut, wood groaning, wind flattening the canvas; shouts erupted from the Estaran ship, orders and commands, as the fishing boat banked hard to the side. The spotlamp beam swooped and dived, trying to find them again, light splintering off the waves and turning them to shards of blue-white glass. Shots cracked through the night. Ren ducked as bullets stitched holes across the deck.

Isabella flung open the hatch, scattering baskets, spilling night-fish over the deck. "No!" Alois protested, yanking at her arm, but she shook him off and pulled herself onboard, swinging from line to line, trimming the sails.

The ship surged forward, wind bringing tears to her eyes. A wreck reared from the mist: a dead warship, Lapidaean, the Valere hawk barely visible on its side. Isabella tensed, but the fishing boat's nose slid past it with a scarce hand's span of air.

Behind them, an alarm blared from the Estaran ship. Isabella glanced back. Lanterns floodlit its deck, dyeing the waves scarlet. Shadows flickered on sails, commands mingling with gunsmoke.

The wreck slid past, and mist closed over their path like curtains, the Estaran ship reduced to a diffuse glow through fog.

"Ren," Isabella said, looking back. "Can we outstrip them?"

He hung onto the wheel, knuckles white. "On open seas? No. Here? Might be able to lose them. Might...might be able to get to Kern before...before..."

His voice shook; his eyes shone with pain. Seawater slicked his side. No, not water: blood. The bullet wound glistened just below his ribs. As Isabella watched, a new gush of blood spattered the deck at his feet.

"Ren," Isabella said. "Triune-"

"It's...it's all right. I've had worse."

Another wreck loomed, a half-submerged bow like a cresting sea-ork, ramming spike standing ready to impale the sky. The Estaran engines throbbed behind them. Isabella's arm ached, spikes of cold in her blood, in the very core of her.

How had Enzo's magic changed her? Warped her?

She remembered Cereza's pale face, the black veins radiating from her heart. Miracles come with a price.

Cannons boomed; the sea geysered some hundred yards off, an eruption of spume and flame and rusted metal.

"Trying to smoke us out," Isabella muttered. "Bloody Estarans." She glanced at Alois and Elias, crouching in the open hatch. "Sorry."

Another cannon fired. Isabella glimpsed the Estaran ship as it cruised by, its running lights turning a nearby wreck to a harsh silhouette. They were using ordinary bolts in their artillery. Too close for spellfire; they wouldn't risk setting themselves ablaze, not in such tight quarters. That little mattered if they were hit.

"Thought you said this was a safe route," she said.

"Sorry, Highness." Ren's face was blanched with strain.

"This is my fault. This arm- this- I don't know-"

"Save it, Isabella." He shuddered, then slumped against the wheel with a gasp. Isabella caught him before he fell.

"Sparrow," she told him. "Is that any way to talk to your princess?"

He gave her a small smile. "Queen, I hope. One day." His eyes flicked upward, toward the dark shape of Kern through the mist. "Almost there. Keep her steady and we'll be-"

Isabella heard the high, keening shriek all too late. The world erupted with light; Isabella slammed, hard, against the wheel, blown forward by the explosion. Her face struck wood, and stars burst in her eyes; embers rained, particles of burning matter from the wreck the bolt had struck. The embers caught their sail and caught flame, scarlet and vivid orange blooming like flowers across the canvas.

She heard Alois call out to Elias, glimpsed lanterns flaring bright. Bloody light haloed the mist, ploughing the wreck aside and crushing it into the waves. The warship.

The warship, its ship-breaking bow cutting through the sea, coming for them.

"Alois!" Isabella cried. "Get down! Down!"

She seized the wheel and cranked it, hard, felt the small ship respond, felt the burning sails catch the cold sea wind.

They didn't move.

She looked up. Her heart twisted. The sails blazed, more hole than canvas. Pennants of flame illuminated the sky, drowning out the stars. They wouldn't move again.

The alarm blared; the ship thundered closer. No time. It would shear them in half. No time. Isabella stumbled back. There wasn't even enough time to reach for a handhold before the warship hit them.

The sound of breaking wood was like a monster wave, bearing down, drowning all else. The Estaran ship had swung round at the last instant, bow shearing across their hull and splintering from it a great, hungry gash. Isabella was flung to the deck, in a tangle of ropes and rigging, night-fish baskets dripping with glow.

Pain split through her. Her consciousness wavered.

-Isabella-

A flutter of silver. Fingertips, light on her face. Fire burned somewhere above her, sparks like stars. A heartbeat, huge and pounding.

Not a heartbeat. Engines. Voices.

Enzo-

-no, Estaran voices, accents liquid as music-

Force hit her in the gut. Her vision went white, went red. She staggered, balance shot. A kick sent her down again. Two men, not one. The first stood over her, grinning, while the second planted his boot in the small of her back. Alois cried out behind her. She heard the snap of metal against flesh, felt weight strike the deck.

"Kill this one, sir?"

Isabella looked up, through rolling clouds of gunsmoke. A soldier held Elias by the hair. He struggled like a hooked fish, eyes wide and terrified.

A man in the spellforged breastplate of a commander shook his head. "His Majesty wants the three of them alive."

The three of them? Isabella cast a glance around the ship. Renard Irio was gone: nothing remained of him but bloodsmears on the deck.

Triune's winds to you, Sparrow, she prayed. Whatever his game, she was sure he hadn't simply turned tail and swam. She had to have faith he had schemes of his own.

The commander strode over and looked down at her: a big man, close-cropped gray-streaked beard and hair lit garish in the firelight, dark eyes impassive.

"Saints alive," he said. "Isabella Valere herself. Look alive, men. We find ourselves in fine company tonight."

Isabella stared up at him. She felt blood on her teeth. She'd bitten her tongue. She spat onto the deck and said nothing.

"No words, then." The commander nodded at the soldier holding Elias, who cocked a gun and set it to the boy's head. "Would you rather I shot the lad?"

"I thought His Majesty wanted your prisoners alive."

"I doubt a rigging spider will matter to him," the commander said. Elias bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"Don't." Alois struggled to his feet. "Don't. Take me. Let them go unharmed. That's an order." He looked from man to man, locking eyes with each. "You wouldn't dare disobey your prince, would you?"

The commander stared, then gave a disbelieving laugh. "Alois Belmont, witches pluck out my eyes," he said. "What a homecoming this is."

"We don't come to fight," Isabella rasped. Blood ran down her chin, spattering the deck as she lifted her head. "We come to discuss peace."

"Peace," the commander scoffed. He signaled to one of his soldiers. "Enough from this Lapidaean witch. Put her out."

The last thing Isabella saw was the butt of a rifle swinging for her face. The last she felt was pain, hot as spellfire.

Her head snapped to the side, and then there was nothing at all.

#togl #tales of the great leviathan #fantasy fiction #original fiction #serial novel #chapter 37

[unorthodoxdeity]

Ciel laid in his bed unable to sleep. The grandfather clock in the corner of his bedroom ticked away without a care in the world. Just beyond the clock, the door to the balcony was just cracked enough to let the hot summer air flow into the room. The curtains swayed gently allowing starlight to flood the room.

The boy had thrown his heavy covers off of the bed yet the room was still unbearably hot. The next day's schedule was unbearably full and the earl knew very well that he would be in just as petulant of a mood tomorrow as he was now. As the clock continued producing its nauseating ticking sound Ciel wondered if tomorrow would even come.

The shadows in the corner twisted into silhouettes of Sebastian coming to swallow him whole. He very quickly regretted throwing his blankets to the floor but was too petrified to pick them back up again, instead opting to smother his face in a pillow. He remained that way for at least 30 minutes until weariness set in.

He wondered what the end of the contract would bring. He began thinking long and hard about non-existence would bring him. For all of his childhood, he had been comforted with promises of an afterlife; heaven, hell, something. The thought of nothing was an entirely new beast. Ever the rational thinker, he comforted himself by assuming it would be just like how it was before he was born. This did not soothe him as much as he'd hoped it would.

The stillness of the room left him with nothing to drown out his own mortality. Despite his searing hatred of humanity, he couldn't stop thinking about all the things he would lose. Good smells, chocolate cake, tea in the morning, the mundane flow he got into while doing paperwork, all of these little things now meant the world to him.

He thought it unfair that his life had to be cut shorter than all the others. That the elders in his life did nothing to protect him. How he was all on his own. Tears threatened to pour out of his eyes as he clinged on to dear life.

For a brief moment, Ciel wondered what the point of it all was. Everyone and everything was going to die anyway. Why had God abandoned him? What happens when the dead finally die? Isn't everything destined to turn to nothing when God gets bored? He contemplated just asking Sebastian to swallow him there and then.

He knew he couldn't. His fire burned too brightly, searing somewhere in the pit of his chest just right of his heart. That fire he had was the only reason he did anything, it was the only reason he feared death in the first place. At first he had thought it was spite, the desperate need for revenge fueled only by rage.

It was then he realized it wasn't just spite. It was some carnal urge to live, to do something. He hated having it. He wished he could just go peacefully into that goodnight. He was so tired of fighting but the fire in his chest just kept pushing him forward.

It was not just a determined push. It was a frenzy. It was his terror, his pride, everything forcing him to keep going. He felt like a crab in a bucket, willing to do anything and everything to get his way.

Birds were starting to chirp outside. The sun would be rising soon. He did not know what deplorable actions the burning in his chest would make him do today, but he knew he would keep going no matter what. And he knew he was fucking tired.

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #sebastian michaelis #ciel phamtonhive #fanfiction #snippet #slice of life #writing #death mention #ahahaha #these are getting a little too personal #this isnt even just black butler anymore it's just me projecting onto ciel #anyways #the horrifying ordeal of clinging on to something you cant hope to keep am i right? #these are so bad #getting the bad shit out so i can write good shit later #long post

[readwithmeeg]

7 Magical Fictitious Places I Wish I Could Visit

Have you ever had a world described to you so well that you wanted to dive into the pages and walk around right then and there. Me too, I think it’s something that every reader experiences at least one time in their lives. While it’s probably impossible to name all of them here is my list for the 7 fictional places id want to visit if they were real.

Gondor

Caraval

Hogwarts

Kings Landing

The Shire

Crescent City

Velaris

Gondor

Knowing me there had to be at least one Tolkien experience on this list. But Gondor is one of the first places I would want to visit if I got the chance to step into The Lord of the Rings. Not only is it a magnificent city carved in stone, but it seems like a place you could wander for hours and never get bored. There is just so much to see and experience that it has made it on to this list.

Caraval

This is a recent addition to my list, but Caraval seems like such a cool place to experience it had to be included. It’s a place full of mystery and magic and you never know if what you’re seeing is quite real or not adding even more to the experience. Caraval also changes regularly no experience is the same adding to the mystery and intrigue even more!

Hogwarts

I think anyone who has read or watched Harry Potter wants to visit Hogwarts and experience a sliver of what it’s like to go to that magical school wizard war or not. All the hidden rooms and crazy towers just make it seems like an amazing place and a must visit on my fantasy world tour. I’ve been to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter but I don’t think it’s quite the same. However, I think it’s as close as I’ll get to the real thing. 

Kings Landing

A bit of an unexpected on but Kings Landing from the Game of Thrones Series seemed like a cool place (pre-destruction). The crazy architecture and mystical gardens really drew me in especially after I saw it come to life in the show. I think it would be a cool vacation spot.

The Shire

I couldn’t pick just one Tolkien town… The shire is also high on my places to visit if I could. I’m a farm girl at heart so a nice trip to the countryside living in a little hole in the ground sounds great. It’s also a place that I think would have some pretty good food and drinks based on Bilbos birthday party and Mary and Pippin’s green dragon dance who wouldn’t want to visit. Did you know that you can visit the Hobbiton set in New Zealand? It’s on my bucket list check it out here and let me know would you want to visit?

Crescent City

This one is a little bit different it’s not a high fantasy medieval city. But Crescent City from Sarah. J. Maas’ series with the same name sounds like a cool place. It would be like living in New York but there’s also magic and monsters. The best of both worlds, right?! I think so… It would be even better id Bryce was my roommate so I could hang out with one of the coolest characters there is.

Velaris

Finally, the number one top place I would visit of I could. Velaris, the city of Starlight. Those 4 words hooked me the first time I read them, and it just kept getting better and better. Another Sarah. J. Maas world but I couldn’t help it she has built up this world so well and described it as such a magical and happy place how could I not want to visit.

I realize a lot of these places sound similar what can I say I have a type… dark and magical. If you couldn’t already tell I would recommend any of these stories in a heartbeat and if you want some other suggestions, be sure to check out my blog for more!

#velaris #gondor #the shire #kings landing #caraval #crescent city #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #book blog #book review #bookworm #books #reading #magical

[wonwoonlight]

Junhui – accidental confession + only one bed + “I have secrets you don’t know about.”

900~ words – a thousand starlights event

You should’ve listened to Mingyu when he nags you about the questionable place you choose to rent because it’s suspiciously cheap remembering the accessible spot it’s located at. Now you’re suffering the consequences as your A/C leaks for what seems to be the third time this week.

Honestly, you can stand the slight leaking in the sink and the constant noise the heater makes everytime you turn it on (though it’s a bit scary, if you’re being honest). You don’t even mind the way the window would slightly shake when the wind is particularly strong outside. You do pay a lot more cheaper than what your friends who live in the nearby area do after all.

But the A/C? Gosh, you sleep with A/C on even when it’s cold outside and it just has to be the one thing with the worst problem in this place. Plus, it’s perched very near your bed so the water would splash to your bed from time to time.

“I really don’t think you should sleep here tonight,” Junhui cringes when he sees the state your room is in. He’s just dropping by to give you a package from Hansol, but when he arrives, you’ve just been sweeping the floor in your bedroom because of the A/C leaks.

You even have a bucket to take the water in even though it wouldn’t be much help if you’re going to turn the A/C on the whole night. He can see some droplets splashing from the bucket to the floor around it.

“Unless you want to sleep without the A/C on.”

You groan at his comment, telling him it’s impossible because it’s summer now and sleeping without it during summer would be the worst thing you’d ever have to do in your life.

“You can go sleep in my place,” he offers, feeling bad about the situation you’re in. “Jihoon is back in his hometown so no one should mind you staying over.”

“You think he’d mind if he’s here?”

“Not the point. You can just sleep in his room and he wouldn’t know,” he shrugs. “Better than sleeping in your place in this heat.”

Is it surprising that Jihoon, that bastard, locks his door when he’s away? It’s not, really, and you glare at the amount of unfinished laundry piling on the sofa of their living room which could’ve served as a bed otherwise.

“I’m taking your bed,” you declare without even looking at him, strutting to his door. But Junhui quickly stands in your way, blocking you from his very unlocked door compared to Jihoon’s. “I’m not going back to my place.”

“Uhh,” he stutters. “Let me just clean up real quick.”

You raise your eyebrow at the unexpected sentence, a teasing grin blooming on your face. “Why? Have something to hide?”

“I have secrets you don’t know about,” the guy looks at you unimpressed, telling you he wouldn’t let you sleep on his bed if you’re not going to step aside.

“Secrets huh,” you challenge, grin getting bigger. “And it’s so scarce that I can’t know? What is it? Does it have to do with me?”

He stares at you as if you’ll suddenly listen to him, but you simply stare back at him with an unfaltering grin.

“You know I’m stronger than you?”

“Why are you being weird about it,” you huff, a little more upset than you are annoyed. “It’s not like you have pictures of me on your table or something.”

Junhui freezes at that, eyes and mouth suddenly wide open and you’ve never been more thankful in your life that Junhui sucks at hiding his feelings when he’s caught off guard.

“Jun…? Do you have pictures of me?” You say in confusion, quickly maneuvering over him to open the door while he’s still in daze. It’s too late once he realizes though, because you’re already inside and you’re staring at the pin board on top of his desk, full of pictures of you and him together on different occasions.

They’re not just the two of you though, you can see your other friends in the pictures; but you’re pretty sure about 80% of them have you in it. There’s even one where you’re just staring at the fish in the aquarium by yourself--the memory still vivid in your mind. You remember asking Junhui why he kept on playing with his phone, but he had just shrugged and told you he’s taking pictures.

How were you supposed to know he took pictures of you?

When you turn back to him, you can see the tip of his ears getting red as he avoids your gaze. You bite back a giddy smile at the situation; never in your life did you ever expect to see the Wen Junhui being flustered under your gaze.

You’d tease him more, but you’re afraid Junhui would just get defensive instead of actually talking about it so you take his hand and pull him with you to his bed.

He simply complies, unsure what to do either way and lets himself plop down beside you on the bed. You don’t let go of his hand even after that though, simply look up at him with an innocent smile as if you hadn’t just almost caused him to have a heart attack by barging into his room.

“I suppose I still get to sleep in the bed?”

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

Taglist: @winterciella

#junhui scenarios #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenario #seventeen x reader #svt fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #seventeen imagines #junhui fluff #jun scenario #jun scenarios #jun fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen au #a thousand starlights masterlist #svt scenarios #junhui fic